ProLine Sports, Nutrition Blog

Day Four Montana

After a restless night of getting used to sleeping in a tent, the cold air (probably in the upper 30's) and the high winds howling throughout the night, it was time to get up and get going on our main hike of the trip. We were up fairly early, probably around 6:30 or 7:00am, and got in some good breakfast. The guys gave me a hard time at first for bringing in some corned beef and hash in tin cans, but once I started frying it up, they thought otherwise, and a couple of them had to have a few bites. I wanted to make plenty sure I was full for the day.

Ole Lake during sunrise

We got out on our hike not too long after that with just our day packs filled with some extra clothes should the weather change. The hike to our creek crossing to get to the base of 8888 was about 2.5 miles down stream on mostly easy trail walking with a few small hills. Once we got to the point where we needed to cross, it was 400 feet of descending by bushwhacking through some pretty heavy forest and brush.

We picked and chose our way down carefully, running into a dead end here and there. Some parts were too steep and others were just too full of terrain we couldn't pass, but we finally made it to the meadow on the near side of the creek and could look up towards the summit.

Our view up, 8888 is tucked behind out of view

At this point it was decision time for my dad and Gary. Gary knows the area so well and his abilities, and assumed us three younger guys would be similar to him in getting up around 1,000 vertical feet per hour. But my dad with his 2 replaced knees and hip, to go along with a few injuries he picked up along the way in his ankle, wrist, and a few blisters was a different story. So we ended up parting ways, with the three younger guys gunning straight up the gut of the mountain headed towards the summit and Gary and my dad just working their way up as they could, trying to see as much as they could, keeping an eye on us.

Our initial idea was to make our way up an old, dried out drainage then up a scree ramp above a bowl that sat just below a large rib between Brave Dog Mountain and 8888 (Lando Peak). But as we started getting closer, we thought we'd try a different route, one that would make Jake a little more proud and the one he most likely would have taken.

We worked our way up one drainage still flowing then cut over to the dried out one and continued to head straight at the face of a cliff. We had to make our way across some clumpy bear grass which grows out as a puff of grass and is very awkward to walk over. Often times it felt like I would almost roll my ankle or slip back a bit with each step. As we neared the cliff, though, we could see some chutes and crevasses we could slide up through. Chris, Arley and I worked our way through these, taking out time and picking the best route through each one.

We'd stop here and there to hydrate and fuel up, but never for too long so we could get up and down in good time. What's neat about this portion of the park is that some of these peaks start to get some red rocks along their summits. Once we started getting into some of these rocks, it really felt like we were getting close. We came around a shoulder in the mountain blocking our view of 8888 and looked across a large scree field of red rock. Great... But this was easier to work with than bear grass and using all arms and legs to climb through some crevasses.

Arley looking up at our route on the red rocks

Once we got to those red rocks, we moved quick. We got across the scree field and to the last two hard pushes of the ascent. One push took us up straight to a cliff that dropped probably 1,000 feet off the ledge that came out of nowhere that we stopped to look over for a few minutes before making the last push.

Arley and I looking over the cliff

After we took a few minutes there, we moved on to the last push and had a few tricky spots to slide up and actually climb. I was already getting fatigued, so I second guessed myself a couple times, but knew I could do it. I would take a deep breath and push up and over, getting to the next ledge.

Once the three of us were above the last ledge, I just put my head down and kept moving, knowing that the summit was just above us. I took a few more strides and could finally see the summit tower. It nearly took my breath away.

 

Arley and I making the final ascent.

I had made it. With the help of my fellow hikers, I had made it to the peak of the mountain that took my brother's life. I didn't really know what to think. It was a complete mixed bag of emotions. I was so happy to be there, but had so many emotions rushing through my system, I couldn't make sense of it all. One second I would be happy, the next absolutely mortified.

 

We spent about an hour on top of the summit, looking around and taking it all in. Gary had made a summit register box out of stainless steel for us to carry up with the register in it. We took our turns writing in it, and I left my patch I have for Jake in there as well. There was another glass container that had notes for Jake from another hiker who was up there previously. He was one of his friends and left a PBR stashed up top for 'A Rigby', so I took the opportunity and drank it. It was very refreshing. So Charlie, thanks man!

