Sunday, September 19, 2021

NOBO on the HMW

Last November I sat at Nahmakanta Lake, 74 miles into my first northbound (NOBO) attempt at the Hundred Mile Wilderness (HMW), and decided I had enough.  My pace was slow and no speed records were going to be set but I still had a bit of regret for not finishing the trek to Abol Bridge.  This past Labor Day weekend, I took care of some unfinished business.

The starting line in Monson.

Unlike last November when I was the only one in the Wilderness, this time I would be joining many NOBO thru-hikers nearing the end of their long journeys which is very inspiring.  I loaded my pack with little candy bars and was happy to spread some "trail magic" at every chance.  While wanting to finish in a respectable time, the most important thing to me was to make it to Abol Bridge (the northern terminus of the HMW).  A setback from a knee injury this spring made any expectations for the Fastest Known Time (FKT) very low.

Panda was one of many thru-hikers I would meet.

My sister Regina (trail name "Whispering Pine"), with a little help from "Pa Pine", would crew me from all the typical access points.  After now doing this nearly 3 times, they have the crewing plan down to a science.  An AT thru-hiker herself, Regina was also glad to meet many of this year's NOBO class and made sure they were well fed.  I felt a bit like a celebrity at times as many of the hikers I came upon already knew me after meeting my crew earlier.  I could only shrug my shoulders and try to convince them that they were the ones doing something remarkable.

My first aid stop at Long Pond Stream with Dad.

So how did the run go this time?  I paid little attention to the time during my run but did some analyses after.  I ended up hitting all of my splits to Jo-Mary Road (Mile 58.5) very close to my split times last November.  In fact, my elapsed time leaving Jo-Mary Road was identical to the minute.  This was a bit disheartening because I felt much stronger this time, however my pace stayed the same.  I also experienced a lot of rain during the afternoon and evening of Day 1, making the already difficult footing downright treacherous at times.

Obligatory selfie atop Whitecap Mountain.

I feel like the 15 miles from Jo-Mary Road to Nahmakanta Lake is sort of the crux of the route going NOBO.  This section is where the wheels fell off for me last year.  Although not a difficult section in terms of climbing or descending, it just seems to come at a difficult point where the fatigue can really set in and you're too far from smelling the finish.  Despite not feeling all that great, I ended up doing this section nearly 2 hours faster than I did last year.  This wasn't too surprising since I was moving VERY slow last time before calling it quits.


I made a very quick stop for resupply at the beautiful Nahmakanta Lake and was very excited and reinvigorated to now be moving onto some trail that I had only previously done SOBO back in 2013.  It was also nice to take off from the lake with many thru-hikers getting a late morning start for their day.  They were already well aware of what I was up to after hanging out with Whispering Pine for most of the morning.  A couple of hikers even set the pace for me on the steep climb up Nesuntabunt Mountain.  I couldn't believe how fast they were moving with their heavy packs and over 2000 miles already on their legs!

I came into Pollywog Stream in the hot afternoon sun after running very well through the 8 mile section from Nahmakanta.  Maybe I pushed that section a little too hard because as soon as I sat down for a brief break in the shade I wasn't sure if I could stand back up.  Regina fed me a plate of watermelon, refilled my water bottles, and after about a half hour break (by far my longest pit stop) sent me on my way for the long final 17-mile stretch to Abol Bridge.  Unfortunately, I now knew I would be going into a second night and would not be greeted by the view of Katahdin at the finish, but I was going to finish.  Thirteen minutes before midnight, after a very long 17 miles, I was hugging the guard rail of the bridge and my NOBO adventure was complete!

Last aid stop at Pollywog Stream.

My 37 hours and 45 minutes were even slower than the slow time I expected, but really just a confirmation of how difficult this route is.  Given a smooth gravel surface over the last 17 miles of terrain, I think I could have jogged it in, but instead it took me 8 hours!  I just wasn't capable of moving very fast through the non-stop rock and roots anymore.  All I could think was "how did I run through this section in 3.5 hours going SOBO 8 years ago?".  Now that I have finished both directions, I really think SOBO is the way for me if I want to go for a fast time on the HMW.  Of course, I also look forward to another NOBO passing of the HMW at a much slower pace starting from Georgia in the not too distant future.

My hats off to Barry Howe for lowering the overall FKT to 29 hours and 6 minutes last week on a supported NOBO effort!  Read his report here.

