I just got down from Mosquito Pass. It’s a 13,185 foot pass east of Leadville that you can drive most of the way up. Once the road got too rough for a car, I hiked slowly up the last miles with a fellow from the hostel. Hostel Guy wanted to hike a bit higher than the pass, so I pulled out my down jacket and hunkered down behind some stones. The wind was fierce. There was great cell reception up there, so I called my folks to check in on Asa. He was angling for dessert. Ice cream with sprinkles. Eliot got a call from 13 thousand feet next. It was 102 in San Antonio. He said he felt like he was wearing a down jacket too. Everyone’s voices sounded as if I were sitting at the dining room table next to them. I hope the next couple of days disappear. Enough thin air; it’s time to resume my duties as PB&J maker and Lego picker-upper. (Among others.)
There was a great spaghetti dinner at the hostel tonight. Sitting at the huge dining room table with all the runners (and one hiker) made me feel like I was at my grandmother’s table for Sunday dinner (if all my aunts and uncles and cousins were ultrarunners obsessed with the weekend weather forecast and drop bags). Sadly there was no red wine.
Tomorrow I’ve got a 45 minute run on the trail near Turquoise Lake. No running Thursday, 3 miles Friday, and then 100 Saturday and Sunday. Whoop.