I knew the area where my brother fell, and I started to work my way over towards it, but I stopped. I couldn't get myself to walk any further. My emotions were weighing so heavily that I thought my legs might drop out from under me. However Chris did make is way over and got a good look. I'm glad one of us did. Maybe someday I will, but I couldn't quite do it.

 

The summit and statue

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A look at the first two peaks on Jake's hike (Sheep and Bravedog)

It really is 8,888ft

After we said our last silent words to Jake up there, we packed up and began working our way back down. We decided to hit the scree ramp on the way down and ski down it. Our legs were still in pretty good working order, so the first 1,000 feet we knocked out quick. However we needed to work our way along the face of the mountain a bit which took some time. Again walking across some loose scree and bear grass.

We finally got back down to the drainage, and my legs were shot. Each step was painful. I wasn't sure how much longer I could go, but I knew I had to make it back to camp. I could feel my blister building in my heel.

I was able to muster up everything I had to finish the descent to the creek, and the ice cold water was a welcome wakeup call for my body. We crossed the creek and looked for our way back up the 400 feet through the brush. Fortunately for us, Chris had spotted an open area with some large rocks that looked to be easier to traverse than going through the brush, so we headed that way. It turned out to be great! The rocks were steady and easy to maneuver. The last hundred yards or so were through the brush, but not nearly as steep as what we had gone down, so that was a relief.

I had never been so happy to see a trail in my life when we stumbled back on to the Ole Creek Trail. It was such a nice welcome. Though it was getting dark, I couldn't care less. We knew where we were going and we had headlamps and flashlights to get through the woods.

We worked out way back, going rather quickly, but it seemed like the campsite would never come. But finally we saw a glimmer of light in the distance. A nice glowing orange was so welcome. We high tailed it to the fire and threw ourselves down, ready to eat dinner.

My dad and Gary had made some food, as well as some fresh caught fish again. It was about 9:30pm when we rolled in, but that didn't matter to us. We were back and by a warm fire. We all took turns sharing our stories of the day as we ate and had a few beers to relax. Shortly after it was time for bed and another day of backpacking out of the canyon and back to our truck.

I'll leave that story for next time.

-Dave

 

Day Three Montana

After the hike up Elk Mountain, we were a bit tired, but I think we all knew we had tougher roads ahead. We had pushed back our original plan of starting off through Firebrand Pass that day, but the weather conditions forced us to change things around a bit. There were calls for 70mph winds in the canyon and up top, so we knew it wasn't a very good idea to be hiking a summit with that type of wind. So we had to make a decision. Should we start at the same trail head as earlier, and make it a longer, but much easier and less wind hike, but would also have a handful of creek crossings. Or do we bare down and face the wind head on and not have to deal with any real creek crossing? We decided on the latter and I still don't know if that was a good or bad decision.

Our day started fairly early again, but not crack of dawn. We were on the trail before 10am if I remember right after a pretty good drive to make it to the Firebrand Pass trail head right off of Highway 2 in Montana. We could tell there was already some good wind cooking us when we started to unload my dad's truck. There was a threat of rain as well, and as we started to unload, some sleet started coming down on us, so we threw our rain gear on quickly and got moving.

A little less than a mile into the route, we stopped and the sun was out so we took our rain gear off. A few of us were starting to sweat under the waterproof gear. We pushed on for another mile to the first junction through some Aspens and some really pretty, easy trail hiking. This kind of stuff reminds me of the running I do sometimes in Wisconsin at the State Parks, just a few thousand feet higher in elevation.

Between the two younger guys and myself, we took turns at the head, while my brother's boss and my dad took their time to spare energy for the long hike. About 2 miles in we ran across a park worker out for a back country stroll who was actually a former roommate of my brother's. It was excellent to meet him and have a chat while we waited for my dad and Gary. He spoke so highly of my brother, and all the crazy stuff he talked about hiking and wanting to hike. How they had their Glacier Park map pinned on their wall, and would just stare at it sometimes in awe.

