NEWO/Spirit of the Land Permaculture and Fruit Rescue Projects

Marble Mountain Madness

Wednesday, August 9^th, Shana saves the day

In anticipation for a four-day mountain running weekend, Emily discovered that Shana Light, a member of the Maroon Belles Trail Club, is a Marble resident who works in Carbondale and would thus be an ideal way for us to get to this little mountain village southwest of town. Luckily, Shana was happy to help out a couple of runner bums from Canada and agreed to pick us up at 6:30pm.

Acquainted, packed up and thrilled to be off, Emily and I listened to Shana’s informative guide-like narration as we approached the greater Marble area. We drove through “town” and approached Beaver Lake, where I thought Shana would be happy to finally kick us out of her jeep. But, to our surprise, she generously drove us up Daniels Hill and along the Lead King Basin Rd until the North Lost trailhead. As much as this stretch was out of her way, Emily and I both deducted that Shana was glad to have an excuse to drive up this rough and rocky mountain road with a vehicle fit for the bit. I could nearly feel her grinning from my position in the back seat. Upon arrival, we agreed to meet Monday morning at 6:30am down at Beaver Lake. She handed us two peaches from the Farmer’s Market and wished us a good weekend.  

Soon afterwards we found a campsite on the other side of the creek and began to whip up some chow with gratitude on the mind. Gratitude both for Shana’s generosity and for the incredible opportunity to be together once again in the mountains of Colorado.

Thursday, August 10^th, Crystal Mill and the Lead King Loop

Our plan today was to attempt the loop over Avalanche Pass. We would begin our ascent into the Buckskin Basin at the North Lost trailhead near the campsite. At the first creek crossing littered by avalanche debris, we were faced with a messy challenge in finding a suitable route across. Upon stepping on a wet log stretching across the creek, Emily lost her footing and executed a painful perineum plop and went into an incident-induced shock. The throbbing bruise on the side of her right thigh that grazed an adjacent log would come to plague her gait today. After succeeding across that dreadful bit of the trail, we ended up turning around further up the trail after all. The looming thunderclouds looked too risky for us to continue.

With thick purple gobs of water vapour growing behind us, we ran down back to the trailhead and changed course. We decided to run the Lead King Basin loop instead, an approximately 25km long quad track that leads through the tiny community of Crystal and loops around past the Geneva lake trailhead and back down beside Sheep Mountain and back to the intersection down the road from our campsite. We came to meet many ATVs, a few mountain cyclists and a surprisingly large number of ambitious vehicle owners who took the risk in taking their small pick-ups and crossovers over a pathway that could hardly deserve the title of “road.”

Our first exciting stop was the old Crystal Mill. While watching the waterfall beside the old wooden structure, Emily and I took out one of the Kvikk Lunsj bars I brought from Norway and chomped away on some riverbed rocks. 

After snapping a shot of a mountain outhouse for later delivery to Jamil Coury, the host of a comedic YouTube running news series, we reached the settlement of Crystal (basically a fart in the wind). 

 Our run past Crystal and toward the northeast corner of the loop was accompanied by some thunder and rain, which filled us with steady satisfaction after we turned around earlier that morning instead of pushing on and risking wilderness electrocution. The north side of the loop offered a fantastic view of Snowmass Mountain before we turned to run behind Arkansas Mountain (or Mount Kentucky as Emily liked to call it in her confusion) and then down to the campsite for supper. 

Facing south offered a fantastic view of Treasure Mountain as well (below). 

Before turning in we observed the local bat population dart through the clearing while the anticipation for tomorrow’s attempt began to build.

Friday, August 11^th, Avalanche Pass and the high alpine surprise…

We began our second attempt toward Avalanche Pass at an earlier hour this time. Before setting off we sweetened our morning bowls of porridge with some Vermont maple syrup, courtesy of Independence Run & Hike.

We made it over the creek without incident and felt a sense of security under the clear blue sky. 

Unbeknownst to Emily, I had a special plan in mind for today’s adventure. With Emily’s great-great auntie Hilda's ring tucked away in my running vest pocket, I continued on along the trail in the back secretly picking a bouquet of wildflowers; paintbrushes, blue bells, purple asters, daisies and alpine sunflowers.

Thoughts of creating a quirky, but sincere poem occupied my thoughts as my right pocket filled up with the quickly wilting alpine flowers.

Upon reaching the saddle before the approach to the pass, Emily set me loose to run over to the pass and up the ridge to a snack spot. 

I set down my pack, ate a cookie and ran through the poem one more time while retrieving the ring from the small box stuffed with tissue that hid the surprise-spoiling jingle of stashed jewellery. 

She came huffing up the mid-12,000 foot ridge like I did just minutes before and approached a sweaty, four-eyed young man in running shorts holding out a ring in full poetic recital.

Teary-eyed, she accepted my proposal before the stunning jumble of jutting gems surrounding us. 

Although it may seem a cliché to propose in the mountains, most of the engagements I have heard of take place on mountain peaks. 

I had, however, not yet heard of any proposals set on a mountain PASS. Cliché averted.

Feeling the chill of alpine exposure, we started our descent down the Carbonate Creek trail.

We met some trail maintenance gentlemen on our way down and gave them high-fives. It reminded me of our encounter with some park employees on Snowdon in Wales in May, whom we also thanked in passing. After these two encounters and the reading I had been doing regarding the public lands debate, I felt stoked to seek out more involvement in trail maintenance on the trails of Stoney Creek in Camrose and Spring Lake back home. Although the overgrown nature of a trail gives a sense of wilderness, it is much more enjoyable to run free past the trees without dancing around willow branches and waist-high fallen trees. The encounter also sparked a conversation about “plogging,” a term used to describe running with the mission of plucking pieces of garbage off the trail.   

