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.
Soon the sun begins to rise when we turn onto a side trail which takes us on a flat loop towards a neighborhood where there is an aid station. I’m in the back of the pack by this point and thoroughly enjoy the view of the jagged needles of the towering Organ Mountains. The Organs, resembling the Dolomites of Italy, are unmatched in beauty with their pipe organ like protrusions reaching towards the sky at 5000’ above the desert floor. Organ Needle is the highest at 8980’
My pace is pretty quick since the terrain is smooth and flat. In a few more miles I make it back to the Sierra Vista Trail where 50K runners have now begun their run. I get out of the way because the leaders are flying down the trail. I let a large pack of runners pass as I snap some pictures and then continue on my way.
The trail is rocky here so I have to watch my footing; then I descend a steep trail into an arroyo where I twist through the canyon; immediately climbing back out again. The countryside is dominated by creosote bush, many varieties of cactus, yucca, shin dagger and sotol, a waxy plant with long slender serrated leaves. Upscale homes, boasting fantastic views, dot the hillsides. I pass through a few more aid stations where I forego any food; I have brought all my usual staples in my pack —bacon wrapped dates, boiled potatoes, salami and apples. The trail is mostly downhill now and I really pick up my pace. This is good for the time being, but I will pay for it later. Having done the 50K race several times in the past, I know how much this hill sucks on the return journey.
For now, I try my best to enjoy each moment of 65 instances while taking in the vast view. Pretty soon I reach Peña Blanca, a distinct yellowish rock formation at the base of the main Organ Mountains range. This is the site of Native American rock shelters where researches have excavated several hundred ancient mini corncobs revealing one of the earliest examples of maize cultivation in the Southwest.
 |
| Peña Blanca |
The weather continues to warm and I begin to sweat, but I stay focused on my breathing and the pleasant sound of my feet crunching over the rocks and dirt. Tiny Mexican gold poppies bloom along the trail, a sign that Spring is already here in the Desert Southwest. I turn off the main trail down a dirt road into a trailhead parking area where there is an aid station at mile 12. Only 50 more miles to go! I try not to think about it and just appreciate the time being which is right now; this instant.
 |
| Barrel cactus fruit |
After filling my water bottles, I take off back to the main trail where I continue my journey south. I climb down into a dry wash exiting on the other side; turn a corner and almost step into a big fresh steaming pile of bullshit! Suddenly I grow worried and wonder if I have gone off course and accidentally ended up on the Campaign Trail. This is an election year after all. I think for a minute and remember that, no that can’t be, this is mixed use land operated by the BLM where cattle grazing is permitted. Either that, or congress was out here for a tour of the national monument, but I digress. I continue on a little way and see pink course flagging so know I’m on the correct path.
 |
| Cattle graze in the national monument |
The next prominent feature I come to is the Bishop Cap mountain near Vado, NM. If you travel on I-10 between El Paso and Las Cruces you can see it in the distance. When you start to smell the overwhelming stench of a dairy farm, start looking for the mountain. It’s the pyramid looking one with a very pointy peak. Perched on top is some sort of radio tower and along the base above the trail is a horizontal slot cave. A hungry mountain lion probably lives in there and is just waiting for nightfall and the return of very tired 100K runners; easy prey!
 |
| Looking south towards the Bishop Cap |
 |
| Bishop Cap and the slot cave |
The trail is tricky in a few spots because there are some rock outcrops to negotiate. Beautiful cacti grow along these rocks; one interesting variety has very long white opaque thorns covering green and red skin. I pass a few runners along this stretch and meet many 50K participants who are on their way back to the finish. Soon I reach a large flat overgrazed pasture where I can really open up my stride. I swing into the Vado aid station (mi 18) to hydrate and then hit the worst stretch of the whole race.
I pick up a straight dirt road running underneath some high voltage power lines that seems to go on forever. It undulates up and down like a roller coaster, but isn’t nearly as fun. I can hear a weird hum coming from the lines above, but I’m not sure if it’s from electricity coursing through the wires or from wind whistling over the lines. There are some scenic mesas in the distance, but otherwise it’s a barren desert with shifting sand dunes dotted with scrubby vegetation. In the lower bottoms there are dry washes with deep sand that make it difficult to run. I simply put one foot in front of the other, running when I can, to make my way through. After slogging up and down the road; in and out of the sand, I make a left turn into another wide dry arroyo.
 |
| The long dusty road |
Fortunately this one takes me towards a dirt road that leads to the mountain range and Webb Gap, but not before I sink into the sand for another few million instants. These arroyos turn into raging rivers when rain falls, sweeping everything down in its wake. I contemplate this as I cross the “river” making my way towards the mountain. Soon I’m out of the sand, but continue to struggle as I toil up the hill in a hot dry wind which grows stronger as I ascend. I make it to the mountain, where a new section of trail has been built, finally reaching the pass that takes me over to the east side. Having crossed a “river”, and climbed a mountain all is good just for the time being which reminds me of the words of a13th century zen master.