We pressed on and stopped for lunch just before we crossed around a bend that would lead us head first into the heavy winds. Just as we started to finish up, the rain looked to be rolling in again, so we geared up and were yet again hit with some sleet.

Once we crossed that threshold into the wind... damn, there was no turning back and no hiding. We were smack in the middle of a small canyon meadow with nowhere to go but up to the pass between to peaks. I tucked my head down and just went at it, trying to not think about the wind as an obstacle, but use it to my advantage as best I could by leaning into it and keeping my feet moving along. I stopped about 20min later and took a rest on about the third switchback and found a nice rock jutting out overlooking the meadow, down on the rest of the crew. I hadn't realized I gained that much ground on them, but it felt good to rest until they caught up. It's tough to hike at someone else's pace, whether it's faster or slower. Your pace is your pace.

Looking back down the open meadow

Finally we reached the last 200 yards to the top of the pass. This was where things started to get tricky. The pass from here on out was full of loose scree, but was leveled out along the actual path, mostly looking like an old game trail. On any other day not carrying a heavy multi-day back and 70 mph gusts, this would have been an easy walk up, but not this day.

Again I just basically dug in and went after it. Not looking back, as I was too afraid of losing my balance and sliding down a few hundred feet and having to start all over again. Not to mention getting cut up all over my legs and hands.

I kept working and finally reached a small rock shelf just below the crest of the pass where the real fury was going on and was able to look back down the trail and make sure everyone else was coming along alright.

Each person was taking their own strides and working hard to get through one of the toughest parts of the trail. At least on this day.

 

 

What 70mph winds do to me

Dad and Gary finishing the scree path

So we stopped at the rock ledge and all had a bite to eat and gave ourselves a few minutes to recoup from the final push up, not really knowing what was lying ahead, just a few steps over the ridge.

We decided to keep moving so we wouldn't get stiff and cold from the hard work and cold mountain air.

Once we made our way over the top of the ridge, things sure did change. I'll jump down to the video below for the example.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Firebrand Pass, 70mph Winds from Dave Rigby on Vimeo.

 

 

As you can see, the winds were pretty brutal. For both young and old. However, once we were over the pass and worked our way down a bit, things got better. They got flatter, and started to feel more like a camping trip as we worked our way towards Ole Lake where we were set to camp for two nights. The total trip in was right around 8 miles. But before I get too far ahead, I have to share a photo looking down from the pass:

 

Jake's Co-worker Arley Leading the way down into the valley

 

At this point we had our first glimpse of what we were facing the next day. While we couldn't figure out exactly which was 8888 at first, each one of those peaks looked so all-encompassing that I wondered what I got myself into.

We finished up the last few miles down through the woods you can see below the path in the above picture to Ole Lake, which is in one of the small breaks of trees. Once we got there, we setup camp rather quick and felt ready to relax before the big day to come.

Arley, my dad and I brought some poles for fishing, and we had heard that the lake is rarely fished and the cutthroat trout are starving, so we gave it a go. Arley had is flyrod, and with is being so windy, didn't have much luck getting the fly more than 10 yards from shore. My dad worked the shore up a little ways from him, while I worked my way over to work a point that looked to have somewhat of a dropoff below it. Lo and behold, second cast I brought in a winner. Then two casts later, another. They sure were starving! I was using a simple bright #1 or #2 spinner, I can't remember the size, but rather small. The fish were small, too, but with not a lot of food or predators, they had no reason to grow, nor the ability. I think between my dad and I, the largest we caught was about 9-10". So we caught enough for each one of us to have two fish a piece for dinner, as the filets from them were so tiny.

After that we just relaxed around the fire, and each one of us took our turn heading off to bed, with the last of us putting out the fire. It was time to rest up for a very serious, very physical, and extremely emotional hike the next day.

I'll follow up with that story very soon, while everything is still so fresh in my mind.

 

-Dave

Day Two Montana

After a long day of traveling, getting in a small run to try to get some altitude adjustments in my system and meeting with the people I'd be hiking with the next 4 days, it was time to rest. My dad and I were staying in some cabins just a few minutes from Glacier National Park, which were very comfortable. We planned our hike the night before over some tri-tip and a few beers. Being a relatively short (but steep) hike, we didn't see a need to get up and out too early.

