I started getting much more adventurous with my trail running in spring and summer 2020. I like creating loop courses so much that I’ve gotten myself into trouble multiple times by underestimating the distance or elevation gain of a particular route. In late May, I decided to go out for a double (running in the morning and again in the afternoon) as I was trying to add more miles for GVRAT (The Great Virtual Race Across Tennessee). My plan was to connect two local mountain trails to create a loop of approximately 15 miles. The problem was, I had been on only part of one of these trails and did not have a clue just how long the course would be (my app was wildly inaccurate and I failed to double-check the distance before I left). I arrived at the trailhead at 2:30 in the heat of the afternoon and started off on a slight downhill.
As I ran up and down the high ridge trail, a thunderstorm blew up out of nowhere and due to how exposed the trail was I felt my only option was to continue down the trail to get off the ridge. The temperature dropped and rain pelted down, and I hadn’t brought a rain jacket or even a hat. All I had was my running pack, my cell phone, and a few snacks. My phone was out of range, so calling someone for a ride was out of the question.
As I didn’t want to ascend the trail again in the storm and I was completely soaked, I decided my best course of action was to leave the trail and run into the neighboring town. When the forest road met the pavement and I saw mile marker number six (signifying I had six more miles to go before reaching town), and my cell phone died from waterlogging, I started sobbing. I was freezing from the cold, my legs were raw from chafing in the rain, and I didn’t know how (or when) I would be able to contact someone for help. Reaching town was not even a guarantee that I would be able to find a phone or a ride (I am embarrassed to admit that this fiasco occurred during the COVID-19 outbreak). I tried flagging down a few cars but none of them stopped (I honestly do not blame them due to COVID and the fact that there was a known fugitive who was hiding out in the Wenatchee National Forest at the time).
I didn’t see any cars for miles, but mercifully one stopped and rolled down the window.
“Can I borrow your phone?” I asked, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.
“Do you need a ride?”
I tried to refuse, but I was really cold and was running out of options at that point. I dutifully accepted and climbed in the backseat, a bit relieved to find a young girl sitting next to me.
I ended up getting back to my car thanks to the kind strangers who took pity on a dumb trail runner in the rain and lightning storm.
I decided to tell this story even though I’m extremely embarrassed by it because I hope it can help someone to avoid the mistakes I made.
Trail running can make forests seem smaller than they actually are, and if anything goes wrong on the trail it can be many hours before one can reach civilization.
Due to this (and other) scary experiences on the trail, I’ve decided to start carrying extra gear on nearly every trail run, and ESPECIALLY those where I run solo. I always bring:
- A Garmin InReach satellite communicator
- A waterproof first-aid kit
- An emergency blanket
- Bear spray in an accessible pocket
- A water filter
- A jacket
Some other essentials I usually bring are electrolyte tablets, gloves, a backup charger for my phone, extra food, and socks. The list may vary depending on the location, but I have decided that carrying a bit of extra weight is infinitely preferable (to me) than being unprepared in the backcountry.
Here’s to many more adventures and smart decision making!
x
Ultra Slogging 