I like big vert and I cannot lie... Grandeur 10 Mile Loop X2 Uhh! Double-Up Uhh-Uhh! Lap 1: Start at 6:15. Freezing canyon wind. I mean freezing. I haven't been as cold since Henry's Fork last March. First half-mile I had to double face palm. Nobody else on the mountain. Lots of snow but lots of steps from previous hikers. Relaxing pace, knowing I had to do one more (maybe a third?) trip up in a few hours. As usual the canyon breeze cuts out after about 500 feet of climbing. Dependable! Reached the top with no fanfare, no stopping, just dove into the snow going off the East side of the summit. Snow: Deep! Can't touch the bottom. Wearing short socks - cold ankles! Unlike two weeks ago, no ice. Yay. Any fall on this section would actually be a good time. Winter arrived at last - six weeks late. I stopped off to move some product under a tree, could see someone hiking up the steep part of the trail 150 yards below. If he had looked real hard he could have seen me desecrate the wilderness. I didn't care. Gotta move the pile. I must have unwittingly put on my invisibility cloak because when I approached the hiker he did not make eye contact, nor did he reply to my "good morning". Maybe he did see me doing the old world birthing position up under that tree and hates me for it. Run down Church Fork, much better without ice but still a technical snow challenge. Down on Pipeline, ice rules. The run to Rattlesnake over bulletproof ice is not pleasant. Before the descent into Rattlesnake, I stopped to apply some glide over my nethers. Wouldn't it be funny if two women came up the trail to see my tights down and my hand playing pocket pool? Well, first a black lab announced their arrival, then one woman, then another and her pooch. Fortunate I had finished gliding and repackaged everything just mere moments before I could have been mistaken for the Millcreek Flasher. Down Rattlesnake, slowly, over icy trail. I would rather move like an 80 year old than fall and break something...like an 80 year old. Down to the road, canyon temps are always more cool than up on the trails. Three or so miles back to the car, wanting to go home. But first, pancakes at McDonalds. Drive-through, got the stuff, pulled over to chow. What! No pancakes? Freak. I want - no, I need those pancakes. Back through the drive-through. I am not a jerk, I just ask nicely for my pancakes and they magically appear in a bag, handed to me by some purple-haired chick. Cool. Chowtime: Of course the pancakes, but also biscuit, scrambled eggs, hashish browns and half a sausage patty. I call home to see if my wife will help me rationalize coming home and skipping the second lap up. "Do you need me at home?" I ask, hoping she says yes. "Otherwise I'm going up for a second lap." No? Darn. I'm here, I have the time and the energy. I decide to go back up. Lap 2: Canyon breeze: Still freezing, even with sunshine. Damn. I start up again, this time in full glorious winter sunshine. A third of the way up I look down and see a man coming up fast. Oh no, I'm going to look like a pathetic amateur hiker, going so slow. A bit later he approaches near, I get a look at his face. Jared Campbell. We say our greetings as he passes, then as an afterthought I start to ask him something. "Ar"-- But before I can get even a half-syllabel out he is already ten feet past me. Moves fast! He owns the mountain. Mountain owner. He's climbed Grandeur over 1,000 times, literally. I continue on, slowly. Up the 7,000 stairs. My guess is that Jared is going to the top and then coming back the same way. I'll ask him when we pass each other again. Later a man and woman descend past me with their two labs. I give the friendly pooches some pets. It's therapeutic. As I predicted, Jared came trotting back down and this time I managed to querry: Are you Jared? Instantly his glove was off and his hand out to shake. Nice fellow. I continue my slow slog to the summit. At last I arrive for the second time that morning. I climbed 6400 feet since 6:15 AM. No stopping, just continued on, stepped off the East side and down in the steep snow. Screw that summer trail crap. If I am going to get my ankles cold and wet, I'm taking the quickest way down. Same deal down to Church Fork, but slower. Did not see anyone in Church Fork this time. Down on Pipeline, running over bulletproof ice is even more unpleasant the second time. Sun is out. Warm. Me, starting to feel like shyte but must continue on. This is not a walk, or a hike. This is trail running! More women in Rattlesnake. Women look so pretty in Winter. Down to the road, still cool in the canyon. Slightly limping now, wishing I had an R2 unit: "Artoo, that stabilizer's broken loose again. See if you can lock it down. Hang on back there!" (That's a Star Wars reference, people.) On Wasatch Blvd about a mile from the car a paraglider dude swooped above the road, then landed in the school grass field just as I ran by. Looks like he landed in the midst of a bunch of kids who were sledding the hillside. Cool. I love America. Then I ran past some slob carrying a guitar case. I could smell the fried foods he has been eating for years upon years. Ran it in back to the car to complete the second ten mile loop for the Grandeur Double-Up. Uhh! Uhh! (That's a Sir Mix-A-Lot reference, people.) As I arrived at the car park, there is Jared Campbell, looking like he is going back up for another one. I mean his third one because while I ran down Church Fork, he had come down, went back up, then back down, and as I drove away he was going up for his third Grandeur run for the morning. Mountain owner.
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