Haute Route, not to be.

Trient Hut

The Haute route is a popular ski mountaineering route from Chamonix France to Zermat Switzerland, with most of the route being in Switzerland. It travels through some of the most accessible high alpine environments in Europe, and for that matter the world. I can't think of many other places that have the sharp, beautiful glaciated peaks, that have lift access approaches and 4 course meals. Due to it's popularity, its also rather busy. When we arrived in Geneva Switzerland after some 20 hours of travel, we got in a small van filled to the brim with other ski and mountain enthousiasts and started the drive to Chamonix. Geneva itself is a nice town and has a good number of large limestone cliff bands, which the van driver wrote off as choss piles. A good start for realizing what the alps have, and the snobbery that it breads. (Snobbery in this case is NOT derogatory)

Day 1: Chamonix to Trient

 When we arrived in the town itself it was far from impressive. In fact it was a bit annoying. Modern stuctures mixed with classic french and swiss architechure is not well juxtaposed; rather, it more resembles a unbridaled capitalistic growth spurt. The good news is that our hostel that was out of town was fabulous. Truly the highlight of our in town stays. La Tapia run by Maria was clean, had no locks on the doors, and the best breakfast around, all for a great price.

 After warnings about aclimatizing and going guidless, we left the next morning up to the Argentiere glacier via a short tram ride. We bought 1 ride's on the Grand Montets tram which we where told would get us to the highest point, which was not the top of the resort. But a few hundred meters below the normal drop off point. On our second lift ride, we had a pretty funny hold up at the automatic ticket gates which our one ride tickets wouldn't open. So when everyone was watching we attempted to climb over them with our ski's on. It was much more difficult than it seemed, and with axes, skis, poles, a gate, and that fish net fencing, we where almost entangled forever. Thankfully the lifty didn't care at all. Stupid Americans. After finally gettin off the last lift we got back into our comfort zones with skins on and heals released.

Day 2: Trient-Champex

 The trip to the Angentiere glacier was a bit of an eye opener. No trees, and no good size landmarks make the glacier basin seem normal sized, but after close evaluation you realized its massive. Like as big as Little Cottonwood Canyon. The only way to tell was to look to the bottom at the little tiny ants crossing in lines... f They where people, some 4000ft below. Pretty cool. So we skied the not quite wonderful refrozen powder down to the bottom between ice fall and the rocks to the glacier. After some chat we decided which canyon was the Chardonnet glacier and headed for it. The morning was late but luckily the clouds protected us from excess heating, especially since we where on the 40 degree section. Hours later, after finally dealling with some excessive bread in the diet, we reached the top of the Col du Chardonnet--the techical crux of the route. Just a week earlier it had been a steep dicey rock decent followed by a large bergshrund crossing. Fortunately for us it was filled in nicely and reasonably skiable. We rapped(absel) the top section and hung the second rap but chose to do the body rap for the second as the consiquences receded and the slope angle lessened. 300 meters later we where in a new glacier for a beautiful lunch spot.

Chamonix: La Tapia Hostel

Chamonix: The bakery 1 block
from the hostel

 We then proceeded towards the Trient glacier via a long traverse through the Glacier de Saleina

to a inevitable boot pack. The guide book read something like 'no skins heal lifter travers.' Which if your a skinning enthusiast like us, you have no idea what that means. I have never seen or done a no skin's heal lifter traverse, but I can't wait to see it! Next was the col to the trient glacier which was labelled as 'you will inevitably boot' so as any good Cottonwood Ninnis would do, we skinned. It was rather humours and likely more difficult than booting, but we felt obliged to hold to our heritage. Crossing over the top we reached the Trient glacier and way off in the distance had a view of the Trient hut, or I think I would insert the word lodge, except made of stone. 