At the time when, proverbially, a mountain was being climbed and a river was being crossed, an I existed, and it was the time for that particular I. Since such an I existed, time could not abandon it. If time did not have the characteristic of ‘coming and going, being continually in flux’, then the time when this I was ‘climbing atop the mountain’ would have remained forever, eternally comprised of that particular ‘time when’. But, since time retains the characteristic of ‘coming and going, being continually in flux’, there is a flow of ever-present ‘nows’, each comprised of a time when an I exists. And this is what is meant by the phrase ‘just for the time being’. —Dōgen Zenji, Uji (you- shih), Being-Time
 |
| A runner returning from Webb Gap |
I run downhill for a while and reach another aid station at about mile 28. Looking at my watch, I realize that I’m making really good time. If I can keep up this pace I can make it to the halfway point in around 125,354,764,000 instants give or take a few thousand moments. Anyway, the volunteers are very friendly and ask how I’m doing. Being the oldest person out here in the 100K, I know they are probing for signs of dehydration, soiled running shorts, or other ailments that can strike ultramarathoners. Because of this, I’m always cautious not to stumble, slur my speech or forget my name. I guess I passed the test because they let me continue on.
The last stretch is mostly on a dirt road with a few hills. I catch another runner who really seems to be struggling. Perhaps he went out too fast or underestimated the difficulty of the terrain. The Franklin Mountains of El Paso, TX come into view and I know I’m nearing the turnaround point at Anthony’s Gap (Hwy NM404). I walk a few of the uphill parts and finally arrive at the last aid station at mile 32. I have a drop bag here with a little insulated lunchbox with ice and some more food for my return journey. In lieu of sugary gels and sports drinks, I prefer eating real food on my long runs. I chat with the volunteers and a BLM representative while I put on some sunscreen. In a few thousand moments I’m out of there and back on the trail.
The view going this direction (north) is spectacular because you are facing the Organ Mountains with a vast vista of wide open space in the foreground. This area is part of Ft Bliss Army training grounds and White Sands Missile Range where the Bataan Memorial Death March will take place next weekend. I keep a pretty good pace down the dirt road and pass through the aid station at the base of Webb Gap. The wind is really strong here so I waste no time and keep grinding up to the pass.
 |
| The view looking north towards White Sands Missile Range |
I make it back down to the sand trap where the heat is really intense. My mouth is completely dry in spite of drinking plenty of water today. I’m probably low on fluids, but I believe my dry mouth is mostly from sucking the hot windy air. It feels like a convection oven down here in the sandy arroyos, but I just keep plodding along as fast as I can. I try running in the deep sand, but it feels like I’m going nowhere. Like that bad nightmare you have where you’re running as hard as you can while being chased by creepy clowns, but getting nowhere.
 |
| Sandy side wash |
I hike up a few steep hills on rubbery fatigued legs and time seems to come to a standstill. The moments have stopped or perhaps I’m dehydrated and delirious. I see something up ahead though. It appears to be a bald eagle in the middle of the road. Eagles don’t live in the desert though. A mirage? No it’s an oasis in the desert —Mark’s Sandbox. A lone selfless volunteer is here providing water to runners and has his mascot, an eagle statue, to keep him company. Time hasn’t stopped after all.
Mountains are of time: oceans are of time. Were there no time, neither mountains nor oceans could be. Do not think that time does not exist for the mountains and oceans of the present moment. Were time to cease to exist, so would mountains and oceans cease to exist: if time does not become extinct, then mountains and oceans too will not become extinct.
In another few million moments the Bishop Cap comes into view and I’m back at the Vado aid station. The sun is sinking towards the horizon and the day is beginning to cool, a big relief after enduring the heat of the day in a barren desert. The trail is smooth and flat and I still have enough in my legs to run. I drink frequently to catch up on hydration.
 |
| Mark's eagle |
 |
| The flat pasture and Bishop Cap |
My legs begin to throb as I reach the last big hill up to the final aid station, but I keep going even though I’m exhausted and lethargic. I look at my watch and believe I can beat my goal time of 4,266,000,000 moments if I can hold this pace. It’s a race against time!
I keep pushing myself as fast as I can, but I have to walk some uphill sections. I reach the deep arroyo where there is a steep descent so I run down, passing one guy, but suffering all the while. The trail twists around through the canyon and then I have to climb back out. My quads burn, but I put my head down and power hike with all my strength. Soon, I see the lights of the finish tent in the distance and keep pushing, digging deep for every bit of energy I have left and that’s when it hits me! I AM FOR THE TIME BEING!
In short, everything whatsoever that exists in the whole universe is a series of instances of time. Since everything is for the time being, we too are for the time being.
After a long grueling morning, day and night, I finally cross the finish line. My gps watch reads 256,003,967,220 instants, which is 4,266,732,787 moments; a pretty good time for me. It’s so late at night that the finish area is devoid of people and completely quiet and peaceful. I’m greeted by my friends Dan and Peter who organize this race every year. They congratulate me presenting my finisher’s award, a Sierra Vista Trail Runs bandana.
Sierra Vista Trail Runs hosted by Southern New Mexico Trail Alliance is a great annual event that also offers a half marathon, 10K and 5K in addition to the 50K and 100K options. There is plenty of friendly support along the challenging course and no shortage of beautiful scenery.
By the way, If you are wondering why I have been reading a lot of Dōgen lately, it’s because I have been reading a lot of Dōgen lately.
See you on the trail.
No comments:
Post a Comment