I woke up around 7am and was ready to get the day started. My dad and I shared breakfast at the cabin of some eggs, toast and I had some chocolate milk and some cereal. Then we got our gear together for the day trip which was about 3.5 miles of hiking, but rising 3,000 vertical feet.

The rest of our crew showed up around 9:30 and we were on our way to the Fielding Trail head. Driving through this area brought back so many memories from last year. This was the hike my oldest brother, my sister and I did. We also passed the open field where they brought in my brother from the mountain in the helicopter. That sight brought back too many terrible memories. At that point I had almost wished I didn't make the trip out. But I knew this would all be worth it.

We got the the trail head, and it wasn't as bad as I had thought it would be. This was where my brother's car was parked, and where his picture was hanging. Without those things being there, I felt a little better, but there were still thoughts along the trail.

We started out, all 5 of us (2 of my brother's co-workers, and a former co-worker/friend, my dad and I) along the Elk Mountain trail. The first mile or so is along an old ATV/horse trail, so it was pretty easy hiking. A few flashbacks came through my mind as we crossed the area where my parents met my brother, sister and I to give us the news that we lost our brother, and I just kept walking on with my head down, not wanting that feeling to live long inside of me. But things got worse a few minutes later.

We got to the old cabin in the woods where the Search and Rescue team was camped at, and I remember seeing my brother's picture there, too, and seeing it torn down after we made the descent. My stomach started turning, so I just kept walking on past it. I couldn't even look at the cabin.

We finally reached the start of the path up to the summit of Elk Mountain. From the start, it's a constant uphill battle. There's no letting up, and it never gets easier. The first half of the trail isn't the prettiest, but the view from the top is worth it. Not even 15 minutes into the trail we turned a corner and saw a bear walking up the trail then drop down into the brush. So we started to talk quite loud and those of us with bear spray, had the triggers ready. The bear seemed small and harmless, probably just scavenging for some berries, as there were plenty around.

The rest of the trail veers through some light wooded areas and a few open meadow passes, again always heading up on a steep degree, so every step is an effort. Finally reaching the last opening, we could see the summit. It was just as I remembered, desolate and cold. Some dead trees and scree are all that line the path up, which is more like a game trail than a path. We reached the last shoulder before the final ascent and grabbed a bite to eat. We had plenty of time, so we took it.

After we were done resting and eating a bit, we took off to the summit, to look out over Ole Creek Canyon and our main goal (the summit of 8888, or Lando Peak). The trail was some slippery scree but nothing terrible, as well as some good gusts coming out of the West and around the peak from the canyon.

We reached the summit and all my memories of being up there last time came back. The things we yelled out over the canyon at my brother, trying to tempt him to come home and making fun of him that were all to no avail. We took our time up top, snapping some photos of the canyon and looking out in awe of the view and learning a few more peaks from the park workers who were our guides and my brother's co-workers. Then we started looking at the possible route up to the summit of 8888 from Ole Creek. Looking for the most direct, but also feasible route that would present the least amount of danger, but not take us way out of our way. We found a snow patch that we could probably work our way under and up a ramp to get to the summit. So we had it in our heads that that would be our route. But things would change, and I'll get to that in another post about the trek to the summit there.

 
 

After we were wrapped up with what we needed, we made out way back down to the car. I would say we did it in nearly half the time, but probably a little over. This was a nice wake up call for the hiking legs, but nothing in comparison for the next 3 days. I'm going to write another post about each day out in the woods as well, to get the best idea and clear vision of what we went through and of what I went through personally.

-Dave

Day One Montana

Some of you know and some may not that just about a year ago I lost my brother in a hiking accident in Glacier National Park. He was doing a long solo hike that was going through some pretty treacherous terrain and at some point he lost his footing most likely and slipped off the cliff.

I'm not here now to relive those memories but I am lucky enough to be out in the park again this year hiking with his co workers and my dad. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to after having acl surgery and my wife and I being blessed with our first child, but some family members have pulled through to help us out and I'm out hiking in the beautiful park. My mom, mother in law and father in law are each taking some time off work to watch our baby while my wife works and I'm out here. I can't thank them enough for helping out.

