Seven Summits Challenge 2010

The Seven Summits Challenge - September 18, 2010

Driving down the day before, I was uncertain what the future would hold for me. The physical challenge appeared daunting. I was torn between Doubt and Confidence. I told myself that I had done equivalent distances many times before; that I'd done harsher challenges; that I just need to pace myself and I would be able to do it. But the shock of cold on Friday morning got me to question whether I should have packed my gaiters, whether there would be snow, and if I would get lost. I was also pretty sure that I didn't want to add another 10 km's of road riding on to the challenge.

But, in less than 24 hours I would be under way on the challenge.

As I left Fort St. John on Friday morning the sun hung as a disc, low in the sky, with wisps passing in front and the fog burning below actually appearing brighter than the sun itself. Pulling up out of Taylor, however, the sky was clear and bright.

In Dawson Creek, fall was definitely apparent, with trees in the downtown core shedding their leaves like they were throwing them down, and touches of frost were visible everywhere.

As I continued West to Prince George there wre a mix of trees in different stages of fall. Some stands were vibrant green, and others were mixtures of yellow and orange. the trees that were standing alone had almost invariably changed colour already.

Driving into the Pine Pass

Saturday, September 18, 2010 - race morning.

We got up early and got dressed and ready to head to the start in Barkerville. It was a cold start, being about -3 degrees celcius in Barkerville, with frost dusting everything around. I had on most of the warm gear I had brought with me, bearing cold weather tights, climbing shorts, wooly socks, a thermal base layer, cold weather bike gloves, and a soft shell jacket. The only things I wasn't wearing that I'd brought was one of the toques and the polar fleece in my pack, just in case. Despite this, the cold still made its presence known, especially in my hands, which were getting cold while I was waiting for the race to start.

Nancy Anne geared up for the race.

Theo, stretching before the race. I'm certain that's why he finished so fast.

With the pop of the gun (Dave's thumb popping out of his mouth), we were off.

We started up the main street of Barkerville, enjoying a gentle climb. This eventually passed out of the historical village, onto an old road, and becoming a steeper ascent, which I wasn't ready for yet, meaning that I started to push the bike up.

One of the push sections.

I made my way up this hill, biking when I could, with a feeling of nauseau rising, eventually realizing this frozen-hand, ache, and feeling of wanting to puke could only be the "Screaming Barfies" I'd heard about from ice climbers. I was outraged! What foul injustice that I should get this?!

The trail eventually turned down and I got a chance to put into practice what I had learned for mountain biking. I whipped down the trail, riding even over a pipe that crossed the trail, and even managed enough speed to go a way up the trail when the steep up resumed.

A bit before the bike drop, I caught up with Sonja and Dave, and we began the first hike together. We hiked up to and around a lake, then up a large scree slope and ridge, to the first true summit, for a first summit photo and card.

Lake at the base of Mount Agnes.

Scree slope heading up Mount Agnes.

Lake as seen from up the slope.

Sonja, Dave, and I at Mount Agnes Summit.

We then made our way quickly to the next summit, by a beautiful alpine meadow, and began the descent back to the bikes.

Free: One beater sled to whoever can recover it.

Bald Mountain Summit.

Interesting patterns in the moss.

Sonja goes to test the Leaning Tower of Outhouse. We declined to spot it.

Sonja eventually decided it wasn't worth it and used the bush instead.

Back on the bikes, it was now time to ride back down the rough, rocky trail we had climbd. Having a full suspension and experience at this kind of riding, Dave flew down and ahead, followed by Sonja, and finally myself on hard tail bikes.

I tried to read the lines down the slope as best I could, trying to avoid lose rocks, sharp dips, and I mostly accomplished this, with my right hand on my rear brake control, almost constantly engaging it, and a fair bit of fear screaming through my brain. So, rattling and bouncing but remaining upright, screaming down relatively safe spots, I caught up with Sonja and Dave in the flats, and we continued on together. After this point, we agreed to stick together and finish as a group.

We found the ditch trail and ripped along it until we finally made it to the Cow Mountain grind, which we made quick work of despite the extreme grade. I did a bit of scree/slope running back down to the bikes, and then we were on our way back to Wells for lunch, barrelling down the old mining road, hitting 55km/h, tearing through the corners and eventually crossing a streambed to get onto the road to lunch.

Sonja and Dave on the ditchline trail.

Dave and Sonja on the ditchline trail.

Vertical Panorama of Cow Mountain Grind.

Sonja and Dave riding into Wells for lunch.

Lunch was a mix of grilled cheese sandwiches and a delicious soup. There were power bars, energy gels, and powerade available as well, and I helped myself to a powerade. Apparently, I should have helped myself to a few other of the power items, but that's getting ahead of the story.