Look back to the Argentierre glacier

 One of the things we had said before going on this trip was that if we get lost, or something goes wrong, you can always just ski down to some random swiss village... We quickly learned that unlike the Wasatch, or most other places we had skied this was not the case. most glaciers ended in large scarey icefalls that would take at least a day to pass, and may not be passable. The good news was that in the good weather, it was reasonably easy route finding. 

 We reached the Trient hut at somewhere around 6:15 and carefully read all the signs on how to comply with the rules. First of all, skis go in the ski shed, outside. Second, Ice axes go in the ice axe rack in the breezeway along with boots and climbing gear. I pitty the man that walks into the hut with skis, boots and ice axes. I think they may be burned at the stake. (Again, not derogatory since only a stupid american would even think of such a thing) Once we had properly packed away our gear, we got to experience what all the rules protected. A warm, beautiful, dry hut, free from ice axe holes and soiled rugs. Dinner was at 7:00pm and we where sure to be on time. Turned out to be a 4 course meal with a white wine starter... If only all my meals where so wonderful. With the windows of the hut, we had a 180 degree view of the top of the trient glacier. I spent probably a good hour sitting and looking outside. Likely one of the best dining views in the world in my opinion. 

Col du Chardonnet

 The next morning we where 21 minutes late for breakfast, due to a misread breakfast time. We thought we where nine minutes early. The gardian nicely, but sturnly told us in broken English 'Breakfast is at 6 or 7, not 21.' Graciously he still aloud us to have a tasty bread, cheeze, butter and jam breakfast. On the way out, I of course left my ice axe in the ice axe rack where it will remain for eternity. 

 We skied the wind scared refrozen hardpack with sections of breakable death crust to the icefall where we entered the wind tunnel. SO windy in fact that you could side slip on the flat ground towards the abyss. After skiing the mogels down the icefall we traversed to yet another booter up the Col du Escandies then skied out to Champex, Switzerland via the Val de Arpette.  Yet another amazing and large basin that had suffered from massive wet slides. By massive its hard to represent because we don't see many that size in Utah. Think of the South face of Superior sliding over the road, and then and 5 or 6 more of those size slides all in the same drainage. Pretty cool, however very difficult to ski over basketball size frozen rollers. 

Glacier de Saleina

Col du Escandies

 After being anoyed with the guided american group for a while I got over my oversized head and enjoyed a nice slushy spring ski out to the town of Champex. This would unfortunately be the end of our skiing for the trip, but we didn't know it yet. The plan was to catch a ride to Borg-st.-Pierre for the night and do the 4300ft climb back up to the Valsorey hut on the other side the next morning. However when we awoke the next morning it was raining, and raining hard. We spent the whole next day planning and figuring out how to get back into the mountains and complete the traverse. After calling some of the huts and getting the response 'the weather is very bad' we tried to go around to a more easterly location to avoid some of the more difficult and commiting sections and access the Vignettes or Cabane des dix. This also was a failure as we couldn't find a place to stay and the weather was also 'very bad' at the huts on this side. We calculated our time availabe, how long the storm was to stay, and distance traveled and concluded that we would have to bail... so sad. 

Paris

  What I didn't tell you was that most of the others had already flushed out of the mountains and where on the way home. Such is the life of big goals in the mountains. Another day? I hope so. In review, the scenery was stunning, the food was fabulous, and the skinning/skiing/mountaineering was moderate. An excellent trip I would recommend to anyone with the skill set and the strength. I think the average is 5000ft a day. The only down sides are maybe the diffulty in getting the information on the route (thankfully I had a team of well dedicated friends that pretty much did ALL the research) and the high prices of everything from food to gas, to taxi rides. You can quickly drain the budget when things get off the plan... Oh and did I mention take the train out of Paris? I can't say I recommend air france, unless you get the refundable ticket.  Special thanks to my partners for providing pretty much all the hard prep work, digital maps, photos, money, entertainment, and generosity.  Oh and lots of good red wine.

