High Uintas Backpacking and Kings Peak, 9-2-1995

This trip was part of a project of Buddy and mine to backpack to, and climb, the high points in the western US states. We had started in 1990 with a backpacking trip on the Pacific Crest Trail that finished with a climb of Mt Whitney (CA), the highest point in the lower 48 states. In 1991 we did an ambitious, mostly off trail, traverse of the Beartooth Range including a climb to Granite Peak (MT) (link). In 1992 we split up our trip to climb the two Cascade volcanoes Rainier (WA) and Hood (OR). In 1993, we would go back to the Wind Rivers and climb Gannett Peak (WY), on a loop around the west side of the range (1993 Winds). On the final trip in 1996 we combined a climb of Borah Peak (ID) with a raft trip in Hells Canyon and a short backpack trip in the Sawteeth (Idaho). I would end up doing solo day trips up Elbert (CO) in 1990, Wheeler (NM) in 1992, Humphreys (AZ) in 1992, and finally Boundary (NV) in 1994 to finish the list.

The trip also occurred in a Utah-focused period in my vacations. In 1994 I’d spent a week floating the Green River with Buddy’s group, while earlier in 1995 Jean and I had spent a week exploring Zion (Zion 1995).

Besides being home to Kings Peak, the High Uintas Wilderness covers 456,705 acres, stretches nearly 60 miles east to west, and is the largest wilderness in Utah. The Uinitas aren’t the biggest name in the west, but the range has the huge area, high peaks, extensive alpine zone, and well-developed trail system that make a top tier backpacking destination.

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I flew from Knoxville on TWA to Salt Lake City arriving at 10:15 Mountain Time. Thrifty didn’t have the Corolla I’d reserved, and tried to give me a van. We settled on a four runner for an extra $10/day. I got a room at the Comfort Inn and immediately fell asleep. Buddy arrived about an hour later via the motel shuttle, and never even woke me up.

9-2-95

We made a decently early start, with stops for breakfast, food for the trip, and fuel. We were headed out of town by 10:30. We drove via Kamas for scenery, and a faint chance of getting a shuttle for the whole Highline Trail. But when we stopped at the Ranger Station there we weren’t able to arrange a shuttle.

We got to the East Fork of Blacks Fork Trailhead around 2:30, after some slow driving. We repacked our gear for the trip, and stashed some beer in the creek to cool. Our route would end up being a giant triangle; southeast up Trail 111 to the Highline Trail then a side trip to Kings Peak, the Utah highpoint. Next we would go west along the crest on Trail 25, the Highline Trail, to Dead Horse Lake. There we would climb Wasatch Peak, and return via the East Fork of Black’s Fork via Trail 102. I used a large paper map of the High Uinitas Wilderness for most of my navigating. We also had the local trail guide.

1995 Uintas trip map.

Once underway we followed a good, but steep, trail an hour to tree line, and then hiked another 30 minutes through a developing storm to Bald Mtn. Sketchy weather with rain, wind, and lightning would become a main theme for this trip. With the wind blowing hard, and lots of lightning ahead, we dropped down to Bald Lake, and were glad to find it empty and sheltered.

Buddy on Bald Mountain.

We quickly found a campsite and set up the tent before a brief rainstorm hit. We got a fire going and watched the Uintas clear, while the mountains to the north were still stormy. Walking down to the lake to wash up I realized that though I wasn’t as eager to face the physical work of backpacking, a calm lake, under clear skies, surrounded by snowy peaks will always be part of what draws me to the mountains.

Bald Mountain Lake.

Bald Lake, 5 miles

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We got more rain during the night, but at least our morning was clear. We followed a rough trail from Bald Lake to the east lobe of Bald Mountain, and then to a casual trail above the USFS trail in Smith Fork. One thing we quickly realized about the Uintas was the abundance of the casual trails that were often far easier than the established trails. The official trails were heavily used by horses, and were much eroded with loose rocks, mud, and horseshit. But there is a huge amount of gentle terrain around 11,500’ that has great walking on or off trail.