My first day out here was spent traveling and gearing up. I got into the area in the early afternoon and it was sunny and beautiful. We went through town and stopped at the local coffee shop and a meat market my brother loved. Then it was time to unpack.

After unpacking I had some time to kill before we met up with Jakes's boss for dinner at his place in Whitefish. So I decided to go for a run.

I didn't plan to go far or hard. I don't know the area. I'm jet lagged. And there's an elevation change. Nevertheless is was so refreshing. I got in around 5 miles and headed back in through some of the woods on a small road near our cabin.

Something about running through the clean and fresh mountain air just gave me the chills like I can't explain. It was almost eerie with no cars and running along the cattle and horse ranches. I was caught by a cyclist who gave me a friendly hello, and that was all the human life I saw. Well there was a creepy mannequin in a cabin window, but that doesn't count.

I think being out here puts me somewhat at ease and peace, but brings back up all of those questions I know I'll never have answered. We're doing a 3 day trip that includes the peak he fell from, and I'm really looking forward to feeling what he felt. But I know things won't change.

Hopefully while I'm out here I can answer some of my own questions, but more so, gain even more respect for one of my big brothers.

Dave

Time Crunched

I know I have touched on training in some time crunched circumstances before, but this time around, I'm basing it more off of an everyday occurrence rather than vacations as I had before. However, a lot of the same truths still hold true.

Having recently become a father, I am finally truly realizing what it's like to be a time crunched triathlete. Or endurance athlete in general. The hours in a day never seem like enough. The clock always seems to be your enemy, and sleep is constantly evading you. However, I've started to find the ways that work best, for me at least.

A few things I've come across right away is that no matter how well planned you and your family will be planned, you've got to be ready to toss it all out the window in a storm of chaos. This past weekend I was all set and planned to get up fairly early and put in an hour easy run before heading over to my sister's place to help my brother-in-law put up a retaining wall along their driveway. However, our baby girl had other plans for us that morning. She woke up fairly early, not far off when I planned to be up anyway, but she had slept through most of the night. HOORAY! Right? Well yes and no. It's great when both my wife and I can sleep through the night, getting around 6 hours or so. We're both much happier and more refreshed to start the day. But when the morning comes, the baby is up and ready for action. From both ends. This particular morning my wife needed to pump and I was in charge of feeding since multi-tasking two very complex things is basically impossible. Long story short, our baby ended up spitting up a few times and needed a bath. Adding another 20 minutes onto the morning routine. 20 minutes out of my training.

This is where being able to adapt comes in handy. So instead of going out for a medium length easy run, I switched my mindset to a building tempo run of about 30 minutes. In general, I've learned to never actually plan tempo runs or any speed work, that way when I come across times like this I can go full-out and get my speed work in. Especially when it comes to running.

Now, on the other hand, we had a lot of traveling to do over the weekend. From Madison, to Chicago, to the western part of Illinois, then back to Madison. My wife had a baby shower for a friend to go to near her parents house, so I knew I had a few hours to kill while she was gone. Throughout the week, I based my training off of that being my big day for the week.

The shower was in the afternoon, so I had all morning to help out with the family, take care of the dogs, and get in a little relaxing on a lazy Sunday morning after having baby duty the night before. Once noon rolled around, I was ready to go and headed out on my 2-hour ride, followed up by a brick run of 30 minutes. Going out for this session was nice. I knew my wife and baby were at an event and not sitting at home doing nothing. I had a clean conscious, not worrying that I'm leaving my family to go get in my training. Something we'll have to get over if my wife and I plan to keep training for races.

Most of all, being time-crunched is tough. But if you're clever, and always have gear ready to go, you can make the most out of every situation. Running is the easiest to do while being short on time. There's less gear, and you can run practically anywhere if you've planned ahead a bit. Always be ready to change things up and jump on a moments notice if you get some free time to squeeze in your training. There's always going to be excuses not to get the training in. But those who reap the benefits are those who are ready and willing to get up and going when they have the time.

