Mt. tayLor and the bum knee

Unlike yesterday, I woke up this morning ready to rock. I had hopped outta bed, took a shower, microwaved a breakfast sandwich I got at Walgreens last night, as well as drank the cold brew I had. Surprisingly, I was ready to head out the door before 6:45. 

I had about a half mile walk back to the “trail” (which in reality was just the main rod that goes through town, about 7 miles of road walking total before getting to an actual trail), which is always kind of a bummer, but it wasn’t much. Even though I thought about hitching, I just walked on as it was early and frankly I didn’t want to deal with talking to anyone in my just woken up state. 

Before I knew it, I was at the actual trailhead, and the start of steady incline for the rest of the day. Nothing too strenuous, but very quickly my knee started saying hi. From sore, to painful, to sharp pains, all in the matter of miles. Lame sauce indeed. After about 15 miles (total, so about 7-8 miles on the incline) I took an uncharacteristically long break (maybe 25 mins). Popped some Aleve, as well, and continued onwards. 

The meds worked for a short while, dulling the worst of the pain. But another 3 miles onward and it was back again. In addition to my knee being annoying, because of the incline, I was drinking much much more water than usual. I went that 32 mile day on 3 liters of water, and today I went 17. Fortunately, just before I got on the trail, a fella pulled up to me letting me know he was going to fill up a water cache up the trail, at mile 18. 

There was one trough I could have filled up at, but with reports of it being murky and not the best, I decided to push on, waterless, in hopes he followed through with his word. 

Sure enough, just before the real incline up to Mt. Taylor began, there was a box of 6 gallons of water. I was tempted to chug them all, but I only took one bottle so as not to over use my trail karma. I filled up my empty bladder, and then put the rest in my side bottle which I dumped some pedialite electrolyte powder mix into. I sat there for quite some time. Debating. Continue onwards, about 2000 feet in 3 miles to summit Mt. Taylor, and risk hurting my knee more, and be without water? Or camp right here, next to some water bottles I could maybe steal another liter or two if I really needed?

The debate went on for some time. All the while stretching and using the rawlogy ball to roll it out (which was a gift from Andy, a.k.a. Camel. He had sent it to me prior to the trail reminding me we aren’t as young as we were last time... and yeah. Apparently he was right! Good call with the cork ball). There was a nice flat spot right there, a lil fire ring (not that I have, or am likely to make an actual fire), and I even got as far as pulling out my tent and put my poles together. 

Then I continued to sit there. It was 4:15. Sun is now setting at 8. Was I really just going to sit there for almost 4 hours, only 18 miles into the day? 

Surely not. 

I threw my tent back in my pack, and with the rolling having helped my knee, I said F it. Time to climb. I couldn’t stop less than 20 miles on the day unless I was really in a bad spot, and it wasn’t that bad, all things considered. By 4:30, I was on the trail again. 

The summit of Mt. Taylor, which sits at 11,300 feet, was about 3 miles away. Reviewing the Topo map, 2 miles passed that was a little flat area between two humps. I figured that would be 23 miles on the day, and would suffice. Not the 26 I wanted, but with a bum knee I would accept it. 

So on I went. The first mile was pretty smooth sailing, the knee didn’t bother me (but a random blister I didn’t even realize was there had popped between my toes very shortly after starting to walk causing me to wince with a shooting pain). Then the incline started up and up, and the knee said wah. In all honesty, the grade wouldn’t have been terrible. Likely woulda slowed me down a bit, but not to the 1.8ish mph I was now hitting. It definitely wasn’t feeling good, and getting tighter. But so I persevered. Soon enough, just after 6p, I hit the summit. It was quite beautiful. Could see Grants off in the distance, where I had began the day. If only there was a giant zip line I could roll right back into a hot shower and bed with. Alas, the day dreaming must continue. 

With a quick photo, and signing of the register, I continued onwards to get to camp at a reasonable time. I made it maybe 100 yards. My knee with the ever so slight descent was screaming. My belly was grumbling. I was tired. And viola, a flat spot with fire ring protect from wind by lots of trees presented itself. 

It’s my first time above 10k feet in who knows how long. 6-7 years? Normally I wouldn’t opt to camp at over 11k right away. But with the trail being up at 8-9k relatively frequently, I felt acclimatized enough to not have to worry about getting ill. That pored with the fact I was very hungry (another sign I’m a-okay with the elevation), I plopped my gear down, set up my tent, and quickly cooked dinner. Only 21 miles on the day, but over 20 and with mostly down tomorrow.

Drooling over pictures of Lauren’s delicious sushi she’s having with a friend of hers tonight, I slurped up my ramen and packet of bbq pork. The main bummer part is I only have a liter of water left. It only needs to get my about 7-8 miles tomorrow, and mainly going down hill, so not terribly worried. But I do wish I could chug it all right now. But I will resist. 

Part of me wants to walk around a bit, see the sun set from the mountain summit, enjoy my camp. But more than likely I’m going to bundle up in a horizontal position and not move until morning, while hoping my knee shapes up and tomorrow will be better. 

...not more than five seconds after typing that, I heard a helicopter nearby. The 8 year old in me with visions of one hovering above the summit dropping water (and or beer and snacks) overcame the pain in my knee and I hopped up to see if I could see it from the summit. Alas, but the time I skipped the 100 yards it was gone. And in reality, with the wind as strong as it is up here, hovering at a safe distance above and able to accurately drop a bottle of water without it bursting or hitting me on the head is pretty slim... if my AK pilot buddies Edmund and Robert were here... however... I’m sure it could have been done.