Buddy by Red Castle.

We reached Smith Fork Pass on the divide by 1:15, and by then the afternoon storms were catching up. We needed to go east, away from our triangle, to position ourselves for a shorter summit trip to Kings Peak, so we decided to cut along contour toward Anderson Pass. Traversing this exposed high country, we were caught by another storm. Our only shelter was behind a giant boulder. Another hiker who had just climbed Kings came in from Anderson Pass to shelter with us. By now we were getting leery of the weather, both because of the lightning, but also because Buddy had lost his raincoat sometime during the morning’s off trail hiking.

Red Castle.

Though we knew our camp was exposed, and another storm was likely to come through, we set up high in Anderson Basin. We got some great views of the west side of Kings Peak with the afternoon sun reflecting off the west face. We’d hiked about 9 ½ hours, including 2 hours of breaks to cover ~11 miles, much of it easy cross country hiking. It was nice to get into camp with some time to relax. We made camp before the time we’d started out the previous day.

Anderson Basin.

Our plan for the next day was to hike to Kings Peak, then return to camp, and move west to Tungsten Lake. We’d originally hoped to be able to hike up the Kings-Emmons Ridge (on the south side) but the weather was too unstable and it was too early in the trip go the longer route. We got another thundershower at 7PM, it seemed like the weather pattern was to have two storms daily.

Anderson Basin, 11 miles

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To climb Kings Peak, we took a good trail with ten switchbacks to Anderson Pass in 50 minutes, then scrambled over stable boulders and a few snowfields for 40 minutes to the summit. There was a plaque and a register on top. The view was a bit of a shock, several of the nearby summits appeared taller than Kings. Buddy and I celebrated with some of Jean’s wheat berry bread. The ridge south to Emmons would have been all boulders. There was no way that we could have done the traverse in a day with full packs. Though there were lots of recent register entries, we had the summit to ourselves. The backpacker we’d shared our boulder with yesterday would turn out to be the only person we’d see for the next few days.

At 13,528’ Kings is high enough for the altitude to be a concern. I was doing OK, with minor queasiness, and occasionally light-headed when I’d stand. Our route would stay high, I doubted we’d drop below 11,000’ until our last day.

We returned to Anderson Basin, broke camp, and headed west on the Highline Trail. Just west of Tungsten Pass, we camped at Tungsten Lake. Despite the name, I saw no signs of any old mines, or likely looking veins. We pulled in just ahead of the afternoon shower, got the tent up, and went over to the lake to wash up. Buddy waded into the lake and dove in, so I did the same. Luckily the lake was shallow, and water not too cold. The rains came in soon after. It had been blustery all day long with a front coming in from the south. The rain brought a little hail and some intense cold. We were pinned down in the tent until dinner time, then blessed with the magic light of evening. I even had the energy for a short walk.

I thought the area would be good for Jean (who had not yet been on her first long trip in the high mountains). The long gentle benches with easy walking would be ideal, and so would the plentiful watered campsites. We still had two loaves of her Swedish rye bread left in the food bag.

Tungsten Lake, 10 miles, Kings Peak, 13,528’

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Our storms from last night never really quit. At 1:30AM the wind blew so hard we went out and restaked the tent and piled more rocks on the packs and stove stored outside. Dawn looked no better, but we were able to break camp and cook breakfast without rain.

All through the day the sky slowly cleared, and it appeared our front may have finally passed through. We set out west on the Highline Trail. By Porcupine Pass we felt confident enough to take a side trip to climb the unnamed, but prominent, 12,800’+ peak on the south side. We nicknamed it Hannah Peak, after Buddy’s daughter. This was fun climb, mostly over boulders, but little loose rock.

On Porcupine Pass.

