Epic run up Ben Lomond July 2nd!

I went down to Utah at the end of June with the intention of running from Smith and Morehouse to Bald Mountain in the Uintas with my best friend Tim. The problem was that even though we waited to do the event until the first week of July, the weather had been so cold and wet this past spring that the Uinta Mountains were completely snowed over.

We had to think fast and come up with an alternate idea. I decided to take a test run to 9,500' in the Wasatch Mountains and see how the conditions were. I ran to Francis Peak and found that it was no problem if I stayed on south and west slopes of the range (more to come on that run). The north slopes were still quite snowy but it seemed reasonable that we could handle any run in the Northern Wasatch.

So while in North Ogden I stopped off at Tim's house and decided to talk to him about our options. We set our sites on 9,712' tall Ben Lomond. The idea was to hit the North Ogden Divide and run the south ridge all the way to the summit. Here is where we ran into our next problem. Tim called me that night and informed me that the North Ogden Divide was closed due to rock slides. We couldn't really get anywhere near the trail head. We devised a new plan to attack it via the east and north slopes of the North Fork Park (I knew that we would be dealing with some serious snow).

We met at about 5:30 am and drove to the trail head. The sun was already beating down on us as we started the run. We didn't quite know where the actual trail started and ran around the campgrounds a bit to find the actual trail near some corrals, which allowed us to stretch the legs and get the cobwebs out. I was still a bit fatigued from hammering a 13 mile 3,000' run just two days earlier and I could tell the elevation and heat would slow me down but in the end I could care less the mountain air was fresh and crisp, the sky a sapphire blue, and we were doing what I love most about running - propelling ourselves skyward!

The first few miles were beautiful and the trail was in great condition. We were able to quickly move up the mountain in good time. We purposely held back and took our time because we knew that the upper reaches of the mountain weren't going to be a picnic. After several miles of smooth sailing we began to ascend into ever higher trails and then ran into our first snow bank. The snow was soft and made a steep bevel that covered the trail. The edges of our shoes bit into the snow and we navigated the bank with little difficulty. The next bank was a bit longer and more solid than the previous one. Tim, being a road marathoner, was wearing his Mizuno Wave Runner's which have about 600 miles on them. We joked that he was doing an off-road event in racing slicks. This was Tim's first real trail running attempt and as we ran the snow I could see that his shoes were not going to handle too much snow but I thought "it is July, how much snow could there be up there?"

As we made continual progress up the slope we found the snow becoming more and more common. Finally it began to no longer be just a hindrance but a hazard as we side-sloped large ice fields with seemingly endless drop-offs. The once amazing and runnable trail was masked by large snow fields. We would continually lose the trail and have to find it after zig-zagging the snowy slopes. With all the challenges the snow were posing we began to work out a system where I would kick steps into the icy pitches and Tim would follow in my footsteps with his racing slicks. We found a smooth rhythm and began to make some good progress again. After several slow miles of kicking steps and finding the trail we reached a large gully that was choked with snow and ice. We could see that it lead toward the saddle that marked the beginning of the final approach to the summit. All we could see though was white. There was little hope of being able to ascend the last 600 feet without a better form of traction. With disappointment I told Tim that with a pair of Kahtoola Microspikes we would be able to launch ourselves right up the slopes.

We decided to run around a large hip that protruded from the slopes of Ben Lomond. As we rounded the corner we were met with the awe-inspiring 9,764' crags of Willard Peak. All I could to do was drool as I imagined myself standing on its summit in a perfect "snow free" world. Alas it was not to be. It would have been unwise to continue with racing-slicks and besides our unprotected eyes were now looking at the blinding light coming off the snow fields for an hour or two and snow blindness is something neither of us wanted. We decided to call off our summit bid and we anxiously looked back over the miles of mushy snow that stood between us and fast downhill running.

We picked our way back but continually were having issues following our footsteps back and after some confusion we realized there was a subsequent pair of insane runners like ourselves that had attempted the same run. We eventually ran into them as they descended as well having suffered our same fate of getting snowed out. We joked and shared running stories and enjoyed the unspoken bond that links all crazy runners. We all parted ways and began to pick up the pace as the snow thinned out more and more with each step.

Finally we reached the sloping trails leading back to the trail head. After several hours of slipping and sliding and kicking steps in the snow we were able to finally run! We pointed ourselves down hill and really turned up the heat! We floated down the gentle curves of the wooded apron that surrounds Ben Lomond. Leaping streams and flying across slopes covered in lush green grass and wildflowers, we finally felt more like runners and less like mountaineers.

The heat of the day and humidity rising from the dense vegetation gave one a sense of running in a sauna. Before we knew it we were down from the mountain and just meters from the trail head. Our water had run out just as we reached the car. We had given it our best shot and though we were unable to summit something told me as we stood side by side gazing at the blinding jewel that marked the summit we would be back. Tim may be able to run it quite soon but I live 900 miles to the northwest and will have to wait for another year. Perhaps next year I will be able to give it another go and we may even be able to nail Willard while we are at it.

Perhaps the highlight of the trip was running with Tim. Our running journey's have followed completely different paths. I have been running for almost 5 years now and have found myself drawn to the trails of British Columbian, where Tim has been running for only a year and a half and has spent most of his time on the roads training for half and full marathons. That being said two best friends of nearly 20 years who have polar opposite running styles and backgrounds were able to reconnect and share our first of many running experiences together and enjoy the camaraderie and joy that comes from running. Something tells me this is just the first page of a whole new chapter of our friendship.

Tim is currently spending the week with me on the island and we are already creating new and amazing running experiences here. I will blog about these amazing runs in the weeks to come.

Here is a video made by Tim of our amazing run. I have not been able to gather all my multimedia from the trip yet but will post it soon. I love the video Tim made and I feel it does a beautiful job of catching the amazing time we had during our first run together ever. Enjoy!