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. 

The aztec caves

In discussing the map with some friends at the race start, I discovered my first error. We aren’t going to the Aztec Caves, they said. We always climb the steep trail up to the caves and then scramble above them to cut over to Mundy’s Gap which is roughly what the map showed. Anyway, just before the race start, the race director gave the proverbial last minute instructions to the runners, “1. Don’t be a jerk, 2. Don’t die and most importantly, have fun!”, he said. “Any last minute questions?” Well, I decided to ask, “Are we going to the caves?” He said, "No there’s another trail that doesn’t include the scramble section that you’ve done in year’s past.” I was still a bit confused, but knew I would just follow the other runners and course flagging.

Here is a visual of the course. 12 hours of running reduced to 40 seconds: 

After the short briefing, we took off from the pavilion start area and started towards the caves, but instead of the usual trail, we took a new one that I had never been on. Nevertheless, we were still climbing upwards towards the caves. Pretty soon, after much strenuous grinding, I could see runners passing by the first cave. Wait, I thought we weren’t going to the caves! I kept going for a while longer and then saw runners climbing through a dry gully skirting around the higher cave. In no time, I was passing directly in front of the first cave and then went down some high log stairs to pick up the steep gully. I had only gone one mile, and my legs were already burning and my heart thumping like a drum inside my chest. 

Photo from previous race

I guess my definition of going to the caves was different than the others’ definition of going to the caves. Never mind; it’s all good and we still took the high trail, above the caves with precipitous drops where death is virtually imminent. Anyway, I took my time on this part and eventually made it to Mundy’s Gap where I began the steep run down. 

Runners climbing over to Mundy's Gap

I bumped into one of the old timers that frequent this trail and said, “ONLY 34 MORE MILES TO GO!” He chuckled and wished me luck. Then I thought to myself, CRAP! I have 34 more miles to go! I made it down safely and then ran a loop along the Lower Sunset Trail back to the start area (pavilion) where I filled my water bottles. The next part was Schaeffer Shuffle, a steep rocky ridge with high steps of rock. I wasn’t paying attention while climbing up the scarp while using my trekking poles and accidentally stuck my head and arm into a prickly pear cactus that was hanging from above. I had thorns in my hat and sleeves so had to stop to pull them out. I crossed the top of a ridge and negotiated the horribly steep slippery descent while only losing my footing several times with a few minor skids.

The next section was flat and somewhat boring, but I made good time. I ran in and out of several arroyos and dry washes and then reached the West Aid station, around mile 15,  where I filled up again. I was pretty tired so walked up the long dirt road and slogged up the many switchbacks to the Northern Pass. The climb was tough and I could really feel my age, but I just kept putting one foot in front of the other. 

Once at the top, I had a great view of the vast desert floor below spreading out for miles; a long dirt road to nowhere snaking out of view. It was windy, cloudy and chilly up there which made my spirits slump. I ran a curvy trail around Hitt Canyon, where eons of monsoon rains have cut a deep gash through the desert. I ate some snacks and mandarins to try to boost my mood and energy. This trail is deceivingly difficult for reasons unknown to me. This area of the park is extremely remote and you can feel very alone where your mind plays tricks on you; like you’ve entered a wrinkle in spacetime where everything seems to stand still. 

Nevertheless, I eventually reached the base of Newman’s Trail where a new warning sign was recently put in place. “STAY SAFE — STAY ON THE TRAIL” “Potentially Dangerous Munitions May Be Encountered In Off-Trail Areas” Did I mention that I was probably going to die in this race? 

Some areas in the Franklin Mountains were formerly used as Army live fire ranges and UXOs are sometimes found. Mostly in the Castner Range, though, which is SE from this area. Castner Range was designated a national monument last year, by President Biden so we may have some new trails in the future once all the UXOs are cleared. I continued on my way making sure to stay on the trail. My energy level picked up and the climb up Newman’s wasn’t as bad as I had anticipated. I was slowly nearing civilization. 

Northern end of the park where time stands still

I made it to the Bowen Roundhouse aid station at about mile 23 and then ran along a smooth sandy trail to the old tin mines and base of N. Franklin Peak at mile 26. It was late afternoon by this point and the wind had died down and the sun felt welcoming on my body. I was excited to get the climb over with so I pulled out my trekking poles and started the long upward grind. The first part wasn’t too steep and I felt pretty good having caught a second wind. 