So I leave this trip to Maine with my heart and soul filled again by the HMW.  It was really a perfect long weekend combining this adventure with some well-deserved relaxation at Camp Pine with friends and family.  In a few days I'll see if I left enough in the tank to complete my 3rd Bear 100.  Honestly, after laboring for over 37 hours on the HMW, these Rocky Mountain trails feel smooth as butter.

My splits:

Strava link here

Gaia GPS link here

Wednesday, January 6, 2021


I'm pretty sure I covered more miles and climbed more mountains in 2020 than any other year, however the only number that I logged was 206.  I climbed my favorite local mountain to the top of the Horsetooth Rock 206 times this year.  This was a new personal best and probably more than any human has ever climbed this mountain in one year.

No races for me in 2020.  It's too bad I couldn't have tested my fitness in a race given all the work I put in, but it just didn't work out for me in this year marred by COVID-19.  Instead, I put my focus into completing the Colorado Trail which was by far my highlight of 2020 adventures.

So what's up for 2021?  I'm seriously considering a Nolan's 14 attempt this summer.  I spent a lot of time studying and scouting this line in 2019 and would love to give it a shot this year.  I would also like to make an FKT attempt on the Hundred Mile Wilderness.  I tried a couple of months ago, but didn't really plan or execute very well.  November was not the best time to do it fast.  Finally, I am registered for the Bear 100 in September.  Unfortunately, I lost my spot in Hardrock, leaving me with very mixed emotions about an event that means so much to me.

So despite all the crap that made 2020 the year that it was, I was grateful for another year of good health and mountain adventures.  That's really my primary goal for 2021 as well.

My friend created this great video.  True resilience through this year of 2020.

Wednesday, November 25, 2020

Back to the Wilderness


It had been 7 years since I last completed the entire Hundred Mile Wilderness (HMW) in one push, and never had I attempted it northbound (Monson to Abol Bridge).  With my Fastest Known Time (FKT) over this route being taken down earlier this year, I was excited to give it another shot and see how fast I could do it, and to spend some quality adventure time in my favorite place.

Ready to take off from Monson.

I wasn't really planning on doing this in November, but after postponing an October attempt, and the delayed onset of winter conditions (it was 70 degrees the day I flew into Maine), I decided to go for it.  The temperatures dropped quickly, but weather conditions were still pretty good for the most part.  I did underestimate the difficulty of trail finding, however, with the trail buried in newly fallen leaves.  I always thought the frequency of the white blazes along the Appalachian Trail were a bit too much, but not when you are navigating from blaze to blaze with no trail in sight.

There's a trail in there somewhere.

I first met my crew (Dad and sister Regina) at Long Pond Stream (Mile 14) only 20 minutes behind my projection for FKT pace.  It seemed like we were the only people in the HMW that day.  In fact, other than a deer hunter I ran into near Leeman Brook (3 miles after starting), I would not see another human other than my crew for the rest of my journey.

Crossing Long Pond Stream.  No rope but water was low.

The next section, the Chairback-Barren Range, is the most difficult of the HMW, but also my favorite.  Fewer hardwoods up high also made for fewer leaves and easier navigation.  With sunset just after 4pm, I would be dropping off Chairback Mountain to the crew at KI road (Mile 30) along with the setting sun.  I was excited to see that my Uncle Sam had joined the crew.  My 9 hours from Monson to KI road was the fastest I have ever done those 30 miles, but still a little slower than I was hoping for.

Uncle Sam joins the crew at KI.

Luckily, the icy waters of the Pleasant River stayed below the knees as I forded to the other side and began my biggest climbs over Gulf Hagas, Hay, West, and finally the tallest peak, White Cap, which pops out slightly above treeline at 3644 feet.  The wind was whipping up there with wind chills below zero.  I stopped just long enough for a White Cap summit photo before making the steep descent to Logan Brook and, eventually, my crew below where it was a balmy 20 degrees with no wind.

White Cap summit.  High point of the HMW.

Although short of half-way in terms of distance, the West Branch Ponds Road at Mile 45 felt like well over half-way in terms of effort, with much easier terrain awaiting over the last 55 miles.  I would also be seeing my crew more frequently from this point forward.  The long night had me knocking off the next couple of segments pretty quickly, with some actual extended running.  I would leave my crew at Jo-Mary Road (Mile 59) at 4am and still in darkness.  Now at 20 hours in, almost 3 hours slower than I wanted to be at this point, I knew any speed records were out of reach.  I still wanted to make it to the finish at Abol Bridge, hopefully before the next early sunset, so I could take in the great view of Mount Katahdin from there.  However the wheels would sort of come off for me over the next 15-mile section to Nahmakanta Lake, which would take me a whopping 7 hours.