Skiing the white zone

Making backcountry skiing location choices isn't just about keeping yourself safe, its also about skiing the best snow you can get in the most efficient manner(OK, maybe not always efficient), with the least amount of damage to your gear. You can tell the difference between the newbs and the pro's based on the quality of there experience. Every day is different, so you really can't lay out a list of rules. If I did, I'm sure I would be hunted down like the bleeding baby seal in shark water.

This season these decision have been even more important, and your success could lead you to a good powder day, or a rocky dirt bed. One trick I picked up was skiing the white zones.... on the topo. The white zones define 'open areas' like fields, Meadows, land fills, and above tree line. In the Wasatch we don't really have much above tree line, but its an excellent way to judge a number of things. One great example is most avalanche reports have a break between above and below the tree line. (well, except the Wasatch). In this case I use it to determine the existence of snow that may be ski-able. Here is a most excellent route with great lines, close to the road, and a groomer exit, but don't tell too many of your friends or be sure to ski it when I'm not around.

Start in the Brighton Parking lot and either take a one ride up Milly (sissy) or skin to the Milly booter then boot to the top. Ski something on the North aspect of the upper ridge of Millicent, catch the lake skin track back to the East wolverine booter, then ski wolverine (in this case I skied the glade in fear of super steep snow sluffs over rocks.) Then a quick traverse up to Tuscarora for the Tuscarora chute. Followed by a monster traverse around Catherine's lake to Sunrise peak. Other than the groomer skin and ski, the entire route is above 9000ft.

Adventure touring on the White Rim

I had a struggle between doing the powder keg this year or bailing for a trip to the desert. I only had one close friend left doing the keg. The kicker, however, was that the spouse was leaving town for the week... I like to think of it as a free kitchen pass. So at the expense of the keg, I decided to head to the desert.

Based on the options available we decide to do the White Rim Trail in Island in the Ski, Canyon Lands National Park. But not the normal way, because that would be too boring. So we packed up our touring bikes and headed South in hopes of getting a permit. We planned to ride counter clockwise, in about 2 and 1/2 days self supported. That totals about 117 miles of rocks and sand doable in a high clearance 4x4 or 2x4 with some skill... Oh and did I mention lots of sand?

Day 1: about 35 miles from the parking lot down into the White Rim to our campsite next to the Green river. While we where getting our permit, we where talking to a ranger who got dubber 'olive oil' for the visible stress in her simple permit issuing position. Olive oil had told us that the only river access we would have would be at Potato Bottom camp, and it would be a bush wack at that. Turns out she was a little off. It was one of the last major water stops, but far from the first. So on day one we carried about 2 and 1/2 gallons of water each--or about 20 lbs of water. (Just to compare my Tarmac road bike weighs about 17 lbs). Needless to say it was a heavy day. All without much need. We decended mostly for the first 17 miles or so until we reached the green then it was a mix of flats and moderate climbs to the camp site. Reasonable bouldering was the evening activity along with a fancy meal of potato soup, with avocado and green peppers.

Day 2: Definitely the full featured day of 47ish miles through rolling hills and short steep climbs and technical decents (at least for a fully loaded touring bike). At the mid point we met the crux of the route: The Hogsback. A steep loose climbing that was relentless. However with much determination we where able to ride the climb, and a lot of motivation from our friends from ska brewing. (http://www.skabrewing.com).

Speaking of Ska brewing company, YES we where self supported on this trip, but after deliberations with one of the founders of Ska, a statewide beer advocate for Colorado brewing, and other very professional brewers of Colorado, we decided it was still considered 'self supported' if you accept generous offerings of brew during the post ride. And thanks to this group of excellent citizens, we where always greeted at the end of the day with an ice cold beverage or fine distilled selection for the cellar of Ska or associated companies. These professionals also provide more than enough entertainment for any night with endless humor and a selection of desert games such as bocce ball, moon light rides, and kite flying.