Once past Porcupine Pass we cruised through a long flat valley past Squaw Pass Lake to Lambert Lake. It was some of the easiest above tree line walking I’d ever done. We had nearly constant views, wind in our faces, and just a few sprinkles of rain. It was too chilly to linger long at lunch, so we were in camp by 2PM. We saw elk as we crossed a long meadow, and heard bugling from the meadow’s edge. We saw some movement, then could spot 8-10, mostly cow, elk through the trees. Most of the high meadows we’d seen were heavily grazed by sheep, and I’d wondered how much wildlife there would be to see. 

Buddy near Porcupine Pass.

At night we got a different show. Instead of furious thunderstorms, we got the frenzied feeding of fish on the lake at dusk. We hoped they’d be feeding on the mosquitos that had plagued us in the few lulls in the winds. Finally, we had some calm, cool, clear air in the evening.

Buddy on the Highline Trail.

Lambert Lake, 10.5 miles, Hannah Peak, 12,800’+

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We had another violent storm overnight. At 3AM there was brilliant lightning and powerful wind, but again with very little rain. A few bolts struck close by, but overall, we felt better sheltered than at Tungsten Lake. 

Lovenia from Red Knob Pass.

Buddy’s large tent was working well to keep us dry. His MSR water filter was working well, and my cookstove was also performing well. From Lambert we had an easy walk to Red Knob Pass, reaching it at noon. With clouds building again, and at least two visible thunderheads, we scrapped our plans to climb Wasatch Peak that day and decided to drop down to Dead Horse Lake. The drop was a lot farther than previous passes, like Anderson, and I was expecting a long trip. But the descent took only 25 minutes, and we reached the lake in 90 minutes. There was a herd of sheep just below the pass. We took a break just before reaching the lake, and through the trees saw a lone horseman, the first person we’d seen for three days. There was another fisherman at the lake, so things were starting to seem civilized. 

Dead Horse Lake.

In the afternoon we walked about an hour west to the divide above Alsop Lake. To our surprise, once on the slope we found a little used, but cairned, route to the pass. Our views into Alsop were spectacular, we even found the start of another route steeply down to Alsop Lake.

Back at the lake Buddy swam, and I washed, before cooking a bug infested dinner. Most of our conversation now centered on getting back to Salt Lake City and eating our remaining food. 

Scramble up Dead Horse Pass.

Dead Horse Lake, 11 miles

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This would be our lazy day. We hiked west over Dead Horse Pass to Continental Lake and returned the same way. The climb to the pass was so steep and eroded that I didn’t know how horses could make it. Along the way we twice had to bypass frozen snowfields. 

Dead Horse Lake from the pass.

The far side of the pass was easier though, we dropped down to a sandstone bench with easy walking. We had the last of Jean’s bread at Continental Lake, then tried to hike further down, but were blocked by boulder talus. We found the remains of what we assumed was a weather balloon, with an illegible paper tag, an orange parachute, an aluminum reel, and a 5” long closed cylinder that we suspected was ballast. We also saw the remains of a spruce tree blasted apart by lightening. 

At Dead Horse Pass.

On our way back from Continental the sky once again clouded up, rushing us over Dead Horse Pass with thunder in the background. Just as I reached the tent to toss in my pack a hailstorm reached us with the attendant thunder and lightning.

Buddy at Red Knob Pass.

After dinner we decided to move camp to give us a better shot at being able to climb Mt Wasatch on our hike out. We camped directly below the switchbacks to Red Knob Pass on a sheep shit covered bench. If we had trusted the weather at all, we’d have tried to camp above the bench.

Red Knob Pass, 7 miles

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We were up early for a chance at Wasatch. It took 50 minutes to reach the pass, where we dropped our packs and headed off trail to the peak. It was rough going to the base of Wasatch, then a little third class scramble to get past some cliffs. Beyond the cliffs it merely boulder hoping to the top, a total of an hour off the trail. I was a little surprised at the start of the climb, we’d expected straightforward boulder hopping, but got some route finding thrown in. We saw few tracks along the route. 

Climbing Mt. Wasatch.

Buddy was able to retrace our route perfectly on the hike back. Most of the Uinta Range was visible from the summit, including the Kings-Emmons ridge and the climbable but “ugly” Lovenia.

