My day on Propranolol
Trail running has become an addiction for me. If I spot a new mountain trail, I start wondering about how to unlock that puzzle. The climbs, the turns, the forks, all present choices on how to position my body. When I run, I position my feet, knees, and hips in the direction I need to go. The roots and rocks give my runs complexity. Trails offer strength.
In early August, 2016, I decided to tackle a trail I had navigated before but explore it further. I traversed my way up the narrow, wooded trail to Lake Blanche, a popular destination, then found the series of small trails that branch off a grove of white trunked aspens. I made my way around large boulders and small banks of pine trees till I found myself on a gradually ascending trail on a very steep grassy, mountain slope. I know most canyons in the area end in a V with a trail leading over into a neighboring finger canyon.
I had my frog green waterpack around my waist, running food, an extra t-shirt, and determination. As I progressed, the trail was marked by several stacked cairns. Precariously stacked rock cairns signal it is a trail others have traveled on. However the narrow trail, covered in black shale, kept going and going. I couldnāt see a way up and out. 20-30 feet above me were big reddish boulders and half a mile below me stretched a narrow grassy meadow with a small lake snaking down the center. I neared the back of the canyon and began climbing across loose scree (rocks fallen from the boulders above me). The trail seemed to disappear. And scree is not safe to run on. Rock slides and hidden snakes are strong possibilities. My experience helped me to step carefully. But the concentration it takes to pick my way over loose rock is exhausting. The way became impassable. I decided to try to climb up the rock face above me. I needed to see if I could get into the finger canyon to my left.
Boldly, I made my way up the loose rocks to the solid rocks cementing the mountainside. The dark, reddish brown rocks held plenty of crevices and handholds. I have never free climbed a rock face before but figured my trail running skills would transfer to rock climbing. I felt sure I would find a narrow, dirt trail descending into a green meadow on the other side. I grabbed a rock to my left, lifted up my right foot, then grabbed a rock above to my right, and found a foothold with my left foot. I ascended for about 5 meters when a voice in my head said, āhold on tightly, itās really scary up here.ā Glancing down, the loose red rocks seemed to tumble below me into an abyss. My whole body started to shake. My mind raced forward to an image of me falling from the rocks into dead air. I gripped each outcropping more tightly, wedging my body into the shallow crevices in front of me.
āI could climb down,ā I thought. Too dangerous! āI donāt want to die,ā I prayed. āHold me against these rocks,ā I continued. Ā Climb up in zigzag type pattern! Look for the firmest hand and foot holds. After each move I made upwards, I finished by pressing my body closely into the rocks. I started to say aloud in the firmest voice I could find: āI can do this!ā I forced negative voices from my head.
I ambled up another 10 meters to find the bedrock met black shale. My second attempt to grasp the rocks above me resulted in crumbling flat shards that tumbled down below me. My mind slowed; my whole body became tense. I paused to think through the possibilities. Climb up slowly, the last 10 meters or so, and climb safely into the next canyon. I searched for the least splintered shale and kept three points of contact at all times. My sense of preservation kept chanting, āDo not fall.ā I stopped after each movement upwards to take a deep breath and try to force my body from shaking. I kept praying that God would protect me. Gradually, I had the sense come over me that an angel stood behind me, keeping me close to the rock face. A peaceful feeling surrounded me. I gripped the rock another 5 meters or till my head surfaced above the first peak of the jagged rock face closest to me.
I extended my legs in the footholds I had wedged into and peeked over to see the descent on the other side. Shockingly, the other side was steeper than the side I was on. It looked like I was looking over a cliff straight down to a patchwork of lighter and darker green farmland. No way down. My only option was to descend the rock face in reverse, and get back on the trail.
I prayed again, then descended slowly, keeping my left side against the rock face and finding the best hand and foot holds I could. I worked my way further to my right than I had on the ascent. Luckily I found a firm juniper growing out of the boulders. When I reached it, I wedged myself against it to sip my water bottle, chew a few bites of energy blocks, and take a few extra breaths. I continued down, off the boulders onto the loose rocks, then searched for the trail.
Shakily I found the trail and headed back the way I had come. It took me several minutes of running to convince myself I was off the rocks and running safely. I prayed to thank Heavenly Father for his protection and guidance. The couple hours of running to get back to my car were spent thinking about how grateful I was for skill, strength, and prayer. I collapsed with exhaustion after I got home. I now stick just to trail running.