I almost forgot the rest of day 2! After the completion of the Hogsback, it of course should have only been a few miles to the camp site right? Well, hours later and a setting sun, we where not there yet. Turns out Team Ska had chosen a camp site 10 miles closer than we had. So we stopped by to say hello as the sun was setting before our final 10 miles of slow rocky desert riding. At this point we should also admit that we gave into their generous offer to share some of their large water stores... but to be clear we only took about 35 ounces each. Enough for tea and dish washing for the night and morning. We finished the last 10 miles in the dark with only a little navigation trouble due to the lack of visible landmarks. Thankfully I brought along my super dyno hub light that illuminated the trail well, even before the moon rise. We where spent, and ready for bed.

Day 3: We had to spend a little extra time in the morning repairing a broken pannier mount due to the continued pounding and high weight, but it only put us back about an hour. Day 3 turned out to be nice and actually pretty short. The ride to the trail split was about 18 miles. At the trail split we had to chose the Shafer Trail climb, or the ride out to pot ash, then continued ride up Longs canyon to the car. The Shafer trail is about 1700ft in about 5 miles, and the visual stimuli is amazing. The grade isn't too bad, and the road well cared for so it was really just a nice beautiful grind. The only problem was the road was closed due to 'covered in ice' as Olive oil had stated. But those of you familiar with the desert and how things go, would probably have a difficult time with the idea of it being covered in ice with very little snow visible around the park. After evaluating the likelihood of olive oil being wrong (very likely) and the fact that many bike tracks had passed through the trail since the last rain/snow event. We decide it was likely open to bikes by now anyway and took the risk.

made the right decision as it was an excellent climb with 1 or 2 unrideable snow sections, but by snow I mean like 3 inches of very walkable snow. You could see the bikes from above just rode through. After reaching the top we finished the 10 grueling miles back on the Asphalt to the car.

Great ride, excellent scenery, and good friends. I would recommend it to anyone who can get a reasonably big tire on your touring bike, and has some good MTB skills. Or if you don't have the skills, take the MTB bike and its easy, with just a lot of miles

Cottonwood Ninnies

As most of you know, its been a tough season in the Wasatch. I've done my best to keep my hopes high, and I still will. November to January I compensated with good Ice climbing and running. But I've never been that good of an ice climbing AND I've never been able to focus on ice for an entire season. I guess its a good thing I live is a place with short ice season.

Finally in February, a little snow has begun to fall. Although its the solution, its also the problem. Some people have a saying in the Wasatch that you don't huck until you've got a 100inch base. Well right now Alta is reporting a 77 inch base. If you've been skiing at all you know exactly what its like out there: A mine field of roots, stumps, fallen trees, rocks, depth hoar, and even dirt patches. Last week we did the super tour because it seemed like more fun to traverse than to ski. During the route I got confused multiple times--not because of lack of knowledge of the route, but because the terrain was completely different than normal. For example, West Hogum is like a gerbil maze the size of an airport. except for its made with rocks. To add to the difficulty the snow pack resembles a continental snowpack with endless depth rot creating a ticking time bomb.

After much suffering and what I reasoned was a patient wait for the snow, we bailed and went North, as far as necessary to find it. When we finally found it, I got much more than I bargained for--a look inside myself.

Day 1 was tame enough as we skied a late afternoon shorty with ridiculous deep powder on 30 degree slopes with an easy skate back on a packed track. It was the lure to bring us deep inside. Day 2 we ventured higher and farther to find another excellent ski experience that was filled with difficult route finding due to an incredible unstable snow pack. It was a time where giving into that steep powder slope would almost certainly have serious consequences. Thankfully I'm usually surround by smarter, more level headed decision makers.

This continued on, and we got more involved in the terrain and the snow and created bigger and bigger goals. By the last day went for our big goal of the trip, a majestic, high altitude backcountry peak. In the heart of the wilderness. The approach included snowmobiles, trucks, river crossings, extra gu, digital topo maps, and lots of slogging. It was clear that our goal was out of reach when we realized we wouldn't even be able to view the peak until past mid day. Earlier in the trip a partner had coined the term 'Cottonwood Ninnies' as a joke to our weakness. This last day made it clear, I was not up for the challenge.