Mt. Wasatch Summit.

I was happy we’d made the effort to climb another peak. I was still getting a big rush from peak bagging, and a not often climbed 13’er was extra fun. 

Mt. Wasatch summit view.

Once back to the pass, Buddy took off like a shot. We’d left our target for the night uncertain, but I suspected he badly wanted to make it back to trailhead campground. I could barely follow him down the pass, and across the uppermost valley. Then I lost him at tree line. We were descending Trail 102 to the East Fork of Blacks Fork, which should have been a major trail. At tree line we both lost the trail. There were only a few widely spaced cairns, and no discernable footway. We both ended up along the East Fork, but on opposite banks. After a while I spotted Buddy and got him to cross over, not too long after we found the trail which now well marked. We’d both planned to wait up at the wilderness boundary if we’d remained separated, but luckily we didn’t have to put that plan in place.

Wilderness Boundary sign.

The rest of the hike out was flat and easy, except for a few bogs and a spot where the horse trail from the CG joins the main trail. We saw one moose and four hikers on this lower end. 

Buddy fording.

We made it to the campground near the East Fork Blacks Fork TH and retrieved our well cooled beers. It was too late to drive out, so we camped there. There was only one other group there, but that was enough. I had earplugs, but Buddy did not, and he spent the night listening to high volume country music courtesy of our neighbor. I got the feeling that much of the use of the area was for hunting trips by horse in season. 

Buddy on a collapsed bridge.

Zion Spring Break Trip, 3-18-95

The first long trip Jean and I took together was to Zion National Park over spring break in 1995. I had spent a few days at Zion in 1992, but this would be Jean’s first visit. But she was familiar with the desert southwest hiking from a year that she had spent at Arizona State University. At first we had planned to go to both Zion and Bryce, but the snowy weather put Bryce out of our reach.

Since our visit, Zion has become one of the nation’s most popular parks, and subsequently overcrowding is a serious issue. There are permit requirements for day hikes to Angels Landing, the Narrows, and a shuttle system in place to alleviate overcrowding in Zion Canyon. In 1995 it would have been tough to see this coming. Angels Landing was crowded, but otherwise the park was not. We got two good walk up backpacking permits, did the day hikes we wanted, and even got a room at the lodge at the last minute on a rainy night.

3-17-95

After work, Jean and I flew from Knoxville to Las Vegas, rented a car, and got a room at the La Quinta just off the strip. Except for some noisy guys at the airport, all went smoothly, but it was 1AM by the time we got to bed.

3-18-95

We woke up late and had a decent breakfast at the motel. We stopped off on Tropicana for groceries and fuel. The drive took 3 hours to Zion. We set up the tent (borrowed from our friends Amy and Jeff) in the full campground near the Visitor Center before we hit the first problem of the day. I’d lost our car key while setting up. We searched for 45 minutes before we found another key behind the seat, We never found our original key.

We hiked the nearby two mile Watchman Trail, which I described as “not great”, but at least it gave us a chance to get acclimatized to the area before we set out on the backpack trip we had planned for the next two days. By the time we returned we barely had time to cook before dark and took a well-deserved early bedtime.

Zion CG, Watchman Trail, 2.0 miles

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By the time we cooked breakfast, registered for our backpack trip and packed up, we weren’t ready to hit the trail until 11:15. On the advice of a well-informed ranger we had chosen to hike to the West Rim. Though it now looks like Zion has designated sites, it seems that was not the case in 1995. Our site was probably what is now West Rim #3. The first two miles of the route are used to access the park’s most famous feature at Angel’s Landing, so we had plenty of company here. Much of the trail is blasted into the vertical canyon walls in an engineering feat, I doubt could be replicated in modern time. The last few switchbacks to the Angels Landing junction are called Walters Wiggles and Scout Lookout is at the junction with the side trail to the landing. We decided to leave the side trip for our return trip (no permit needed in those days).

Jean on the West Rim Trail.

