Jemez Mountain Trail 50K 2024

 Last weekend I ran the Jemez Mountain Trail 50K in Los Alamos, NM, where scenes from the movie Oppenheimer were filmed. Sadly, I have not seen the flick yet, but have read a lot about the Manhattan Project and am intrigued by physics and nuclear energy. I’m amazed by the fact that within 2-3 years scientists and others working in Los Alamos, were able to create and detonate “The Gadget”, “Little Boy” and “Fat Man”, the first three nuclear bombs. Although I’m no fan of nuclear weapons, war or other human atrocities, I find the ingenuity, determination and spirit of the men and women who worked on this project to be very inspiring. 

The National Park Service recently established the Manhattan Project National Historical Park.

Established in 2015, the Manhattan Project National Historical Park preserves and interprets the nationally significant historic sites, stories, and legacies associated with the top-secret race to develop atomic weapons during World War II. —USNPS

Many of the sites in the park aren’t open to the public yet, but I believe there are guided tours for some of them. 

The real gem of this area though, and reason it was chosen, is the surrounding mountains, canyons and mesas of this remote area of northern New Mexico. The abundant scenery and peace and quiet in the Santa Fe National Forest creates a serene atmosphere, perfect for hiking and running.  

Jemez Mountains as seen from town

This was my 10th time running this race with an equal amount of varied experiences to include altitude sickness, weather related adventures and much pain and suffering resulting in five 50 mile finishes, three 50K finishes and a couple DNFs. Ten years ago when I was here, a freak snow storm closed the course midway through the race. Some runners were caught off guard, especially near the 10,400’ summit, leading to hypothermia so race officials are very strict about requiring runners to carry mandatory rain gear, hat and gloves. The Jemez mountains are remote and threatening weather can pop up at any time of the year.

Read my post: Running Adventure Gone Wrong

Text alert system

I had planned on carrying my lightweight rain shell and an extra thermal layer in my hydration vest, however the weather was calling for rain showers and afternoon thunderstorms with a high (in town) of around mid 50s. At the last minute, I opted to wear a heavier lined rain jacket that I would tie around my waist since it was too big to fit into my pack. 

Well, we started the race from the Los Alamos Sheriff’s Posse Shack, on a cool foggy morning with no precipitation. However, within the first mile it started to spit rain mixed with sleet so I put on my rain jacket and zipped up. I had a lot of energy and kept up a good pace with a train of runners in front and behind me. The beginning of the course descends into a canyon between several mesas as Los Alamos was built on the slope of a super volcano with alluvial fans flanking the east side. The accordion-like folds of the fan create flat-top mesas with steep rocky cliffs into narrow canyons below; perfect terrain for hiding a top secret project.

Valle Caldera, alluvial fans and Los Alamos

We ran on smooth packed dirt trails lined with tall pine trees and passed by high pock marked cliffs before picking up the Guaje Ridge. The temperature dropped the higher I climbed and a mix of rain, sleet and snow fell, off and on. I pulled out my trekking poles and kept a steady fast hike up the mountain where half burned trees were shrouded in a misty fog. The trail took many short twists and turns switch-backing up the ridge. 

After about 10 miles or so, my energy began to wane so I ate a small part of a sandwich and a few mandarins. Soon I became very drowsy and negative thoughts about completing the race entered my mind. The weather was very poor at this point and my hands were cold and numb from taking my gloves off to eat. The altitude was affecting me as well, because I was climbing up to around 9700’. I tried my best to simply focus on the present moment instead of worrying about the misery that may come later in the day. 

I reached the high point of the trail where I turned right onto a mostly descending forest road. Thick fog hindered my visibility and snow and ice were accumulating on the ground. I folded up my poles and attached them to my vest, and I started running down trying not to slip on an icy rock or patch if snow. I arrived at the Pipeline aid station where volunteers had a small wood stove burning to keep warm. I forced myself to eat an oatmeal bar even though I had difficulty opening the wrapper for my freezing fingers. Once my water bottles were filled, I took off down the road. The next stretch was mostly downhill or flat so I tried to run as fast as I could to make up lost time from the morning’s climb. My mood picked up somewhat on this part. 