Dave and I decided to take advantage of being by the motel to shed some weight that we wouldn't need. Off went most of my warm gear, keeping only the soft shell as I stripped off my insulated tights, feeling pretty hot in just my shorts and t-shirt as it was. I didn't figure that this would change enough that I wouldn't be able to deal with it by slapping on my softshell or the light rain jacket I also had in my pack.

After dropping the extra gear, we met back up with Nancy Anne, chatted for a bit, and then all four of us headed out again, on the ride to the final trailhead. On this stretch, my training on the trails around Fort St. John really paid off, as we rode trails through the woods, across bridges, and finally, onto a gravel road. For the first part, I easily kept up to Sonja and Dave, and actually pulled ahead on the road.

Somewhere on the trail, though, we left NancyAnne behind, and so we were only 3 arriving at the bike drop and start of the final hike - Up the Yellowhawk Trail, to Mount Murray, over to Slide, and down to our (shuttled) bikes, waiting for us.

Written like that, it sounds easy. It was not.

We left our bikes and biking gear at the bike drop and started up the Yellowhawk Trail.

It began as a fairly steep, narrow trail, heading up through the forest. At the first break I ate a bit more, going through a fruit bar pretty quickly. As we climbed higher, I began breathing more heavily, and wanted to take breaks more and more frequently. We had no point of reference for how far we had gone, or how close we were to the top, and I began to struggle against the mental as well as physical battle. Try as I mightm nothing was raising my energy level and I began to think about giving up.

Instead of quitting, I thought about Melinda, who had completed the Wisconsin Ironman, battling dehydration and a similar power drain last weekend, but kept going. So, i focused on one foot in front of another until I absolutely needed a break, which we did at the base of the last "hill" before the check in below Murray summit. I guess I should note that this "hill" was almost a 4th class scramble up a sandy/rocky slope.

Waiting at the base of this hill, Nancy Anne caught up wiht us again, with some alarming news: She had gotten through the bike drop only 7 minutes before the cutoff time, and we had only about 20 minutes before the Murray Summit cutoff.

With that news we began the last push to the check in. Somehow, I made it up the slope to the start of the alpine meadow, and from there to the check in. NancyAnne fell behind on the climb, and we did not see her again until she crossed the finish line.

Here, the volunteers had a very large bag of scotch mints and encouraged us to dig in. I took a handful and ate them quickly, while the details fo the route to the summit, and from there to Slide, were explained. Leaving on this journey I started feeling better; the fast sugar starting to kick in, and I took another handful of the mints for my pocket, to maintain this growing energy.

Shortly after this we reached the Murray Summit and began the trek to Slide, first walking the ridge, then bushwacking down into the valley between the two mountains.

Sonja, Dave, and myself at the Murray Summit.

Looking at the ridge toward Slide.

The bush became so intimate that conversation turned to this, and we began debating the correct term; Was it silviphilia, botophilia, or perhaps something else that best describes enjoying small trees becoming entirely too engaged in contact with ones groin.

As you might guess, the mood and energy level lifted considerably, and it was in good amounts of both that we summitted Slide.

Myself, Dave, and Sonja on Slide Summit.

The descent from Slide was steep and long. It felt like we descended for over an hour, and still didn't get very far. Marking our progress down based on the surrounding mountains on the horizon, it looked like we still had a long way to go, even when the trees eventually blocked the view of the horizon.

We continued down the steep almost trail until it finally leveled out and became a single track trail by a stream, and eventually we got to the bikes for the final ride.

We started on a gravel road and  tapped into the nergy I was feeling continuing to build, and gained speed. But, this wasn't enough for the first steep hill, as I ground to a stop and had to push the rest of the way up it. After this, though, there was no stopping as we continued to climb, and I gave a shout of joy when the up ended and it was finally time for the descent and ride into down.

Riding around and through puddles, up and down short, mercifully not steep hills, and eventually back onto the road into Wells, I felt driven. I felt that I'd tapped into a wellspring of energy that I'd needed before, that this was a whole lot of fun.

Lakes on the way back to Wells.

And so, together, Sonja, Dave, and I pulled into Wells and rode to the finish in a line, side by side, in a 3-way tie for 24th overall, a full 11 hours, 33 minutes, and 18 seconds after leaving the starting line at Barkerville.

After retrieving our vehicles from Barkerville, and the best shower ever, we went to the Bear's Paw for dinner, and to cheer on those competitors who were still coming in.

Somewhere in there, we cheered NancyAnne's arriving, but it was a bit of a blur for me. In the middle of eating, 6 more people made it in, after dark, with the final 4 being escorted in by a car, their way lit by its headlights.

Everyone who completed the Challenge had done something amazing and to be celebrated.

Swag from the race.

Fall colours in the Pine Pass on my way home.