Lower Jo-Mary Lake just before sunrise.

Mount Katahdin view from shores of Pemadumcook Lake

Reaching my crew at Nahmakanta Lake at 11am (27 hours since leaving Monson), I did a little math in my head and decided I had enough.  I took a ride to Camp Pine, our family camp, and relaxed the rest of the afternoon and weekend, leaving enough in my legs to enjoy some beautiful hikes over the next couple of days.  We ended up getting a pretty good snowfall later that evening, so I was pretty happy to be sitting comfortably in the cabin by the woodstove.

Hiking the Gulf Hagas Rim Trail.

I'm a little disappointed that I still haven't completed the HMW northbound, but I'll hopefully give it another shot next year under better conditions.  I'm still not sure which way is easier, or faster.  Going southbound, like in 2013, I made great time over the easier terrain in the first half and then slogged my way through the more difficult sections later on tired legs.  Going northbound this time, I made pretty quick work of the harder sections early, but had nothing left in my legs when I hit the easier terrain.  The next attempt will be northbound, regardless, since that challenge still remains for me.  I hope for many more adventures in this wilderness that I like to call "home".

My Splits (mileages based on AT Data Book):
Leave Monson Route 15 - 8:00am
Long Pond Stream (Mile 14.1) - in 11:42am-out 11:52am (3:42-3:52)
KI Road (Mile 29.9) - 5:08pm-5:28pm (9:08-9:28)
W Branch Road (Mile 44.7) - 11:06pm-11:20pm (15:06-15:20)
Kokadjo Johnston Pd Road (Mile 51.6) - 1:39am-1:45am (17:39-17:45)
Jo-Mary Road (Mile 58.5) - 3:47am-4:05am (19:47-20:05)
Nahmakanta Lake (Mile 73.7) - 11:15am-DNF (27:15-DNF)

Thursday, October 1, 2020

Colorado Trail

A simple 6 mile hike/jog from Jefferson Creek to Georgia Pass last weekend seemed pretty uneventful.  It was nice to feel the crisp morning air, the aspen leaves starting to turn, and even a few snow flakes when I got on the divide. Fall creeping in on this last weekend of summer.  However, when I hit a particular trail post just above the pass I knew that I had finally stepped foot on every piece of the 560 miles of the Colorado Trail (480 from Denver to Durango, with an additional 80 miles around the Collegiate Peaks West option).

My finish line by Georgia Pass.

Why a finish line somewhere in the middle of Segment 6?  Well it's just one of many stories accumulated over this adventure.  More stories than I can share in a single blog post.  However, when I look up at my Colorado Trail (CT) poster hanging in my living room and pick any point along the trail, I have a memory and a story from wherever my finger lands.

Upon getting home that evening, I immediately submitted my "Colorado Trail Completer's" application.  I look forward to receiving a nice little certificate to hang above my trail poster courtesy of the great volunteers at the Colorado Trail Foundation.  One of the questions on the application was when I started my hike.  I just happened to know the exact date even though it was 11 years ago.  On June 20, 2009, I first stepped foot on this trail on Segment 23 at Carson Saddle in the San Juan Mountains during the San Juan Solstice 50-mile race.  I shared about 12 miles along that stretch above treeline through a summer snowstorm, passing the highest point on CT (13,271 feet), with David Horton.  Dr. Horton just happened to be the first winner of Hardrock, former holder of the Appalachian Trail (AT) and Pacific Coast Trail (PCT) speed records, and the Barkley Marathons course record, all before Fastest Known Times (FKTs) and trail races were "cool".  He was gearing up for a shot at the CT FKT that summer (which unfortunately ended prematurely for him that year), but I was inspired to finish this whole trail myself one day.

2009 San Juan Solstice 50-miler.

It wasn't until a few years ago that I purchased the Colorado Trail Databook and started making note of which pieces of the trail I had done through various races or adventures.  Although I had covered many pieces, especially over the first 4 segments closest to home, there was still a lot of work to do.  So in 2020, I set out with the goal of getting this done.  In the absence of a lot of races due to the pandemic, including Hardrock for a 2nd year in a row, this goal provided me some respite as I spent many weekends exploring new trails, which is always exciting!