Running into Pipeline aid station:

 

I made it into the ski lodge aid station which is almost half way, but sits at 9200’. Again, I forced myself to eat a few mandarins to fuel my system for the big climb ahead. In no time, I was out of there and followed orange flagging across the ski slopes picking up a trail that went straight up a black diamond ski slope. The climb was tough, but my adrenaline was high and I got a second wind. It was still slow going though, and a few faster folks passed me. The route was a mixture of tufts of grass, mud, rocks and small snow fields. I slowly counted my steps as I climbed, stopping after about 10 counts to rest for 5-10 depending on the steepness of the moment. 

The mounds of snow and muddy spots were slippery and difficult to negotiate without sliding partway back down the slope. My lungs were working overtime in the thin air and my heart was pounding quickly. I took my time, not focusing on anything except each foot moving higher up the mountain. I reached a dirt road and followed the flagging right for a short distance and then turned left continuing up another steep and treacherous trail. Finally I made it to the top and walked for a while to let my heart and lungs recover from the taxing effort. In all, it took me one full hour to cover one mile from the ski lodge to the Pajarito Summit at 10,400’! There wasn’t much of a view, but the sun was trying its best to filter through the fog. The snow covered trail weaved through tall ponderosa pines, then over tufts of tall grass protruding through large rocks.

Pajarito summit

Before long I was heading down towards town on a narrow trail through Pajarito Canyon. It felt good to finally run again, but I had a hard time restraining my speed because of the steepness of the path. Plenty of rocks were underfoot to keep me alert and there were many sharp turns and switchbacks to negotiate. I stumbled several times on the way down, but managed to stay upright. The weather seemed to be clearing up and I considered taking off my jacket, but then the sky would turn dark again. I caught a couple of runners that had passed me earlier on the climb. I seem to be faster on the downhills; that’s where I usually pass other runners.

50K Course Flyover:

 

It was a long trek down, but I made it to the Camp May Rd aid station at around mile 21.5 to fill up my water bottles. As soon as I left, I heard loud cracks of thunder overhead; large drops of rain began to fall and the temperature dropped quickly. Nothing to do, but keep running, so I pulled on my hood. Soon I came to one of my least favorites parts of this course. Just before entering Los Alamos National Lab land (NO PHOTOGRAPHY!), there is a short but very steep slippery sandstone descent. I usually pull out my poles for this section, but was feeling too lazy. Instead, I opted to butt scooting down parts of this treacherous trail. 

Yep!

I crossed a road and then all hell broke loose, or should I say hail! “The sky is falling, the sky is falling!” The heavens opened up, dumping pea sized ice that bounced loudly off my rain hood. Did you know hail hurts!  On each flash of lighting I covered my ears with my gloves before the claps of thunder came. This storm was right on top of us!

I ran a narrow deep path full of water and ice which soaked my shoes. I crossed another road and ran under power lines while flashes of lightning were quickly followed by thunderous booms. I ran down an eroded hill, that was more like a muddy stream, anticipating the moment when the power lines might come crashing down on top of me. I was not in a good place, but just kept running.

Pretty soon I reached another dreaded cliff-like descent to the city ice rink where the next aid station was located. Narrow steep switchbacks are risky enough, but now they were covered in an inch or more of ice. If you slip off the trail here, you’re going down in a very bad way. I approached cautiously letting another runner go in front of me. I thought to myself, let him test out the waters first; see if he goes ass-over-teakettle! He seemed to have made it OK and he didn’t have poles but nevertheless, I took my sweet time going down.