In about an hour I reached the turn for the N. Franklin Peak Trail which is an out-and-back segment to the top of the mountain. My legs felt like lead and my heart was working overtime so I had to stop frequently to lean on my poles to catch my breath. I climb this mountain almost every weekend, but not on legs that have gone almost 30 miles! It’s usually a breeze, but not on this day. The last mile was especially taxing, but I was in good company as many others were struggling as well. After much effort, I slogged my way the final steps to the peak, having gone a mere four miles, from bottom to top, in two hours forty five minutes. 

The sun was low in the sky casting its rays on the jagged mountain range outlining the peaks in a silver hue. I tagged the antenna base that sits on the mountaintop and grabbed a summit wrist band to prove I had made it. I enjoyed the view for a few minutes snapping some pictures and then headed back down. 

Going down is equally as slow because the terrain is so rugged. Jagged rocks make the footing precarious and there are plenty of nearly perpendicular rock outcrops that you have to negotiate. Several times my shoe slipped causing a sharp rock to stab the side of my foot. OUCH! By this point, I was out of water and still had several more miles to go before the next aid. 

Approaching the summit

I made it back down and hiked the short climb up to Mundy’s Gap while the sun slipped below the horizon. The next stretch was a real bitch because the trail is steep, narrow and slippery with many game trails crossing the slopes willy-nilly. It was almost dark making it difficult to see the path and course markings. There were runners in front of me with their headlights beaming so I could sort of see which direction to go. I spotted the giant cottonwood tree below, a sentinel who’s been watching over the Cotton Wood Spring here for decades. When it was almost completely dark, I reached the bench under the tree where I stopped to pull out my headlamp. 

Now I could see…sort of. I climbed down some very high log steps where an enormous sun bleached limb; part of the tree actually, had fallen in high winds blocking the route. I had to kneel down to crawl under it and then my 60 year old body had trouble standing back up again. At this point I wasn’t sure which way to go, because there are two ways down and I didn’t bother to watch the race briefing video because I know these trails better than the back of my hand. 

My running buddies, Angel and Isela gettin'er done!

I started down the scree slope towards an old rusty stock tank because my brain said, this is the easier and quicker way down. Wishful thinking! I didn’t see any course flagging though, and became nervous. Of course, I didn’t want to cut the course and get disqualified, so I decided to climb back up to the last pink flagging. Then I saw more markers and realized we had to cross the scree field to High Newman Trail. I don’t like this trail because it’s narrow with a sharp drop-off and lots of rocky tripping hazards where a minor misstep will send you tumbling to the bottom of a jagged rock pile! I especially don’t like this trail in the dark, I do not like it in the rain or on a train, or in the wind or when I’ve sinned. I DO NOT LIKE IT SAM I AM!

I told you I was going to die, right! Well, at least I had my trusty trekking poles; my security blanky to help keep me in an upright position. I traversed the scree slope and climbed up onto the trail and ran for a while. I gingerly negotiated several piles of shifting rocks of every geometric shape, using my poles to keep my balance on the precarious obstacle. Once across, I ran for a while where suddenly my toe caught a protruding rock and hurled me forward where I barely kept myself from tumbling off the edge. After this shock, I took my time, carefully reaching the last aid station at the bottom of the trail. 

Northeast El Paso

I ran on the paved park road, picked up the very technical Upper Sunset Trail and power hiked up a steep rock outcrop lined with pointy shin dagger (lechuguilla). I climbed high stairs of crumbly rocks using my poles to push myself up. At the top, I ran when I could but there isn’t much of a trail here, just a rocky ridge with all manner of rocks to stub your toes on. After over 12 hours of running, I ran the final slope into the finish line. I was exhausted, but still alive. I guess I cheated death once more and had a grand running adventure in the Promised Land to boot! 

The Franklin Mountains Trail Run is a great event that includes a full weekend of runs including the King and Queen of the Mountain on Friday; 50 mile, 55K and 30K on Saturday and the 5K, 10K and Half Marathon on Sunday. Pick your poison carefully and try not to die, OK!

A summer resident, the collared lizard

See You on the trail