24/7 Blackhawk Flying Solo

Watching a bird hover over my head ~

There's a bluebird on the signpost ~

While a couple hundred of my closest friends were running the BoSho marathon today on the Bonneville Shoreline Trail in the foothills of Salt Lake City, and several others were skiing (likely in the rain) on closing weekend for the resorts, and yet others were either snuggled in their beds or looking for sunshine in the desert to the south, I decided to head up to Jeremy Ranch near Park City and do a route that I've had on my radar for quite some time.

Stormy weather ~

The plan was to get about 20 miles, in preparation for sitting for the better part of a day on an airplane to Germany (I leave tomorrow morning).  Just the thought of sitting on a plane and in airports for 16 hours makes me antsy enough to want to run 20 miles.

I slept in until 9:30 and after drinking a couple of cups of coffee and hugging my two sweet golden dogs (20 miles at once is too much for the fluffies.  I had to leave them at home today.) I headed up the canyon in Frau Holda, my white Subaru.

Muddy buddy ~

A few sprinkles hit the windshield on the drive, but I was hoping that the forecast prediction of "evening rain" would be accurate.  I would be wrong.  The run started out well enough, and the trail was nice and tacky, with only a few mud puddles in the usual spots.  Three miles into it, a guy with his black lab passed me and then turned around and came back saying, "The trail is closed up ahead."  Sure enough, a big green banner with "Trail Closed" blocked the entrance to the next section, and I leisurely walked past it...  this would happen several times along the course of my run, and although I had some misgivings about it and possibly doing damage to the trail, I though to myself that I don't do nearly as much damage as a two-hundred pound guy on a mountain bike (there were many ruts in the trail from bikers) or the deer and moose that had pock-marked the trail with their hooves.

The route, the stats ~

And honestly, the majority of the trail was in very good shape.  Just a few muddy sections, especially the back side of the Flying Dog Trail (the east side), which it looked like someone had ridden up it in a four-wheeler ATV.  Yeah, there were deep tire marks in the trail in that section.

As I neared the top of the Flying Dog section, the trail got quite greasy and I thought to myself how bad the usually-muddy section would be:  likely impassable-muddy.  So I opted for The Preserve Connector Trail, cutting off a couple of miles from my route, but thinking that I was ok with it because now the snow was starting to fly and the wind was a gusty 30mph.

I ran as fast as my little legs would carry me the last three and a half miles to the car.  I thought to myself several times, "I just want to go home, " and "Why do I always get caught in this awful weather?"  But I guess when you spend four hours running around in the mountains in mid-April, you are bound to hit a little bit of weather once in a while.

Post-run warm up ~

I zipped down the canyon in my Subaru and marveled at the amount of rain that was coming down, grateful that I had finished my run when I had.  I stopped at Starbuck's on State Street for a hot cup of Joe and hugged my dogs when I got in the door.  A hot shower and some Stouffer's Lasagna made for a nice evening.  It was a strong run for me, and to tell you the truth, I prefer to run solo.