I made it to the Ice Rink aid (mi 25) where some volunteers were sheltering in the back of a box trailer. I tried to pull one of my collapsible water bottles out of my vest pocket, but my fingers were numb and practically useless. A kind volunteer offered to grab it for me and filled it up so I could be on my way. I thought about dropping out of the race at this point, but realized that I would have to stand around in cold wet clothes waiting for a ride, which is a recipe for hypothermia. 

I took these in town the day after.

Anyway, with no time to lose, I took off and reached a hail covered highway that passes through a narrow canyon. An SUV drove past creating deep ruts in the slush. I plodded through to the other side and climbed a series of switchbacks leading up another steep cliff-like face. Surprisingly, the trail wasn’t too slippery because the ice was very wet and slushy, but the steepness took it out of me. I was really ready for this race to be over, but I still had another seven miles to cover.

The rain and hail stopped, but I became chilled whenever the sky darkened and the wind picked up. I had a dry expedition weight thermal shirt in my pack just in case, but I didn’t want to stop to put it on. I figured as long as I kept running, the effort would keep me warm enough. The route was hard to follow now, because it traverses snow covered slabs of rock; I mostly followed runners’ footprints while watching for course markings. Several times my foot sunk down into ankle deep puddles re-soaking my socks and shoes. It didn’t matter at this point, I was drenched to the bone.

My progress was slow, but I eventually made to the last aid station that looked like a tornado had struck. The shelters were blown down and a volunteer was on the phone tracking the location of runners who may have dropped out of the race. He asked if I was going to continue on and I said, “yes, all I want to do now is blast home!” He filled up my water bottles and sent me on my way. The last four miles weren't too bad; there was quite a bit of downhill and flats to run, but the mud and slush made the footing dicey in spots. I was really beat after a rough day in the mountains and longed for a hot shower and dry clothes. 

Mitchell Aid before and after (photo: JMTR)

Race text alert system

Eventually, I rolled into the finish line looking like a drowned sewer rat in just under 11 hours; 30 minutes slower than last year, but happy all the same. It was one heck of a tough day, but they can’t all be blissful. “No mud, no lotus.” You cannot have one without the other; you have to take the bad with the good. It all evens out in the end. Sadly, I didn’t take many pictures because my hands were numb. As I write these words a week later, the feeling has returned to my left hand, but the tips of my fingers on my right are still a a bit numb.

Jemez finishers' award

The race officials did a great job tracking runners and ensuring everyone’s safety. Some 50 mile runners were diverted from their longer course because of the storm and many runners dropped out to prevent hypothermia. Others were driven by volunteers to a nearby house to shelter, recover and warm up. 

“What an adventure, but amazing support from kind people, volunteers, friends in the wilderness medicine community and complete strangers, who opened their homes to a dozen shivering runners.” —Adam Delu

Read more here: Runner Describes How Severe Weather Affected 2024 Jemez Mountain Trail Run Events Saturday

Indian paintbrush

It was another wild running adventure that I’ll never forget. Thanks to all the volunteers and race staff who sacrificed their comfort; enduring the cold and icy weather to support the runners.

See you on the trail. 

Franklin Mountains 55K Trail Run

I ran the Franklin Mountains 55K Trail Run this past weekend in the state park in El Paso, TX put on by Human Potential Running Series. It had been several years since I ran this course which circumambulates the Franklin Mountain Range with a climb to the highest point —N. Franklin Peak (elev. 7192’). The trail is rugged and gnarly with plenty of rocks to keep you on your toes (literally). The route is lined with jagged, prickly and pointy vegetation, but at least the rattlesnakes are mostly dormant this time of year…MOSTLY. The course winds up and down many steep hills, with some narrow trails with precipitous drop-offs. In other words, my main goal in attempting this race is simply to, NOT DIE!

I took this pic of a mostly dormant rattlesnake by the wildlife underpass a few years ago

I have an advantage running here, in one of the largest urban wilderness parks in the US, because I train here in the Franklins almost everyday and have finished the 100K three times which is two laps around this ridiculously difficult course!  This run should have felt like a stroll in the park, but it was far from it. I studied the course map since the direction and order of trails was a bit different than I had done in the past and I didn’t want to screw up and get lost. 