Its when you push tell you can't, then keep pushing that you really find yourself, ultra-runners talk about the wall, and then the pit, then climbing out of the pit. What I learned was the meaning of the words 'Cottonwood Ninnies.' It was me.

Panama: Monkeys, Sloths, and fritas bananas.

After a complete failure of a ski trip attempt to the Cordillera Blanca, I had no choice but to go on a solo bike trip, again. I know most people out their put this in the 'fringe' category, even if you do it with someone. Yet if you do it alone, its just dangerous, and the questions are always... 'why would you do that?' Well I have no answers, but I do have a good experience and hopefully an enjoyable story.

After deliberating on locations about where I could go for two weeks with my bike that's cheap, the weather is nice, and the flights aren't too bad I settled on Panama, with a touch of Costa Rica. As always, with little planning, a map, a bike and a digital lonely planet I headed out.

When I reached Panama City Panama on the first night I saw almost nothing of the city because it was late, and I wasn't supposed to go out at night in that city. The next morning I woke up in my dorm style room full of older than teenage types who had been staying a bit to long on the Hostel train. I quietly took my large bags to the balcony, shut the door, and started assembling the Surly. 2 hours or so later, I was ready to depart the smelly, hot hostel. With the excitement of a new adventure I set off intending to find some breakfast. After some confusion I found a nice cafeteria style dive with empanada's, french fries, and an assortment of other fried meats. This would actually be the best breakfast for a long time. After my $1.50 I was off to find my way OUT of the city. I did spend some time riding around the Casco Vieja, to have a look at the ancient Spanish ruins. Not my first choice in 'beautiful old places.' but interesting non the less. The trick was no stopping too close to any of the sketchy looking street crowd that couldn't help but get their hand in your stuff. After getting lost numerous times, I finally just ended up using my compass to get out of town. As reported by the Lonely Planet, after leaving the historic district I moved into suburbia, filled with middle classers, SUV's, and departments stores. Boring! But, safe. From here I headed North along the Canal (yes, THE canal) towards the Mira Flores Locks to watch some big metal and lots of wasted fresh water. After paying my $5 entrance fee It was nice to see them in operation, get wi-fi and use a clean bathroom.

Later on I experienced the real panama. Rain, it began about 1pm, and it continued on and off... for the next week. I was ready though with all my rain gear. After crossing the canal for some photo's I joined the Pan-American Highway heading West North West. I spent endless miles through hot weather, driving rain, and clouds before night started to fall. My first problem of the trip: Finding a place to stay at night. I had planned on staying in the town of La Chorrera, which seems to be a large enough town to have some accommodations. I was navigating reasonably well to this point, at least I thought so. I started riding at about 7:00am with stops for breakfast, water, and the canal. When it finally started getting dark at about 6:30 I was wondering if I would ever make it to La Chorrera. So I started to ask around for a Hotel, but no one seemed to know where one was. Finally I got sent to the Policia to chat with them. The Captain gracefully told me that their was not a hotel within 30km of our location, and that La Chorrera was 30 km back in the direction I had came. So much for my navigation skills. The Captain also told me that I would be spending the night with them at the police station. So I spent a nice night working hard on my Spanish, and being very, very safe.

The next day I got out reasonably early and headed for something more visually stimulating... like the beach. It was during my next ride that I saw the sloth. Funniest creature I've ever seen in the wild. About the size of my cat with the same white hair, but soaking wet. (what a surprise) and it moved across the ground so very slow. It made me smile just to watch it. After a much shorter day I found a surf school with beach front camping somewhere near playa corona. I had a nice night swinging in my hammock listening to the waves crash.

