Part VIII: Grouse Gulch to Sherman

From Grouse Gulch you can see Handies Peak looking down at you. I’ve climbed a ton of 14ers before, many with Melissa (who I had just picked up as a pacer), and I try to tell myself that this is one of the easiest ones. My jedi mind tricks don’t work, and I’m pooped shortly after Melissa and I begin the hike. Not even the rising sun makes me feel any better.

I plod on, taking some rest every now and then. Beautiful scenery, though I’m way too tired to enjoy it. But, as sluggish as I am, everyone else around me seems to be suffering just as much, as nobody passes me and I actually go by a few runners. I keep heading up and before I know it, I’m about to bag Handies.

Hardrock played some cruel tricks on me. And this might have been the worst. The Handies Peak I had been gunning for since I left was not actually Handies Peak, but American-Grouse pass, 13,020 feet. I could now see Handies, and it was a long fucking way away. I was heartbroken! Huge mental mistake, though Melissa kept things in perspective and helped me keep moving. That part of the race isn’t even very steep, but when you look at it from the top of the pass it seems like dozens of miles to the top. Soon, after what seemed like years, we finally got to the summit of Handies. I took a well deserved break to sign the 14er.com log and to pose with some old and new friends.

Coming down Handies actually went pretty well, guess I got a rush of adrenaline knowing I had successfully overcome the highest point of the course. That, combined with the good, runnable, downhill trails coming off Handies allowed me to make up some time. Soon, Melissa and I were at Burrows Park, where just three weeks ago Katie and I had parked for our trek up Redcloud and Sunshine. I told Melissa I had to drop a deuce and went into the porta-shitter, thinking I had fooled her because I didn’t have to go to the bathroom and I planned to grab a quick nap. But she discovered my ruse pretty quickly and was soon pounding at the door telling me to get my lame ass on the road.

We ran down a jeep road for what seemed like forever. Didn’t help any that every half mile we would see a vehicle, and someone would say, “only a half mile to the aid station.” I’m also running here when I hear someone yell, “brownie, you’re a wanker!” It was Heinous Anus of the Durango H3, on his way to Sherman to crew for a runner.

Soon enough Melissa and I roll into Sherman. The longest section of the course is done, and it dawns on me that I’m more than likely going to finish this race. I celebrate by spending way too much time at the aid station, though I do manage to consume a huge amount of calories (the mac & cheese had bacon in it here – delicious!).

Into Sherman at 11:14AM, out at 11:36AM. 71.8 miles down.