Beyond Scout Overlook the crowds thinned. We lost some precious elevation to cross the head of Refrigerator Canyon, pushing our total for the day over 3,000’. Beyond we hit intermittent snow, with a deeper patch just before the trail turned up another section where the trail had been blasted into near vertical wall of cross-bedded Navaho Sandstone. At least these engineered sections had smooth, almost paved footway.

West Rim Spring was flowing well, but most of the West Rim Plateau was covered with snow patches. We passed two good rim-side and trailside campsites before dropping into a shaded, snowy draw which we had to post hole through, no fun at all on tired legs.

Luckily we ran into two guys who told us that the rim, and a good campsite were not too far ahead. The last half mile had really worn us down. We ended up camping just off the trail where it rejoined the rim at a spectacular overlook looking west into the park. This probably near BM 7367 on the topo map. Jean badly wanted to camp at the overlook, but I made sure we put the tent in a sheltered place. It was ideal, we had a good time relaxing, and even a handy snowbank to chill our beer and wine. I shot most of a roll of film just on the sunset. 

Zion Canyon from the West Rim Trail.

West Rim CS, West Ri Trail, 7 miles

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It was a comfy night that didn’t drop below freezing. We were up early for coffee and breakfast and were able to leave the campsite wearing shorts and Tee-shirts. We made good time back down through the snow drifts to the Angels Landing intersection. The West Rim Trail had been awesome, the trail hugs the edge of the cliffs, and there is always something great to see.

West Rim Trail vista.

There we stashed our packs and joined the crowds hiking to Angels Landing. The trail has some fearsome exposure, 1000s foot drops on either side of a narrow sandstone rib. Its steep with lots of chained handrails and carved stone footsteps. Its often just best to put your head down and keep climbing. Not everyone was intimidated, we ran into one five year old on the climb. The views were fantastic, even after seeing much of the same scenery on our climb to the west rim. I’ve never been to another spot as exposed and as isolated.

View from Angels Landing.

Once we got back to our packs, it only took 45 minutes to return down to the trailhead. We had a room at the lodge and so got to sleep in real beds.

Angels Landing from the West Rim Trail.

Zion Lodge, Angels Landing, 8 miles

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For this part of the hike, we met up with Anthony and Helga, friends of ours formally from Knoxville, but now at Utah State. Our hike for the day would be Hidden Canyon. My notes indicate Hidden is not the canyon easily seen from below, but comes into view after working around a large buttress. The trail starts off of the East Rim Trail, then splits off at the first set of switchbacks. Hidden is entered closer to the main canyon. The canyon was really neat, Jean enjoyed the problem solving of getting into the canyon without a trail (we were not yet doing a lot of off trail hiking in the Smokies). The hike was interesting enough to give the feel of hiking in the slot canyons, but crowded enough to a bit noisy and trampled. The trail is still shown unlabeled on the park map, but is closed as of 2023 due to a major rockslide.

With Anthony & Helga in Hidden Canyon.

After the hike Anthony and Helga continued on to Grants, their spring break destination. We set up again at the campground and headed into Springdale’s first store for supplies and hit a café for coffee.

Next we drove to the Gateway for the Zion Narrows for a short pre-dinner hike. The narrows was fantastic, and we probably saw less than a percent of it. We had the gateway to ourselves and walked far enough to feel the level of commitment needed to hike the whole canyon through the river. We’d decided earlier that was too much for us, but a trip at least to Orderville Canyon might be possible.

The afternoon/evening forecast was for rain/snow and the clouds blowing through the canyon finally started dropping a little rain. We ate dinner at the Lodge again. During dinner it began to rain heavily, and we became more reluctant to leave. Afterward we had to sprint to the car through the storm and then thought things over. We went back to the Lodge, and they had a room available! Despite having already paid for our campsite, we stripped it down, and headed back to the same lodge room we’d had the previous night.

Zion Lodge, Hidden Canyon Trail, 5.5 miles.

