On July
28th, I took on a challenge that has not been done before. When doing
something like this, no matter how much planning and preparation that is
put into it can anticipate the unknown variables that unfold throughout
the day. The challenge was to run the seven tallest and most prominent peaks
around Big Bear Valley, California established as the Seven Summits of
Big Bear. To add to the difficulty, I was to run these and link them all
together beginning and ending in the Village of Big Bear Lake within a
24 hour period.
My challenge had me leaving the Village at 6:16am. I would need to run over one ridge, and down into a valley for a total of eleven miles before even starting my ascent to
my first peak. At my first check point, I was right on schedule and
feeling great.
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| Getting my Wilderness Permit |
From there I began my eighteen mile ascent to the top of
San Gregornio Mountain. During the climb, I ran out
of water about twelve miles in. The day was hot and dry and the water
went fast. With running out of fluid came cramping in the legs which had
me walking. I was able to reach the peak at 11,503' where a hiker was
kind enough to give me a bottle of Gatorade.
I spent very little time
taking in the peak and its gorgeous views because by now, I should have
already been coming up close to my next check point. Feeling better and
cramping subsided, I was able to run again. I headed down the trail as
fast as safety would allow. However, by the time I reached my next trail
junction, I was out of fluid again. Fortunately, a couple was resting
by the trail and stopped me for directions. They were nice enough to
offer me a couple of bottles of water, and I was on my way again. As I
continued to run, the trail seemed to go on endlessly. Fearing I was
lost or had taken a wrong turn, I checked my GPS frequently. To my
surprise each time, I was on course. Just when I thought I was nearing
my check point, I ran out of water again. Unfortunately, calculations on
the computer had my mileage way off. I still had at least three miles
to go and my mouth was so dry, I could not even spit. To make matters
worse, I had not cell coverage to let my wife or other crew member know
that I was OK. At nearly three hours late, I was finally able to find
cell coverage and quickly called my wife. She was at the Ranger's
station and they were about ready to call Search and Rescue. I met up
with her before the next check point to avoid any mishaps. I refueled,
rehydrated, and discussed the timing for the next check point. I felt
great heading out and was determined to make up some time. Following my
GPS to the next trail, I found it was off by over a mile and a half and I
had to turn around backtrack putting me another forty five minutes behind schedule.
Finally
on the next trail to Sugarloaf peak, I realized that in my haste to
make up time, I forgot to grab my head lamp. I ended up summiting
Sugarloaf peak in the dark. The trail was extremely rocky and difficult
to follow in the night making my progress extremely slow and running an
impossibility. Typically, I would be running down the hill at a fast
pace, but was reduced to poking my way though the single track trails
putting me way behind schedule. Finally emerging from the forest and
onto the road where my next check point would be, my wife was not to be
found. Afraid she may have become too uncomfortable waiting in the
middle of the night for me on a road in the middle of nowhere, I headed
to the highway and made my way towards my next check point. Upon
reaching the city, she found me. I could see a wave of emotions on her
face that ranged from terrified, to angry, to relief. No communication
from me for hours and I was in the forest in the dead of night; I could
not fault her for any of those emotions. It also made me realize that I
was not the only one taking the risks out there. My wife had been
driving around looking for me on roads she did not know, in the dark,
with our eight year old boys in the car. Additionally, my friend was
going to meet me on off-road trails near the other peaks. I had a
decision to make. Do I continue on, face other potential setbacks and
put others in danger? I thought about it and decided that while the two
toughest, farthest peaks were out of the way, the dangers
far out-weighed the benefits. So at sixty miles and nearly 16,000 feet
of climbing, I called off the challenge in the interest of safety.
A
week later, I look back at the decision and do not regret it one bit.
The challenge is not dead and I will attempt it again in the near
future. I have gained experience that could only have been gained out on
the trail. I know what trails to take now, what the demands of the
mountains are, and what additional supplies I need to take.
So
until another day, I will continue training and having fun with my new
found passion of running to the summit of any nearby peak I can find.