Mt Taylor 50K

 Recently I ran the Mt Taylor 50K in Grants, NM, which was my fourth finish on this sacred mountain that tops out at 11,300'. If you know me, then you understand that mountains, forests, deserts and rivers are my church. You could also call it your synagogue, mosque, temple or simply your happy place; It doesn't matter. Mt Taylor, known as Tsoodził (Turquoise Mountain) to the Navajo is one of four sacred mountains that mark the boundary of their nation. 

According to author, Tony Hillerman's version of Navajo mythology:

First Man buried turquoise in this range, hence its symbolic blue color... the chief of the Enemy Gods, Yé'iitsoh, once resided in this peak. When the Twin War Gods (Born for Water and Monster Slayer, sons of Changing Woman) killed Yé'iitsoh, his blood spilled down the slopes and hardened into the lava flows of El Malpais in the area surrounding Grants. The mountain features as a central and meaningful location for Blessingway and Enemyway ceremonies.

Cloudcroft Ultra Trail Run 53K 2023

This summer, I ran several times in Cloudcroft, NM including the 53K trail race. The heat was unbearable in El Paso, TX this year, so I went up to the Sacramento Mountains in New Mexico to camp, train and relax in the Lincoln National Forest. The elevation is between 8-9 thousand feet and can be 40 degrees cooler than on the desert floor. 

Elk

I did a 25 mile training run in June on some parts of the race course which is mostly on the Rim trail. I combined the Rim trail and Westside Rd (Forest Rd 90) by descending Heart Attack Canyon (T235) and ascending Alamo Peak Trail (T109) to simulate the steep climb that I would experience on race day.

Jemez Mountain Trail 50K

I ran the Jemez Mountain Trail 50K in Los Alamos, NM this past weekend, which is one of my favorite races. I keep coming back year after year to enjoy the beauty of the land and to test my mettle under the always challenging conditions. The terrain is tough, with short steep climbs in and out of deep canyons as well as a long slow grind topping out at 10,400’ elevation on the Pajarito summit. This event offers 50 mile, 50K and 15 mile courses, with staggered start times, so you can pick the level of misery you would like to experience. This year I chose the intermediate suck level.

Valle Caldera National Preserve on a cler day

This was my 9th attempt. In years past, I’ve completed five 50 milers, one 50K and have had two DNFs, one for runners being halted mid-race for a freak snow storm! I was running down the mountain in heavy cold rain while it was snowing on the peak. When I arrived at the the next aid station at the bottom, they informed us that the race was called off because some runners at the top were suffering from hypothermia and other cold related injuries.

Los Alamos and the Jemez Mountains

Sierra Vista Trail 50K 2023

Earlier this month, I ran the Sierra Vista Trail 50K in the Organ Mountains National Monument in Las Cruces, NM. I’ve run one of their distances from 30K-100K many times in years past. The race is directed by the Southern New Mexico Trail Alliance, a team of volunteers who build and maintain trails here. 

The route skirts the western base of the mountain chain winding through prickly vegetation, numerous rocks and through arroyos and dry washes. The weather was almost perfect; not too hot, but kind of blowy in the afternoon. I was mostly alone on the trail all day and really enjoyed the quiet and solitude. 

I wasn’t too fast or anything since I have been recovering from a bout of plantar fasciitis and some achilles pain, not to mention that I’m old and getting slower each year. In spite of that, I finished in 8:30. I didn’t run much last fall, but was able to scrape through the Franklin Mountains Trail half mary in January. I was signed up for the 50K, but had to drop down since I hadn’t been training very much. 

Anyway, here are some pictures from the race and I have included some links from past Sierra Vista adventures at the bottom. 