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For our second backpack trip we again followed the recommendation of the ranger we talked to. He got us a permit for the Right Fork of North Creek, despite the route being officially off trail. The route was described in our off trail guide to the Zion Backcountry, so maybe that gave us a leg up on getting the permit. This area is on the west side of the park off the Kolob Terrace Road, a long, but not complicated drive. The exact camping spot would be up to us to choose. The area still has “at large” camping.

We had no trouble following the route down to North Creek. There was a good user trail at the start and cairns marking a break in the cliff leading down to the creek. We walked upstream to the confluence of the Left and Right forks. The water in the creek was very high so we scouted around to find a spot just downstream. Jean had little creek crossing experience at that point, but she did well. It helped that we’d both found good walking sticks. The walking was easy to pair of old corrals on the north side of the creek, and then got harder with many crossings beyond the corrals. 

Jean in teh Right Fork of North Creek.

Eventually we camped where a flowing creek enters from the south, just before a pool mentioned in the guidebook, at about the 5.5 mile mark. With the high water the pool completely filled the canyon bottom, which was high, narrow and had a half subway shape. We set the tent about 10’ above the stream bottom, safe enough on a clear day. We were too tired to continue on the Double Falls, another mile ahead.

Right Fork of North Creek, 5.5 miles

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Jean didn’t sleep well because of a toothache, so we were up early to hike out by retracing our route. The tooth had bothered her a bit before, but became a serious issue during the night. At some point in the night, she woke me up to ask if I had any aspirin. She says I simply told her yes I did, then rolled over and went back to sleep.

The return hike took about an hour to the corral and 50 minutes to the confluence. We followed high benches where the side canyons entered and made good time. We’d also gotten better at quickly picking our way among the many paths and crossing the creeks. We saw no other hikers on the entire trip.

We were back at the car by 1:30 and drove into Springdale for coffee and aspirin. Our plan was to head up to Bryce, but there was a winter storm forecast for that night. We called Bryce and found out they had too much snow for hiking, but not enough base for skiing. We decided to get a room at Flanagans and watch the storm from our room. 

Zion Snowstorm.

Flanagans, Springdale, 5.5 miles

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We awoke to hear birds chirping and knew we had a blue sky day. Jean had gotten new medicine for her tooth and had curled into a ball to sleep the night away. We kept our room for another night and decided to hike the Petrified Forest (aka the Chinle) Trail. We found the trailhead unmarked, except by a few other cars. The trail is a jeep road to the park boundary, then an interesting desert walk to Huber Wash below Mt Kinesawa. It was a great hike for photos, but I did not take any shots of the petrified trees. 

Angels Landing in snowstorm.

We walked about 20 minutes past Huber Wash, into the Petrified Forest area, which we shared with three other parties. There were plenty of wood chips, plus remains of logs up to 20’ long. The trees were preserved in a bed of bentonite sitting on a buff-gray pebbly conglomerate, in the Triassic Chinle Fm., just above the contact with the Shinarump Conglomerate. On the last mile of the hike out we were pelted with corn snow. As of 2023 Zion NP has no info about the petrified forest in the web information about the Chinle/Southwest desert area.

It was snowing hard when we returned to Springdale. We decided to drive up to the VC when the clouds broke and the light changed There was a light snow cover, shafts of light, and clouds on the towers. I shot nearly a full role of the Watchman from the bridge at the highway junction. We raced back to Flanagans for more film, and shot another whole roll moving from overlook to overlook up Zion Canyon.

Mouth of Zion Narrows in snow.

A Zion Ranger and a local photographer both said they’d never seen light like that in the canyon. We tried to move quickly as the light kept changing and a quick burst of sun would melt all the snow from the trees. By the time we reached the narrows the storm had receded, so we went back to the motel for dinner and packing up. But we came out for one trip to the VC to shoot more pictures. Unfortunately, time hasn’t been good to the slides I took that day. I didn’t begin scanning my old slides until 2021, after my retirement. Most of the colors have faded, and the sharpness has gone, but enough remains to remind me of that special time when the beauty of the canyon outshone itself. 