The following day was a rather painful 80km filled with rain, and more rain. The Pan-Am highway is excellent riding, most of the time. It has a large shoulder, slow speed limits, and is reasonably well maintained. The downside is that when they put in a bridge, the shoulder completely disappears. So you have to go out into the lane and cross the bridge. So every time you come to a bridge (which is often in Central America) you have to stop, wait for a break in the traffic, and then sprint across. (sprint is a little inappropriate for a 80 lb. bike). Finally as night was approaching I reached the town of Aguadulce, which just happened to be having a festival! Unfortunately it was raining in sheets again, so I didn't spend much time outside. However, it was fun to watch from my balcony.

The next day I decide to skip the inland cycling and catch a bus to David, a centrally located town in the Chiriqui Lowlands, probably a good hard 2-3 days ride. When I got into town I went straight for the Purple House Hostel. Probably my favorite place that I stayed on the whole trip. It is actually all Purple, inside and out.

The staff was excellent, the visitors resources where unbelievable, and it had an excellent kitchen. The next day I decided to head for the north Coast, over the continental divide. How hard could it be? So I headed back East to Chiriqui for the harded 60km ride of the trip. It was also the best 60km of the trip. The Chiriqui province is very different than Santiago, or Panama City, or even Colon. It is a beautiful, lush, fertile, rainforest with big mountains, waterfalls, and limestone--oh and monkeys. As I started out of town I quickly hit the mountains and started the slow, grind to the top, which was somewhere in the range of 4-5000ft, from sea level. A brutal climb for any bike. This was the first time I left the Pan-American Highway, and it was wonderful. The road was well cared for because it was the tourist route to Bocas del Toro.

I stopped at one roadside store to get a drink to go with my one water bottle. I chose the only thing I could see from the window, since I was never sure what I would get. Turns out it was 'malt flavored soda.' Wow, that is probably the worst combination ever thought up. 1.5 L of that and 24 oz of water was all I would have for the next 18 hours. I got lost in one town that had a bunch of unmarked roads where I asked for directions. The old man pointed right and then up to the sky, multiple time. He followed his gesture by looking at my bike and laughing hysterically. Not really a good sign, but I was psyched still so I didn't really notice. 6 hours of climbing later and 5 hours of rain, I wasn't so psyched. Standing under a tin shelter that kept most of the poring rain out I thought, this must be about the top. I was sure this was the last hill. Well when I stopped for dinner at about 6:00pm and the darkness was coming, I still wasn't at the top yet: not after 40 miles. The good news was that I was close, just one big hill away. I stopped at a tiny shed that had been turned into 'cafe hamburger' where I met two of my favorite locales: Andre and Blanca. They only made one item at their shop, hamburgers

Sauteed pre made, frozen patties with way too much Catchup, an old tomato. It was perfect. After much difficulty in communication for an hour, they offered to let me camp in the back in the grass... After evaluating the grass it became clear that it was more like a rice paddy with 4 inches of standing water. Not too good for my bivy sack. They just kept getting more generous and I ended up sleeping in the tiny floor of the 'cafe hamburger.' The next morning Andre showed up to cook me breakfast, another hamburger. But I was very thankful for their never ending hospitality.

One of the things that I appreciate more than the sights, the places, and the wonders, is the people. Recently in Panama and Peru we have experience the most wonderful, generous, and caring people we've ever met. It always the people that have little to nothing that always give the most. The Policia, Andre and Blanca, The random Peruvian who would point us in the right direction. It didn't matter that I (we) had poor spanish, or where foreign. They always go out of their way to help us out. I'm sure its a bit of a stereo type, but it seems that those with the least seem to be the most generous; while those with the most, are the least generous. However in Peru we did get a generous ride from a wealthy accountant...

I digress, After leaving 'Cafe Hamburger' I continued on through the mountains past their massive hydroelectric plant, and many, many waterfalls. The climbing was not yet done, not for another 10 miles or so. Once we started down however, it was steep and far. As I descended the temperature kept climbing. Funny, the only time I actually needed my super light 40+ degree down bag was at the Cafe Hamburger, every other night it was just for padding.