Cloudcroft Ultra 53K Trail Run 2022

How can you escape the scorching summer temperatures of the Chihuahuan Desert in Far West Texas? The only way is to go straight up to gain some altitude. Therefore, you could drive a few hours east to Van Horn, TX and pay millions for a 15 minute flight on one of Jeff Bazos’ Blue Origin rocket ships. Or, go the cheaper route and drive a few hours north to the cool pines of the Sacramento Mountains in Cloudcroft, NM (8,675′). The latter has been the preferred method for El Pasoans since the days of the Alamogordo and Sacramento Mountain Railway which reached Cloudcroft in 1900. The Cloud-Climbing rail has since been dismantled, but many sections have been repurposed into hiking trails by Rails-to-Trails Conservancy. This makes Cloudcroft an excellent trail running and hiking destination.

Broad-tailed hummingbird near High Rolls, NM

Last weekend I ran the Cloudcroft Ultra 53K Trail Race put on by the good family that owns High Altitude (your favorite little outdoor store). This is the second year that I ran this low key race which is an out-and-back along the Rim Trail with a lollypop loop, including a brutal climb, I might add, before returning to the village. About 50 of us started at the local park, running the first several miles through town on mostly flat paved and dirt roads and then picked up the Rim Trail once out of the village.

White Sands in the distance

Spiritual Retreat, Grand Canyon R2R2R

… in reality, mistakes are called learning, and the state of no mistake is called nowness. In nowness there is no before or after, no goals, agendas, or fixed direction. Like the meandering river, it twists and turns in accord with circumstances but always knows how to find its way to the great ocean. If you wish to travel like this, you must go alone, not carry any baggage, and trust yourself implicitly…* —Daido Roshi 

These are the words I ponder as I embark on another epic running adventure. It’s around 3 am on a cold morning at the south rim of the Grand Canyon. After spending a restless, shivery night in my tent, I’m about as ready as I’ll ever be. Have I forgotten anything? It’s going to be a long day (and night) and I don’t want to make any mistakes in my steps crossing the grand canyon, TWICE! I take off from the Mather Campground all alone under a dark, star filled sky.

In a couple miles I pick up the S. Kaibab trail where I start the plunge down into the heart of Mother Earth. Strong gusts of wind whip up out the canyon and hit me in the face. I switchback down the canyon wall along many terraces made with cedar planks and flat slabs of rock. My feet kick up a fine talcum-like dust that floats down into the beam of my headlamp as I turn each switchback, obscuring my view. My gaze locks onto the oval of light, where I concentrate solely on the trail. Although I can’t see it, I know there’s a precipitous drop just a few feet away, but I dare not look at it. I don’t want to make any mistakes and end up at the bottom of the canyon, so I remain focused and trust myself. 

Being Time, The Sequel: Sierra Vista Trail 100K

What was your time? That was the question I was most asked after finishing the Sierra Vista Trail 100K two years ago right before the Great Pandemic of 2020 shut everything down. Well, my time was 256,003,967,220 instants, which was about 4,266,732,787 moments. How do I know? Because, a wise old sage has said that there are 6,400,099,180 moments in each day. One moment is equal to 65 instants and there are 60 moments in one finger snap. I wrote about being time in this post following the race in 2020. I ponder what my time might be this year as I embark on another Sierra Vista Trail 100K. What is time anyway?

Robledo Mts

About 15 runners are shivering, here at the start of the race at 6:00am. There will be many more 50K and 1/2 marathon runners on the trail later this morning. I am very grateful for the opportunity to spend the day and evening on this beautiful trail in the Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument in Las Cruces, NM. 

The course is an out-and-back that runs south almost to the Texas border with one short loop at the beginning. Once the runners get under way, I hang back and make sure to pace myself carefully. There’s a chill in the air, but the wind hasn’t picked up yet. This is the windy season in the Desert Southwest with frequent days of blowing dust and red flag warnings.