Hey look Rob, we found the Colorado Trail!

My many weekends of knocking off another segment in some fashion or another (most often out and back, covering the trail in both directions), eventually got me recognized by some of the thru-hikers.  Some trips had me carrying my bigger pack with shelter for an overnight or two, while other times I went full trail running mode with my running pack and no sleep until I finished my goal for the weekend.  Running out Half Moon Creek Road and Highway 24 to catch a 5am bus in Leadville was one of the hardest things I've ever done, especially after already covering over 60 miles.  I made the bus with 2 minutes to spare.  Another Saturday night found me sitting outside the Twin Lakes General Store with a group of SOBO (southbound) thru-hikers who had to ask me, "Are you a NOBO, SOBO, Yo-Yo, Flip Flopper?", to which my best reply was, "I'm trying to get this done any which way I can".  Gaining my trail name, "Any Which Way", that night made me feel like a part of their community.

A great night's sleep on Twin Lakes!

July flowers near Searle Pass!

Knowing that my approach to finishing the CT in this manner was very inefficient, I made the decision to go NOBO from Durango to Blanks Gulch trailhead on Collegiate East near Salida in one push over the first week of August.  This 250 miles in one week was quite the challenge.  I was packing a bit lighter than most thru-hikers, but averaging 35 miles a day, especially through the San Juan Mountains, was no small task.  I ended up going from Molas Pass to San Luis Pass without stopping (over 60 miles) as I hiked through a full night under a bright moon above treeline.  It was too cold to sleep on the ground and no trees for my hammock shelter, but it still made for one of the most memorable parts of my trip.  The hardest part of this self-supported adventure was carrying enough calories.  I ended up losing 16 pounds in 7 days and had to endure many long, hot stretches without water.  It was great to see my daughter Maddy on Day 7 with my truck at the trailhead and we headed straight to the Salida McDonald's!

Climbing up the Elk Creek Drainage along the Grenadier Range.

Of course, the San Juan Mountain Range threw plenty of weather at me, but more difficult were the hot, dry sections through the Saguache Park.  With little reliable water and temperatures pushing 100 degrees, I was so excited to run into a couple of "trail angels" at Saguache Park Road.  Cathy and Greg were wonderful, providing me plentiful fresh water and great conversation.  Mikaela also stopped at the same time heading the other way as she would go on to set the new self-supported FKT (incredible!).  I left replenished and a bit teary-eyed as Cathy and Greg reminded me so much of my parents

Trail Angels Cathy and Greg.  This is what the CT is all about!

I realized after my week long hike (with occasional running when I was feeling extra spry), that my body actually held together well and I sort of got into a rhythm where I could have kept going for weeks, if only I had some resupply of food, drink, and other goodies.  A single push over the whole trail would be fun if I planned some mail drops to pick up along the way.  Maybe some day?  It was actually a little sad after a day or two of sitting at home wishing I was still on the trail where life seemed so simple.

One meal per day.  Choose wisely.

After finishing Durango to Denver (minus my little 6 miles to Georgia Pass), I decided to complete the Collegiate West option as well.  I had already covered the first segment of CT West from other hikes and pacing Alan at the Leadville 100, which takes you over Hope Pass.  I really enjoyed some great runs/hikes over these sections.  I had been told many times by the thru-hikers how beautiful CT West was, and they were right!  However, I must admit that CT East is beautiful as well.

A little snow left from an early September storm on CT West (and wildfire haze).

There's something special about these long trails.  I was familiar with the sense of community surrounding the Appalachian Trail, but I was pleasantly surprised to see this on the CT as well.  From hiker-friendly towns to "trail magic", I got to experience it all.  I was also happy to meet so many thru-hikers, especially the SOBOs I shared miles with weeks earlier in their adventure, and saw again as they were nearing Durango and the end of their journey when I was headed NOBO.

I'd share more pictures, but you really just need to experience the CT yourself for it's full effect.  Thanks to all who shared miles with me in this long adventure, from my new thru-hiker friends, to Alan and Tara along CT west, and the earlier days with Kristel; and of course David Horton for the inspiration.

Thanks for reading!

"Any Which Way", CT '2020

Thank you Gudy Gaskill!