Descending onto the North side (or West side, figure that out) the forests and climate changed a bit. It seemed that the forest became more National Geographic like, or I was just more intimately involved in it. Multiple time I wished that I had purchased a machete to strap to the bike so I could go into the jungle for a night of camping, but I didn't and there was no way to get into the jungle without a machete, or a bull dozer. I passed the 'lost and found' reserve somewhere in the night and would probably have stayed there in retrospect for a day to experience the jungle...next time. The rain was also much thinner on the North and I finally dried out a few items. unfortunately, my down coat that was in the center of my panniers, which had rain covers on them, had gotten soaked. Thankfully at 38 C things dry pretty quick.

For those of you who like to tour, one trick I've picked up from somewhere (probably reading) was to use the tops of your panniers as drying racks. It works excellent, especially on a 60 kph+ decent and a hot day. The trick in Panama is getting things out when its not raining, and then getting them back IN before it starts again. Thankfully, it didn't rain until the evening, so everything got dried.

I was now riding the North Coast road towards Bocas del Toro, and although it wasn't that difficult I kept feeling like I was out of gas and ready to call it a day. Most people would have figured it out quickly, but I'm slow so it took most of the day to realize it was the heat. It was hot all the time, and so I didn't really notice the difference, but my internal engine did. I ended up stopping at every town to poor water over myself to keep the motor cool. Finally I made it to the town of Quebrada Pastores and I was very tired. It was also pouring rain again, so I stopped for dinner at a nice, but expensive(like $5 instead of $2). I stayed the night at the hotel that was connected, and also not so nice. I anticipated another 10 miles or so to Almirante, the ferry town, but in the morning when I got up it turned out to be a mile or two... I guess Maps can't always right. Actually, every map I've used in foreign countries has been wrong at least once. The next day I took the ferry to Bocas del Toro, the famed Islands of Panama.

After arriving in town it rapidly became apparent I'd reached a tourist destination. White people where everywhere, no one stared at me, just my bike, and everyone said hello in English. Its funny how the simple cultural things make you comfortable. I found a nice, tiny, room to stay in a quit part of town (not so easy to find in Bocas). I spent a lot of time with some interesting Americans. Senor Sombrero as he called himself, and Tom Duffy, a Solar engineer, and world traveler. Senor Sombrero was just a nice guy who lived the simple life, spent 2 years riding a Walmart bike around florida, and didn't really have any goals in life. Tom Duffy, on the other had, started a solar business, has Engineered some of the largest solar systems in the world, traveled the world, built an amazing off the grid house, and then left it behind to stay in Bocas. I also took a ride along the East shoreline to get free from the town and got to experience the real island. It is very, very beautiful, and everything is for sale! It would be nicer if it was all protected from more development. I heard a lot of Howler monkeys, but I couldn't actually see any of them. I did see lots of fast and fun lizards though... big enough to be a dinner stake.

The next day I took the early boat out of Bocas. Most people would stay for weeks or at least days on an exotic tropical island like Bocas, but it just isn't for me. I tried to hang out at the beach for a while like normal people but I only made it like 30 minutes before I was back on the bike exploring. I guess I'm not into the sedentary life. When I reached Almirante I took a taxi to Changuinola to catch the bus to San Jose, Costa Rica. I made it with minutes to spare. That was the end of my cycling for the trip, sadly. As I sad uncomfortably on the bus for the 6 hours I looked out the window at the amazing rain forests of Costa Rica, and the monsterous mountains we climbed over to get to San Jose. It is definitely an amazing country, and I will likely return for another tour. After much suffering I found a nice little hostel near the airport where I spent the night and had my best meal (and most expensive $7) of the trip. The next morning I flew out to Atlanta.