Franklin Mountains Trail 100K

When you greet an old friend on the trail during these disease ridden times, is it best to do a fist bump, hand shake or high five? We’ll try to answer this as we run the Franklin Mountains 100K today (and night) put on by Trail Racing Over Texas. This race, held in the Franklin Mountains State Park in El Paso, TX, usually welcomes runners with a big dose of weather. Cold, hot or wind, but mostly wind —the West Texas kind. Porta-potty tipping over wind! These mountains  create their own energy, channeling the gusts down their slopes, through the accordion folds of the mountain chain.

Well, after many years, we finally have some good weather for the race today, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be any easier to finish. There’s still the jagged rocks, steep climbs and pointy vegetation to contend with; not to mention the waiting around, shivering at the start line. It’s about 40 degrees as I sit in the dark, but should get up to 75 later with skin burning sun and little humidity.

West Texas wind!

The race starts on the west side of the Franklins with a conga line of people climbing the steep Upper Sunset Ridge, a 1.5 mile shin dagger (lechuguilla) lined trail with broken slabs of rock and grueling high steps. I use my trekking poles to help push myself up the scarp and follow the trail of headlamps snaking their way up the mountain. The downhill parts are equally as tough because the rocks underfoot make running almost impossible. I start with my jacket on but, in no time, I’m hot and sweaty even though it’s still dark and cold. 

Tortugas “A” Mountain 24 Hour Run

So, I did a thing. One I’ve never done before. I ran the Tortugas “A” Mountain 24 hour run in Las Cruces, NM a few weeks ago. I’ve never run a 24 hour race before because most of them are usually run on a track or short loop course. The idea is to run for 24 hours to rack up as many miles as you can. Running on a track for a day and night never really appealed to me, but this race was on a four mile trail around “A” Mountain. Well, I decided to give it a try and since I had recently celebrated my 58th birthday I set a goal to run one mile for each year on the planet. 

Organ Mountains as seen from "A" Mountain

The race was sponsored by the Southern New Mexico Trail Alliance who maintain the trails in this area and also organize the Sierra Vista Trail Runs. This race, however, was run "fat ass" style, “No Fees, No Awards, No Aid, No Wimps”. We started on Friday evening at 6pm going clockwise around the mountain and reversed direction on each completed loop. Runner wrote the time they finished each lap on a board posted at the start/finish area.

Tortugas Mountain as seen from the Organs

Mt Taylor 50K 2021

 The muffled sound of a hundred feet padding the rocky dirt road, a whiff of dust stirred up from the forest floor and the disorienting ovals of light from runners’ headlamps greet me at the beginning of the Mt Taylor 50K in Grants, NM. I carefully scan the road for rocks lest I break my ankle in the first half mile of the race. Mt Taylor (11,306’) or Tsoodził is a sacred mountain to the Navajo and marks the southern boundary of their homeland. According to the website NavajoPeople,

“[Tsoodził ] is important in the Blessing Side ceremonies and the Enemy Side Ceremony. Mount Taylor was once the home of Yé’iitsoh (Chief of the Enemy Gods).
Once the sun is up, sunrays are all around and Mount Taylor is adorned with sunlight.

After thinking about what you want to do for the day, you start to plan your activities…Thoughts such as, “We want to progress,” grow from small plans to large plans and Mount Taylor has the power to satisfy that wish.”

View from Mt Taylor elev. 11,302

My hope is that Mt Taylor will be kind to me today and allow me to progress up her steep slopes and to safely return to the race finish line. I’m barely awake and simply keep my mind focused on the path. I share the trail with about 150 other hearty runners, but I stay in the back of the pack and pace my self. Before long the road becomes steep and I shift into power hike mode to conserve as much energy as possible. I expect my journey to last about 9 hours.

Cloudcroft Ultra 53K

A weird urge came over me one evening and I thought to myself, I wonder if there are any local road races this month. This was really strange, because I haven’t run a road race in years; hadn’t even considered it. So anyway, I jumped on the internet to search for races in New Mexico and West Texas and the first thing that popped up was the Cloudcroft Ultra Trail Race coming up in a few weeks. This race is usually held in May and I had no idea it was moved to August because I have, for the most part, turned off social media, news, TV, etc and have been happily living like a hermit while running in the Franklin Mountains.