Tuesday, April 21, 2020

2019 Review

I'm pretty late getting to a review of 2019, when it's April 21, 2020, but I didn't want last year to be forgotten.  Although I didn't complete any ultras in 2019, I did have many cool adventures and climbed a lot of new peaks (including several 14ers).

Of course, the main thing I log each year is my Horsetooth Rock summits, and I got 133 in 2019.  That's my 2nd best total (164 in 2013), but I should have gotten more since I was already at 100 by the end of June.

In my buildup for Hardrock, before it got cancelled, I was able to knock off a lot of crazy local bucket list challenges.  I believe I now have the first and only Round Mountain 6-pack (54 miles, 18,000 feet of vertical) and Crosier Quad (38 miles, 11,000 feet of vertical, adding Sullivan Gulch to the classic "Crosier Triple").  I also completed the Greyrock 6-pack (45 miles, 15,000 feet of vertical), which I don't believe had been done since Pete Stevenson completed the feat in 2011.  I couldn't beat Pete's time, so his OKT ("only known time") is now the FKT ("fastest known time").  The one challenge that is still eluding me, however, is Octarock (106 miles, 22,000 feet of vertical, Quadrock 50 x 2 with 4 Horsetooth Rock and 4 Arthurs Rock summits thrown in).  I gave it a go in late June but got denied at about 70 miles due to hypothermia and flooded trails.  At least it wasn't a blizzard like when I tried a few years ago.  I now have 3 DNFs at Octarock.

Greyrock 6-pack with Jaime

Crosier Quad with Brett

I still visited the San Juan mountains over Hardrock week with my Dad and two of my sisters.  I got to explore a lot of trails and peaks that I have never been on.  The options are just endless out there!  On the day we were supposed to run Hardrock, I joined up with a fun group of old and new friends for an out and back along the course from Silverton to Green Mountain.  Certainly a fun day!

Topping out Green Mountain with my Hardrock friends

Exploring the San Juan Mountains with Regina

August and September had me playing a lot in the Sawatch Range, exploring the Nolan's 14 line and pacing Alan for 50 miles at Leadville (my first time seeing the whole course).  Doing Nolan's self-supported, I learned a lot about gear choices and also realized I need to do it with support to ever come close to the 60-hour "finisher" cutoff.  I might be able to give it a supported shot in 2020.  My plans are to go NOBO (Shavano to Massive) since that's how I've been scouting it.

Following Alan over Hope Pass at the Leadville 100

Following the Nolan's line

Life in the Sawatch.  Fueling up for Princeton on the horizon.

When not travelling down to the Sawatch, I spent plenty of summer time closer to home in RMNP playing in the Mummies (did Mummy Mania twice) and around Longs Peak (3 Longs summits this year).

The Mummies

Longs Peak (14,255 feet, approximately)

I did take on some shorter local trail and road races in 2019, and found to have regained a good bit of my speed.  My longest race was the Lory State Park 12K and my shortest was the Mountain Avenue Mile, where I clocked a 5:39!  I was able to get my road 5K time back under 20 minutes as well.

Mountain Avenue Mile

Finally, in November, I couldn't resist the urge to take on a 100-mile race, so I made a road trip to Alabama for the Blood Rock 100.  I met up with my sister who flew down from Maine and we enjoyed camping in Oak Mountain State Park (the site of the race).  Absolutely beautiful country down there and I loved the rugged, rocky, and steep trails!  The race was challenging, with over 26,000 feet of vertical, and a lot of rain!  I wasn't committed to finishing and pulled out around Mile 60.  However, since the 2nd 50 miles was a repeat of the 1st 50, I still got to experience the whole course.  I was glad I made the trip!

Camping at Oak Mountain State Park

Along the Blood Rock course.  They even installed ropes.

So onward to 2020!  We're certainly experiencing some different times right now, and I don't know if there will be any races to run this year.  I'm in Hardrock (if it happens) and I'm on the waitlist for Bear (if it happens).  Even if all races get cancelled, I still have many trail running/hiking goals that I am excited about and would love to complete this year given the opportunity (Octarock, Nolans, Hills to Sea Trail, Colorado Trail, etc.).  I just appreciate that I can still enjoy my local mountains and trails for the time being.

A recent sunrise from atop Horsetooth Rock

Sunday, August 11, 2019

Mummy Mania and a 40 year old FKT?