Zion, Tower of the Virgin.

Flanagans, Springdale, Petrified Forest Trail, 8 miles

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We had time for just a morning hike on the last day of the trip. We chose Emerald Pool, a short hike starting near the Lodge. There was still snow on the trees and we were one of the first parties up the trail. The sign directing us to complete the loop was missing, and we ended up just hiking out and back to the upper pool.

Zion, Emerald Falls Trail.

Afterwards we made a final VC stop to purchase a book for Amy and Jeff as thanks for loaning us their tent. Then we left our winter wonderland for the drive to Vegas and the flight home.  

Zion, near Emerald Pool.

1995 2-25, Smoky Mountain Marathon

My route to running marathons wasn’t one I would recommend to others. I ran three 50 mile trail races (with two barely under the cutoff finishes to show for it) before trying my first marathon. Even that race was unconventional, Leadville’s Mosquito Marathon featured some hefty climbing, including a fourteener and a couple of thirteeners, and took a whopping 7:15 link. Over the prior season work was keeping me very busy, so I hadn’t attempted an ultra the previous year. The upcoming year was looking equally busy, and I would be away in March when the best of the trail races are held. Even so, I'd done some long runs and had almost two years of solid running as a base, so I thought a marathon could be completed. I was still new to the area and was exploring the Smokies on my long runs, getting in some good climbing along with my distance work. But I was unsure if, after running ultras, if I'd taken my preparation too lightly. This would also be my first road race over a half marathon, so I wondered how my knees would hold up. 

The Smoky Mountain Marathon was at that time the Knoxville Track Club’s flagship race. This was back in the days before the Townsend bike paths were built, and the runners raced on the shoulders of the road. 1995 was the 22nd year of the race. The race would continue for a few more years, and then was reduced to a half marathon. In 2005, the KTC debuted the Knoxville Marathon and abandoned the Townsend course.

The Finish Line.

The great thing about running local races is that you can sleep at home and just head out to the race early in the morning. The course would start at the Valley View Hotel in Townsend with a short out and back leg to the park boundary, and then follow TN 73 back toward Knoxville. It then had a longer out and back leg on the Little River Road to a turnaround at the half marathon mark, before returning to the bridge, and then following local roads for the last few miles. 

 I'd planned on running a 10 minute mile pace for a 4:30 time, but did the first mile in 8 minutes, and the next 16 miles all around nine minutes. The course was flat and fast up to that point, but the first 7 or 8 miles along the highway was not too interesting. Few of the runners were talking to each other, but I found one guy who knew a lot about the course, and he gave me a good preview. 

I felt good going into mile 18, but then started having the IT band problems in my left knee that often plagued my racing in those days. We'd been running on the shoulder of the highway, with traffic flow and I could feel the band starting to stretch early in the race. Of course, the inflammation was worse in the hills between 18 and 20 miles, but none of the hills were so long that I had to walk more than 100 yards. There was a loud group at the 20/22 aid station, but with a flatter course and less banked road I began to feel better, and passed some people. I'd not been passed between miles 13 and 18, but was passed a lot between miles 18 and 22. By that time I was also tired, and needed to stretch my hip flexors, but I finally had begged some aspirin to dull the pain from my IT Band. I finished the rest of the race at 11 and 12 minute mile pace and just beat my revised target of 4:15 with a 4:14:34. 

It was a good thing I’d taken the risk of racing when I did. I’d run KTC’s Big South Fork 17 miler later that summer, but otherwise my next long race would have to wait until 1998’s Holiday Lake 50K. 

Some of ultras I’d run to date had been a bit chaotic, so I enjoyed running a well-organized race with good markings, strong aid stations, and a scenic course (at least after mile 8). I could have used some aspirin at an earlier aid station though! Race day weather was perfect and clear all day. I finished the run in tights and a T-shirt. I started with a polypro shirt and polypro gloves, but took those off early in the race.