Well, I was very excited about this gem, because I had recently done some training runs on the Rim Trail in Cloudcroft, NM to get ready for the Mt Taylor 50K next month. So, here I am at the start of the Cloudcroft 53K in the Sacramento Mountains in Lincoln National Forest. According to the race website, “The Rim Trail was the first U.S. Forest Service Trail in New Mexico to be designated as a National Recreation Trail. It is a combination of old Indian paths, railroad grades, homestead trails and logging routes linked together by newer sections built in the 1960’s and beyond.” The course is an out-and-back between 8000’-9500’ elevation with a lollypop loop. 

Franklin Mountain 50K 2020

While carefully descending a precipitous slope with loose golf ball-sized rocks, my foot suddenly slips from under me. I catch myself with my hand into a prickly pear cactus while also sitting on another cactus! When I regain my bearings and pull my hand out it looks like a pin cushion. There are large thorns protruding from, not only my hand, but also from my calf and shin because my foot slid into another cactus. 10 big thorns are in my palm and several clusters of those little annoying hair like ones in my fingers. Schaeffer Shuffle trail in the Franklin Mountains State Park, El Paso, TX is my least favorite trail especially the steep descents.

 

Franklin Mountains State Park

I started in the dark on the Upper Sunset Trail which begins with a steep ascent on rugged terrain dominated by shin dagger and other pointy vegetation. The footing is rough with rock formations protruding from the ridge like the spikes and frills of a dragon’s back, making it nearly impossible to run. The morning air was somewhat sultry and the effort drenched my shirt with sweat in no time.

Being Time: Sierra Vista Trail 100K

A wise old sage has said that there are 6,400,099,180 moments in each day. One moment is equal to 65 instants and there are 60 moments in one finger snap. So what I wonder is this: how many instants will it take me to run the Sierra Vista Trail 100K? The race is held along the Sierra Vista National Recreation Trail in the Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument in Las Cruces, NM. I train frequently on this trail that runs through the desert and parallel to the Organ Mountains. The trail is about 30 miles long so the course is mostly an out-and-back from Las Cruces to Anthony Gap which is almost to the Texas border.

About 25 of us stand around at the starting area on a cloudy cool morning; perfect weather for running a race. After a few thousand moments, the race director sends us on our way where we make a loop around the monument entrance road to spread out the pack before entering the single track trail. The path is mostly smooth and flat in the beginning, a far cry improvement over the 100K I ran a few weeks ago in the Franklin Mountains that had over 12,000 of elevation gain! I stay in the moment enjoying each instant as time propels me towards the finish line. It’s going to be a long day for sure.

Becoming Mountain, Lone Star 100K

An old buddha has said, "Mountains are mountains and waters are waters."

These words do not say that mountains are mountains; they say that mountains are mountains. Therefore, we should thoroughly study these mountains. When we thoroughly study the mountains, this is the mountain training. Such mountains and waters themselves become wise men and sages. — Eihei Dōgen, Mountains and Waters Sutra 

These are the words that I contemplate as I set off into the Franklin Mountains for the Lone Star Hundred 100K trail race in El Paso, TX. I’m fortunate to have the opportunity to thoroughly study the Franklins over the next 24 hours give or take a few. About 45 of us start off in the dark for this race put on by the good folks at Trail Racing Over Texas. They also offer the distance of 100 miles in addition to a 200 mile and 200K race! 

The morning air is cold and crisp as we begin our arduous journey to the sound of trekking poles clicking on exposed rock where, unbeknownst to most of the runners; right under our feet is a metate in the rock formed by Native Americans grinding mesquite beans or other grains. (Upper Sunset Trail North). 

Train of headlights as runners traverse Upper Sunset