<![CDATA[Medical Illustration Medical Illustration - Through the graep-vine]]> http://www.graepelstudios.com/page9496.htm en-us ImpactFolios RSS Generator Sawtooth Traverse http://www.graepelstudios.com/page9496.htm?blog=2268 <p><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; ">&ldquo;Steve, I&rsquo;ve got an idea ...&rdquo;</span><!--StartFragment--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 13px; "><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">This is how it always starts.&nbsp;One of us drops the bait.&nbsp; Only this time it wasn&rsquo;t me.&nbsp; </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s do the Wonderland &hellip;&rdquo;</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">The Wonderland Trail circumnavigates Washington State&rsquo;s Mt. Rainier, with a collective 20,000-foot vertical gain in 93 miles.&nbsp;It&rsquo;s been in our black book of to-do trips for several years.&nbsp; </span></span></span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Calibri;color:#1F497D"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">&ldquo;...in two days.&rdquo; </span></span></span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Calibri;color:#1F497D"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">Like carp to corn, I&rsquo;m hooked.</span></span></span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Calibri;color:#1F497D"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">Now, doing the Wonderland in two days isn&rsquo;t as easy as you might think.&nbsp;It requires planning, gear evaluation, style decisions (run it? hike it?), food selection, training &ndash; lots of training, and generally building mental and physical calluses, so that when it&rsquo;s no longer fun, it&rsquo;s still doable.&nbsp; </span></span></span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Calibri;color:#1F497D"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">Early summer was quickly turning to late summer, which meant training season was rapidly coming to an end.&nbsp;After countless 20-, 30- and 40-mile runs in the Boise foothills, all that was left was one last training session: a shakedown. &ldquo;Sounds like a breakdown,&rdquo; a co-worker offered helpfully.&nbsp; </span></span></span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Calibri;color:#1F497D"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">My goal was to run across two mountain ranges in central Idaho. I planned to drop a bike at the end and a car at the start, run in between, then bike back to the car.&nbsp; After asking 40 or so people, I cut my expectations in half.&nbsp; </span></span></span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Calibri;color:#1F497D"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">Trucker coffee in my hand, map in my wife&rsquo;s, I left Boise at 3:30 a.m for Stanley. I dropped the bike at the north end and headed south to Pettit Lake.&nbsp; </span></span></span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Calibri;color:#1F497D"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">About 8 a.m., I pack up my cell phone, filled my day pack with a 3 oz.-jacket, a wool cap, lightweight gloves, 100 oz. of protein slurry and about 5,000 calories of food. At the last minute, I decided to toss in a Mylar bivi sack.&nbsp; </span></span></span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Calibri;color:#1F497D"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">I slowly wove my way into the heart of the Sawtooths, greeting trailside campers with the morning sun.&nbsp;It was a mid-summer Friday, not too many people on the trail, just enough to share salutations.&nbsp;For the most part, I traveled with my thoughts.&nbsp; </span></span></span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Calibri;color:#1F497D"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">Around mile 20, I heard a helicopter coming from the south, likely Sun Valley.&nbsp; It came and went.&nbsp;Mile 25, I saw the same helicopter dropping down into the valley.&nbsp; I quickened my pace to see if I could catch it, only to see it rise up and head down the valley once more.&nbsp; It came back a third time with a bucket of water and dropped it into the Cramer Lakes area. Fish, or fire?</span></span></span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Calibri;color:#1F497D"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">Evidently the valley I&rsquo;d been running through was closed to hikers due to a lightning strike.&nbsp;I quickly made my way down to the valley floor and up the other side, where I got a clear view of what I&rsquo;d run through and where the fire burned.&nbsp; </span></span></span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Calibri;color:#1F497D"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">Fire behind me, I climbed out on the dry west-facing side of the range.&nbsp; The trail there is overgrown with juniper and sage, and tumbles down a dry creek bed.&nbsp; The backside went relatively quickly, dropping 6 miles in 40 minutes.&nbsp; Looking at the map and triangulating with the terrain, I followed the trail down to my next turnoff.&nbsp; </span></span></span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Calibri;color:#1F497D"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">It was getting late, and hot; 3:30 p.m. and about 90 degrees.&nbsp;As I walked up to Sawtooth Lake, for the first time I begin to consider how far I&rsquo;d make it before nightfall.&nbsp;And then I felt a familiar discomfort.&nbsp;My gut was no longer moving water. Everything I was drinking sat sloshing in my belly.&nbsp; </span></span></span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Calibri;color:#1F497D"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">This typically requires a &lsquo;forced reboot,&rsquo; to empty the gut and start afresh.&nbsp;I held out for 40 minutes, came across a stream and sat down, to contemplate the day, my decisions, my evening ... the Wonderland.&nbsp;It was now almost 5 and I was 7 miles from my bike.&nbsp; </span></span></span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Calibri;color:#1F497D"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">Two hours later, I climbed out of the valley and found myself at the bottom of a spectacular cirque, surrounded by 10,000-foot peaks; but unless I climbed to a summit, there was no way I was going to be able to get cell reception.&nbsp; </span></span></span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Calibri;color:#1F497D"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">No longer able to sip on the protein slurry, I emptied my Camelback and filled it from the stream.&nbsp;Gut spent, I unfurled my bivi sack and resolved to spend the night at Sawtooth Lake under alpine skies.&nbsp; </span></span></span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Calibri;color:#1F497D"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">4:30 a.m. No longer able to block out the the feeling of my bivi sack sticking to my legs, I packed up and began to walk to the north end of the lake.&nbsp; An hour later, the lights of Stanley came into view and I pulled out the phone. Two bars.</span></span></span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;font-family:Calibri;color:#1F497D"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="font-family: Calibri; ">I make the call home, tuck my tail between my legs, run down to my cached bike and ride into Stanley.&nbsp;I pulled into a coffee shop and ate the last slivers of jerky as I watched sleepy people come and go.&nbsp; I saddled up, checked in with the forest station and continued on to the car, stopping every 45 minutes to refuel the body on the way home.</span></span></span></p><!--EndFragment--> Sat, 04 Apr 2009 02:54:07 EST http://www.graepelstudios.com/page9496.htm?blog=2268?blog=2268 Morning Run http://www.graepelstudios.com/page9496.htm?blog=2267 <p><span style="font-size: small; "><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; ">This morning before work I was on a long run in the Boise foothills. The moon was half full, but still cast the hills in a cool blue. &nbsp;Although I run this route nearly weekly, the lunar light threw everything out of reference, making what was old new again.&nbsp; That, and we&rsquo;ve had an inversion for the last month, cloaking everything under 4000&rsquo;. In my first hour I ran under a heard of elk standing 50&rsquo; up the hill from me.&nbsp; I didn&rsquo;t have my headlamp on, so they likely couldn&rsquo;t make me out on the trail below them.&nbsp; But the moon highlighted their silhouettes against the inky sky.&nbsp; Then I thought to myself &quot;Cripes!&nbsp; I owe Zina a story!&quot; This isn&rsquo;t it.&nbsp; But I&rsquo;ll get on it this week.</span></span></span></p> Sat, 04 Apr 2009 02:42:38 EST http://www.graepelstudios.com/page9496.htm?blog=2267?blog=2267