-Dave

Intentional Training

A friend of mine posted a link to a zen-type posting about living an intentional life. Now I won't take any claim for finding it or posting it elsewhere, but I often enjoy the links that he posts. Many of them help to keep people grounded or are based around profound ideas. Either way, they always end up being good reads whether they pertain to my life or not.

This one, however, struck me right in the face. Not only in my personal life, but also in my professional life and how I train. Now, this being a blog mostly about training and experience, I'll write mostly about that. But that doesn't mean you can't apply the same logic to the rest of your life.

The main premise of the article was to really look at your life. Though it may be full of mundane and monotonous tasks that have become habitual to you, you almost go through the motions. I was thinking about how someday I'll be taking my daughter to her first day of school. I will be so excited and anxious all wrapped up into one. But after 2-3 years of that, I am sure it will become a task and feel like more weight on my shoulders. I hope to still have this wisdom in my mind when that time comes. I'm not just taking her and dropping her off. I am giving my daughter the opportunity to go to school and be there for her each and every day while she learns and expands her mind as she grows. Tasks like that may seem so small, but when you step back to look at them, they are profound in and of themselves.

Turning this onto training, I think of training with purpose. I ask myself why do I train? I have many reasons, but what is the REAL key reason behind the early mornings, the long hours, and time lost with loved ones and friends? To fill some unfillable void in my life? No, not even close. After reading Jordan Rapp's speech after his NYC USA Ironman Championship on slowtwitch, I began to think about it even more.

Each and every time I lace up my shoes, strap on my helmet, or slide on my goggles, there's always got to be a purpose. And you know what, each day maybe it changes. Especially for me. Often times, when I really feel the urge to get out and run long, I want to free my mind, and think about my brother. It puts me at peace and I truly feel like I can talk with him. I always look around and try to think about what we'd be saying to each other. Are we being serious? Hell no. Most likely we're yucking it up about some stupid crap we always do. And sometimes when I'm angry, I'm able to think about how pissed I am that he was taken away from us at such a young age, and I can't understand why. So I run my frustrations out. So hard sometimes I feel I'm going to pass out.

When I'm out riding, most of the time I think of my other brother who is also a triathlete. But I mostly think of him as a biker. He puts in hundreds and thousands of miles, and some pretty big power as well. I've got a long way to go to catch up to him. But on the big hills and sprints, I can always picture him ahead of me, slightly pulling away and having a smirk on his face once I finally catch him.

Even beyond all of this individualized purpose, if there's one thing I love, it's race day. Especially when I have my family and friends there to support me. I love the training, but when it comes to race day, and I hear my family and friends cheering, there's nothing better. And we can never really thank those people who have given up their time with us to let us do the things we love. But like Rapp put it:

We’ve thanked them by being brave enough to risk standing on that start line. And we’ve thanked them by pushing our bodies and our minds and our limits. We’ve thanked them by doing something amazing.

It doesn't sound like a lot. But that's some pretty powerful purpose to race with.

But for me, a lot of my intention lies on race day. Is it a PR? Is it a new best bike split? Each race is different depending on the race specifics, but usually it lies at my overall time. Because in the end, the best bike split doesn't guarantee you the win. There's 3 sports involved, and my intention has always been to be fully well-rounded in all three. And to go beyond that, even transitions. My run has suffered (besides having surgery), due to the concentration I put on the bike this off-season. But I can see where I still have that giddy-up when I need it. It's there, just lurking in the dark. My swim has gotten better, but I feel that is still my weakest link. Is it bad that I'm already thinking about the off-season and how much time I want to put in the pool, getting better and faster? I didn't think so.

Maybe your intentions on racing is to compete, to belong, or just to survive. I don't really care what it is, as long as it gets you out there. If you're looking to lose weight, that's great. If you're looking to get faster, that's awesome, too! If you're looking to compete, well, I'm happy for you, but that means we'll be going head to head! And I love some competition!

So as you get out there, and might be starting to hit your late season or mid-season slumps, think about the big picture. Why are you training? What's your goal? Is it to remember a loved one, to prove someone wrong, or to keep getting better. Maybe it's to qualify for Kona. No matter what it is, keep it close to you. Don't let it go, and never lose sight of it. Otherwise you're training will just turn into another morning driving to work.

-Dave