The Mummy Range, extending through the northern portion of Rocky Mountain National Park and beyond, has long been my local alpine playground.  After a relaxed traverse of the Mummy Mania (or Mummy Kill) route last weekend with Alan, we discussed the best way to make a loop of it.  It's kind of a pain to have to shuttle between the Chapin Pass and Lawn Lake trailheads to do the standard point-to-point route.  Especially when you leave the keys to your truck parked at Lawn Lake TH in Alan's car at Chapin Pass TH.

Snow holding on the ridge between Ypsilon and Fairchild, the most difficult section of the traverse.

We both came to the agreement that the best loop would be from Lawn Lake TH, and then up the Ypsilon Lake Trail to a point where you could bushwhack and gain Chiquita's east ridge.  And you might as well just skip Chapin since it would no longer be on the way and you more than make up for it with the 5.5 mile and 4500 feet of climbing to get the Chiquita summit.  I couldn't believe it when I saw on the FKT (Fastest Known Times) website that the legend Bill Briggs held the FKT for the exact route we described.  Bill did the loop in "about 9 hours" on July 31, 1979!  I guess I should have informed Bill that I was going to take a shot at his time since I believe he is still screaming down mountains on his skis and hiking trails at the ripe age of 87.

Well I took my shot today despite dark clouds in about all directions at sunrise.  Luckily, the distant thunder stayed distant and, despite the steady rain and occasional hail, I was able to put together the loop.  I know many others who could easily go faster than my time, but I was very satisfied with my 7 hour and 38 minute effort today.

The GPS track (with georeferenced pictures), 19.8 miles with 7605 feet ascent/descent

And for the Strava folks:

My time splits:
0:00  Lawn Lake TH (Start)
0:22  Ypsilon Lake/Lawn Lake Trail junction
1:37  Point 12005 Summit
2:15  Mount Chiquita Summit
2:47  Ypsilon Mountain Summit
4:04  Fairchild Mountain Summit
5:16  Hagues Peak Summit
6:13  Mummy Mountain Summit
6:49  Black Canyon/Lawn Lake Trail junction
7:24  Ypsilon Lake/Lawn Lake Trail junction
7:38  Lawn Lake TH (Finish)

From now on I'm going to call this route "Briggs Loop".

Tuesday, August 6, 2019

Camp Hardrock 2019

The photo above was taken on top of Green Mountain at about 12 miles into what would have been a 100-mile loop around the San Juan Mountains at Hardrock 2019.  Instead, on this day, we turned around here and headed back to Silverton for a 24-mile "fun" run.  Mother Nature may have cancelled the race this year, but she couldn't put a dent in the Hardrock Spirit we all shared on this beautiful day!

I got to give a talk the other day on this record snow year in Colorado.  People usually don't buy my excuse that I climb all these mountains because it's part of my "job".  I'm not only soaking in the beauty, but also observing the alpine hydrologic cycle at work.  Ok, whether you buy it or not, it was one of the most fun and best received talks I have given in quite some time.  It must have been the Hardrock emphasis and all the "eye candy" of the San Juan Mountains.

This year, like in 1995 when Hardrock was last cancelled due to snow, Silverton had a big snow year with 269 inches by June 1.  What made these two years particularly a problem for Hardrock though, was the high amount of snow that came after March 1.  This Spring snow is typically wetter, producing a very high snow water equivalent, or what snow hydrologists like to call "SWE".

When deciding if conditions will be favorable for the Hardrock event to take place each year, the Hardock committee considers several factors, one being the SWE at the Red Mountain Pass SNOTEL station (USDA-NRCS SNOTEL), which sits at 11,200 feet (approximately the average elevation of the Hardrock course).  If SWE is above 23 inches on June 1, then there is potential for dangerously high runoff and streamflows to occur when Summer comes.  On June 1, 2019, the SWE at Red Mountain Pass was 34 inches.

This wasn't the only factor weighing against Hardrock 2019 though.  This snow season saw unprecedented avalanches, leaving avalanche debris across roads and trails still yet to be cleared.  In fact, Grouse Gulch, a critical aid station location on the Hardrock course, was still buried at the time Hardrock was to occur this year.

Photos of several other locations taken on or near the Hardrock course this year compared to past years tell quite the story from lingering snow and ice:

to high streamflow:

but one thing never changes in the San Juans, and that is the spectacular beauty of this mountain range, regardless of the snow levels.

A 360 degree video perspective atop Bridal Peak (because you just don't know which direction to take the best picture):

See you next year Hardrock!  Snow or no snow, the Hardrock Spirit will be alive and well!