Things I've Seen (and Smelled) On Recent Runs

Last weekend I ran 15 miles from Winooski through the Intervale to the New North End and back through Burlington. This weekend I ran 17 miles from Winooski to Colchester, down the bike path and around Winooski again. A few photos:

She looks lonely, but the rest of the cows were nearby on the riverbank.

What ARE these?!

The Intervale is an agricultural area in Burlington that takes advantage of the rich river-deposited soil. That said, I have never actually seen cows drinking from the river in all the times I've run through there. So cool!

Further along near the Ethan Allen Homestead, I stopped to loop at the trail map on the park bulletin board, when I noticed the sign posts were crawling with these red and black bugs. I didn't study the grass, but they were definitely coming up from the ground. Filed under "cool/gross."


And then I ran waaay out to Peninsula Point, an oxbow on the river that forms pretty field edged by trees. On the far side of the field -- the farthest point from the trail head -- I found this:

A monkey mascot carefully draped over a tree limb. At first I thought it was a eagle costume (not that that would make it more explainable...) but it was definitely a monkey. Someone would have had to walk a few miles in the monkey suit (or carry it) to get to this point. If not the sunny blue sky and the good mood radiating from all the people I passed on the trails, I would have found this scene... worrisome. Instead, I just want to know: who left the monkey suit in the woods?


I don't usually take photos while I'm running, but for various reasons I've been carrying my iPhone on long runs lately. What my phone can't capture is the smells I encounter. Farmland, at least at this time of year, does not smell like manure. In fact, it just smells like outdoors. Like Vermont. But the city offers a few distinct smells. Particularly on Riverside Driver, which is less river and more industrial park. Within about 100 yards, I pass the two most polar opposite smell locations in Burlington: the waste water treatment plant, and the Koffee Cup donut factory. One is awfully, olfactorily offensive; the other is deliciously sweet and hunger-inducing. Best to hit them in that order.




This weekend's long run has one picture to capture the weather: soft, gray everything. The sky, the horizon, the river, the lake. For long stretches on the bike path, I didn't see another person, but it didn't feel lonely or sad. The temperature was warm, and the air felt soft. Most of the leaves are on the ground now, but enough are still on the trees to give the bike path a foggy, quiet leaf-shroud.

From the Colchester-Winooski bridge, the lake was silent, and soft-gray.

Camel's Hump: Wisdom on the Mountain

The route I chose to hike Camel's Hump started in Duxbury, looped across three trails to the summit and back down. Steep climb through woods and exposed rock; the hiking guide said it was a difficult 7.5 mile hike.

The morning was gorgeous, heading out at 8 a.m. from the winter parking lot. The path to the top went from the Monroe Trail, Dean Trail, LT and Monroe Trail. The hike was just me and forest most of the way; I crossed paths with just one hiker on the way up, and otherwise had the trail, the birds, the trees and the views to myself. At the top, I chatted with the summit care-taker, settled into a nook in the rocks away from the wind to read and eat my lunch. When I headed down, I really should have heck the trail map one more time, but I thought I had the route committed to memory.

I had reach the summit from the south on the Long Trail, and left the summit still heading north. I intended to turn right on the Monroe Trail and back to where I started, but I managed to blow straight through the really obvious trail head, not reading the sign posts or realizing this was my trail to take. By the time I figured out my mistake, I had the choice of going back uphill to get to the Monroe Trail, or add more miles and keep heading downhill to pick up the Alpine Trail.

I chose to keep going "downhill" which turned out to be and lot of up and down stretches across a trail that seems little used and was poorly marked. Every cobweb I walked through reminded me no one else has crossed through here recently, every stream and washout made me question which direction the trail actually went. Yellow blazes were faded and too few, but every one was a relief when I spotted it.

At one point, I groused out loud to myself, "I hate getting lost!" And as soon as the thought was fully formed, I had a nice reality check. I wasn't lost. I was on a trail that is on a map and I was heading in the right direction. I wasn't where I wanted to be, but I wasn't lost. A good distinction to remember, in hiking and in life.