As always there are good and bad parts of any adventure. This one was unique in the fact that its the first time I've spent time on my bike near the equator with lots and lots of rain. It proved to be beautiful, and not as difficult as I had imagined. The people where the highlight, and I think will always be the highlight. Like Peru, it was wonderful to experience there way of life, and see their smiles as they help you in a time of need. I'm not sure if I would return to Panama, at least not soon. If I did, the place I would go is the Mono

(http://www.carnivoreonline.com/travel/panama_2006/map/mono_feliz.html). Otherwise I would be returning to Costa Rica to head North. Step two in a very long Journey.

Minerals, Mines, and the Room of Doom

Recently I've developed a bit of a fetish with run, climb, run routes. I'm not sure if its a desire to hold onto the climbing past, need for diversity in my training, or as my wife would call it--a man crush on Jared Campbell(http://door5.com/).

Yesterday I accidentally ran into (literally) excellent Wasatch Run-Climb-Run route. There is only one small downside to this route: You have to run the only ATV accessible trail in the Wasatch. Since I run on the weekdays, during working hours, it wasn't very busy. I passed 4 motorcycles and they where all very nice, and very bewildered at the weird guy in sissy running shorts. The trail starts at the Mineral Fork ATV trailhead in BCC. Follow the ATV width, loose rock/Sand trail almost to the highest basin where Regulator Johnson Mine is in sight (http://nrwrt1.nr.state.ut.us/quads/q024/pq1421.gif), As your climbing up the steep, loose trail keep your eyes on Cardiac Ridge and look for the obvious narrow clean low angle slab. The trail will take you within about 1000 yards from the base. (See photo) Cut off the trail here, and head straight up for the fabulous looking slab. You will see some old tracks where some hot shot four wheeler high marked on this hill.

I climbed this in my Merril Glove Running shoes (http://www.merrell.com/US/en-US/Product.mvc.aspx/22875M/50390/Mens/Barefoot-Trail-Glove) Probably the best option for any such run/climb. The only other option would be the NB Minimus (http://www.newbalance.com/nb-minimus/). Normal running shoes are probably the WORST climbing option with their fat sole and lose fit. I don't know the actual height of the route but I'd guess 600-1000ft. I'd give it an alpine 5.6 with options on the slab to 5.9 and 5.10+ if you take the arete. There are two cruxes on the route the second being the scariest due to the integrity of the rock being questionable. The key, as with all alpine climbing, don't just pull on the biggest hold you can find, pull on the strongest one. All in all the rock quality is very good for its location, just slightly below what you'd get on the West Slabs of Mt. Olympus. And if you get scared you can traverse left into the dihedral for some dirty corner climbing.

When you reach the top, you will find yourself on the knife of Cardiac ridge. I contemplated going North on the ridge but due to time down climbed the Cardiac slabs into Cardiff Ford of Mill D South. If you did the climb to the ridge, you can do the down climb. Due to confusion with the actual location of the Room of Doom, I'm pretty sure this is NOT the Room, but just in case I'm wrong this could be a down climb through the Room of Doom, but I think this route is actual a few ridges South of the Room of Doom.

After getting off the slab head for the double track slightly up canyon (South) leading to the Baby M. Mine, which sits at the bottom of the Tunnel chute. From here catch the well traveled double track almost to the bottom of the canyon where you will see a distinct single track veer to the left (NW) as the road takes a sharp right (East). Follow the single track until you reach the power line trail. Follow the power line trail past the fancy pants houses until it almost disappears. When the power lines split, take the downhill trail that shortly becomes better. Follow this trail all the way to BCC highway. From there about a mile down the road back to the Mineral fork trail head.

Stats
Distance: 12.1 miles (gps)
Altitude: about 3700ft (7.5 USGS)
Time: 4:18
Average HR: 137
Max HR: 172
Calories: 2481
pace: 18:45

A note on safety: This route requires significant climbing and alpine route assessment skills. A major judgement error or fall could cause serious injury or death. If you are questioning if you have the skills, bring a rope and a small rack. Rock shoes are advised, although not necessary.