-       After returning to camp for lunch, we took a stroll down the hill for coffee and ice cream in Marble at “The Hub” and then toured around the old Marble mill site.

We completed the long day on our feet with kedgeree for supper and crawled in for the night.

Saturday, August 12^th, Kentucky/Arkansas Mountain and the 5km Sheep.

Saturday’s adventure took us back up the North Lost Trailhead. Instead of continuing northwest back up Avalanche Pass, we veered northeast toward Arkansas Mountain and came down the Lost Creek trail. 

The Lost Creek trail led us back to the Lead King road, and so we ran down a familiar stretch of road until the trailhead up Sheep Mountain. Emily and I said to ourselves that we would “just” go up Sheep Mountain, speaking as if it would be a 45 minute detour. 

Although the switchbacks seemed to go on for an eternity, the sight of Treasure Mountain’s north side, teaming with cascading creeks, lit up my face instantly. I couldn’t help but stare at the sheer prominence from the ridge down to the Crystal River like a young boy in a candy shop window.  

-       Good food and fun cooking and eating the jiffy pop we brought occupied the evening hours.

Sunday, August 13^th, Reminder to self: packing a lunch in case of getting lost = not a bad idea.

The decision today was whether to attempt finding the trail up Whitehouse Mountain or whether we wanted to attempt the Raspberry Creek Trail loop. The former is a mountain whose trail would lead to the ridge of Treasure Mountain, the incredible triangular prism of rock I gawked at atop Sheep Mountain the day prior. It eventually came down to the trailhead for Raspberry Creek Trail being a more “predictable” find; an irony that soon bit us in the ass.

The map displays a pink dot wherever there lies an important intersection on the trail. On the trail, instead of big pink dots, small wooden signs mark the intersections. The first pink dot marked the point to decide whether to turn left or right around the loop. Pretty important. The second pink dot marked the intersection between the loop trail and the Anthracite Pass trail that came up from the mining road we ran on to reach the trailhead. Pretty important. The third pink dot marked the turning point to veer west up Marble Peak and back around to Raspberry Creek. ABSOLUTELY VITAL. Marked by a wooden sign as expected? Nope.

Being the mindless optimists we both can be at times, we thought that there must be a small wooden sign kickin’ about here somewhere. The map’s just a bit “off” and we’ll find it soon. After about 4 kilometers past the switchbacks near where the pink dot’s wooden sign should have been, we turned around, realizing we were headed for the depth of the wilderness area on the North Anthracite Trail that led through the forests of Colorado for dozens of miles before reaching any settlement or community. It led off the map and into the abyss of our imagination. On our way back, before we would switchback back up to the alpine, we saw the faint hint of a trail and heard the distant trickle of the creek on the map. This must have been it. Holy cow.

-       By this point, we were far past the lunch hour with hunger growing proportionately with fatigue. We agreed to take a Kvikk Lunsj break at the Anthracite Pass trail intersection (the second pink dot). 

We anticipated the sweet, chocolate-covered wafer sticks melting in our mouths. Instead, the chocolate had already melted straight off the wafer bar and spread itself over the entire interior of the packaging. It was an unexpected sort of wafer-fondu. We scraped the hardening chocolate coating off the wrapping with the wafer sticks and quickly resorted to using our fingers. Despite a disgraceful Kvikk Lunsj experience, it perked us up well enough to give a new spring in our steps down the Anthracite trail to the road.

-       We hopped down the trail to the road, periodically taking bites of our apples along the way (an excellent choking hazard, I might add). We reached town, jogged past the local restaurant (Slow Groovin’ BBQ), and heaved our hungry asses back up Daniels Hill to our campsite. What a way to top off a weekend of  adventure!

Monday, August 14^th, the early return. 

I never before realized how truly tricky it is to execute a bowel movement in the dark with only the help of a mediocre headlamp. I suppose it’s because I had never done it before today.

To ensure catching our ride at 6:30am from Beaver Lake, we broke slumber before dawn, packed up the tent and took our coffee to go. The sun slowly revealed the valley’s features as we neared the lake, and by our arrival, our surroundings were fully illuminated, making the experience of leaving even harder. Luckily, we plan to make our return someday. Revenge on the Raspberry Creek loop awaits….

Matt & Em went up the hill to fetch a new adventure.

With tonnes of food and a happy mood, they took the time to venture.

First up North Creek to take a peek

With intentions to find a pass.

But shucks, gosh darn, the thunder came in,

a storm began to amass.

So off we ran around a loop

that took us by some mountains.

We’ll try again tomorrow,

no rain drops we’ll be countin’.

Another sun to throw its rays

comes up to greet us here.

The pass is calling again today

and Matt’s got tricks up his rear…

An aster here, a paintbrush there

amounts to a bouquet so fine.

But the Mrs-to-be takes no notice to thee

The big surprise is mine!

Atop the pass I catch my breath

and fluff the wilting bouquet.

The ring comes out of a tissue-stuffed box

and my knee descends right away.

Hello there me love!

Come hither and hear.

The poetic cheese I have to say

is a question for your ear.

Take these flowers, take my hand.

Dear Emily answer me this.

Do you think you would like to marry me?

And through tears the answer was yes.