From that point forward, I high-fived every yellow blaze I crossed and told it, "Thank you, friend!" When the Alpine Trail finally merged with the Monroe Trail, I was so happy and relieved. Shortly after, I started crossing paths with a steady stream of hikers heading uphill, each of them looking tired and asking, how far is it to the top?  Really, it's as far or as close you make it.

100 on 100!

1 van, 100 miles, 6 awesome runners, 15 hours of roadside dance parties: this was an epic weekend!

Saturday's race started foggy and cool at 6:30 a.m. at the Trapp Lodge in Stowe, followed a hundred beautiful, hot, sunny miles down Route 100, and ended in the cool night at Okemo Mountain in Ludow. Along the way, many awesome moments:

"Do you guys want cow bells?"  When anyone asks this question, regardless of context, the answer is obviously, yes. In this case, it was before 7:30 a.m. and we were somewhere near Waterbury Center and another van of runners was handing out noise makers like party favors. More cowbell!

My first leg was my hardest, and I dare say one of the Top 3 hardest legs on the entire course. I chose it because it starts at Waitsfield Elementary and ends on East Warren Road, the heart of Mad Rover Valley where I first lived and fell in love with Vermont. Sadly, this leg is 6 miles uphill. Up long, steep hills. I was psyched to see my team cheering me on at the Round Barn, and even more psyched to finish that beast in better time and form than last year.


Off-course dance party: enthusiasm got the best of us in Warren. We left the course briefly to drive around the outside of the village and hadn't realized we weren't quite back on course when we spotted the perfect spot for a roadside cheering section. Doors opened, music cranked loud, dancing ensued. 10 minutes later, we hadn't seen our runner. Or any other runners. Or any other vans. "We're not on the course right now, are we?" "Nope. Back in the van...."

Heidi was so focused and steely in setting off on her second leg, and she killed it! It was awesome watching her tear through central Vermont in great form and huge speed. She gave me huge motivation to run hard when I took the bracelet from her in Stockbridge.


"It's Tom Chadwick!" Last year I nearly mowed him down with the van in Duxbury, prompting Jess to yell, "Oh my god it's Tom Chadwick! You almost killed Tom Chadwick!" This year we honored him on the van windows. Later, around mile 65, he blew passed me at an awesome clip but took a moment to toss over his shoulder, "It's Tom Chadwick" -- LOVED IT!

Killington: two course legs go from the bottom of Killington to the top, and they are both grueling! Flossie probably wouldn't have chosen one of these legs if she had options, but as our recently recruited fabulous sub, she took on the challenge amiably. Watching her grind away the miles while we cheered like crazy was inspiring. Her leg ended at the the crest of hill, and from where we stood waiting for her we could spot her coming up the rise into a sunny stretch completely exultant and relieved. We were so proud!


And then Flossie handed the slap bracelet off to Jess, who finished the climb to the top -- in costume!! The baddest, cutest wolf chewed up that hill in amazing form. Also spotted on the costume leg, a man dressed as Olivia Newton John, several tutus, a runner wearing a Troy Polamalu jersey and wig. That wig had to have been hot....


Karen was the biggest hero of the summer, not just the day: at the end of May she snapped a tendon in her foot while running the Vermont City Marathon (and STILL finished with a PR!). She wasn't supposed to be able to run at all till late summer, but she hammered out more than 13 miles, including the steep downhill leg on Killington before calling it a day. Total rock star!


I ran the last leg of the race in the cool, dark night and loved every bit of it. There is very little man-made light, and I could see the few feet ahead of me lit up by my headlamp. Partway through the leg, I heard Beth ahead on the roadside calling, "Patti, is that you?!" "Hey, Beth!" "We're at a maple creemee stand. I have something for you!"  Beth doesn't have the capacity for an ounce of cruelty, and putting those two facts together was accidental on her part. But I was pretty bummed when I got closer and realized she WAS at a (closed) maple creemee stand, and she DID have something for me -- a crappy bottle of water. Dang!



The last yards to the finish line were up a short hill to an ice rink at Okemo, and it was such a great feeling to see my five teammates standing there in their smart-looking hoodies cheering for me. We hit the finish line as a group just minutes before 10 p.m. Tired but filled with happiness from a satisfying day with a great community of runners.