A Canyon Fit for Kings…
Back in high school, I used to attend a running camp every summer. We would scale mountains, swim in rivers, eat beef stew and get dirty. I would spend 8 days in the Sierra Nevada Mountains at elevation training and socializing with other athletes who cared about running hard and fast. And we would do so in an amazing setting, Kings Canyon National Park.
This last week, a former teammate and friend in high school who I have recently reacquainted with, Chris Werdenberg, headed up on a whim to visit this year’s running camp for a couple of days. The camp is organized each year by Jim McCarthy, my former running coach at Point Loma HS; a mentor in running and life. The location of the camp has now shifted to Sequoia National Park, (an hour or so away from the original location), but equally beautiful. Chris and I headed up at 5am on Thursday to reconnect, reminisce, and renew our belief that King’s Canyon was the greatest place we’d seen in our high school days, and perhaps, now in our adult days.
Our trip north was started in the darkness of Thursday morning, and by the time the sun had risen to illuminate our path, we were speeding out of LA and into the grapevine in Chris’s cargo van for his business, Indulge Weddings and Special Events. As many have learned, I am a big believer in paying attention to coincidences and notable events in life. The fact that Chris and I are getting back in touch at this time of our lives, is probably something that should be noted. In this last year, we have both quit our day jobs and started our own business. We have also lost important people in our lives in 2008. This trip was a chance to talk about our challenges, accomplishments, and outlooks for the future after having lost touch for over 10 years.
After stopping in the booming towns of Gorman and Visalia, and doing some grocery shopping at “Grocery Outlet” (if you don’t look at the “sell-by” dates, you feel like you are getting real bargains there!) we began our ascent along the General’s Highway into the higher oak forests and then pine and sequoia lushness. Having seen the Giant Sequoia trees before, I was not expecting to be so blown away again, but I was. These special organisms that out rank all others in sheer volume, towered above us. We saw mother and cub bears and deer before we even crested into afternoon. Nature was trumpeting our arrival. With the white cargo van acting as our carriage, and me wielding a digital camera out the window, we wove our way up to 8000 feet.
Around 2pm, we pulled into the group campsite where Jim was taking a nap in his chair. After rudely waking him up and catching up for a good half hour, we let him resume his relaxation while we unpacked our gear, setup our tent, and went down to the river to swim, explore, and descend down rock water slides. That first evening I went for a relaxed run to a grove of giant sequoias called Muir Grove. Being such a fan of John Muir, I think this particular grove is aptly named, since its one of the most impressive collection of trees I have seen. After completing the 5 miles back to camp, (the run being ill advised since I was alone and there were bear and mountain lion sightings in the area), I rejoined Chris (he only runs now to the toilet). We hung out around the campfire with the adults (alumni, coaches, and parents), and planned our trek the following morning to King’s Canyon.
Morning came with a sore shoulder, from an under-inflated air mattress, and slight fatigue (the sounds of the forest the previous night included what we believed to have been a crashing tree and a rummaging bear). Chris and I loaded into the great van, and descended into the valley. There was a fire in the park to the north, and it was a concern that our destination might be closed, or tough to enjoy due to bad air quality. However, the arrival at the canyon floor yielded blue skies and fresh air.
Rarely did a minute go by where either Chris or I didn’t blurt out, “whoa, look up there!” or “oh man, can you believe that?” Any time where we weren’t impressed with the visual surroundings, we were talking about the olden days. “Remember that one time we….”, “Can you believe that I used to…”, and “What was the name of…” dominated our dialog. For any detail that one of us couldn’t remember, the other was quick to provide it.
We drove along the valley floor, parallel to the South Kings Fork River, slowing town to take pictures of trailheads that we used to run. Names like ‘Lookout Peak’, ‘Roaring River Falls’, ‘Bubb’s Creek’ accompanied memories for each picture I took. “Welcome to Zumwalt Meadow”, “Knapp’s Cabin Next Left” … signs for these landmarks would double as mile markers for our workouts … but today, they were nostalgia.
Chris dropped me off at Roads End to go for a run. My training so far has been mostly swimming and biking, but the running would be my focus this week. I went out for an hour and half and completed a run called Mist Falls. A nine mile run that ascended up to beautiful waterfalls, stunning views, and complete exhaustion for my sorry out of shape ass. But I made it. When I returned back to the car, I met Chris at Muir rock where we jumped off the 10-foot high platform into cold river water, and then would float downstream. After beers to warm us, and a few more jumps, we were ready to get out of the sun.
With a final detour through “Canyon View Campground”, where in the past our running groups would set up its home base each year, we decided it was time to leave the valley. But not until we stopped by the lodge where we used to buy ice cream sandwiches.
As we exited the valley, we came across a bearded kid along the road with this eyes closed and his thumb out. Chris and I felt like helping the guy out for a ride up the mountain, so we picked him up. Joe had been traveling the country for the last 5 years. A creative writing major in college, he was now a vagabond under our care. He has visited all but two National Parks in the US! We gave him some Fig Newtons, some water, and headed up the mountain. Our next stop was burgers and ice cream shakes at some Christian summer camp at Hume Lake that Jim had told us about. While our ragamuffin companion was a little hesitant to hop into a van with possible evangelists, the allure of greasy food and sweet desserts prevailed. The food was great, our new friend provided some interesting stories, and we left with full bellies. Joe hopped out at the lodge at the top where he was to meet a friend from Fresno, and we returned to camp.
That night Jim invited me to give a speech to the athletes at the campfire. It was the night before the week’s big run…they call it “the hump” named for the huge incline of 3000 feet in 4 miles and its final ascent in the last little bit. I decided to focus my speech on the importance of a positive attitude. I spoke about visualizing success and positive outcomes before taking on challenges, and how after the conclusion, that it is equally important to remain positive, even if the outcome falls short of your hopes. I don’t know if the students got as much from the speech as I did giving it, but hopefully they made it to the top of “the hump” run successfully…and continue to do so in life.
The following morning, I ran 5 miles by myself up a trail to “little baldy”, named after the granite dome at the top of the trail. The view from my conquest was magnificent. I was a little sketched out whenever I heard noises during the journey, thinking a mountain lion or bear might want some ClarkeBreakfast, but fortunately no encounters. Chris did see a bear after he dropped me off heading across the road in my direction too!
After packing up our gear, and saying a few good-bye’s Chris and I headed down the mountain switchbacks to sea level. Riding our white van steed, and me wielding a camera out the window, we left the canyon feeling like kings. Re-telling a few more stories of our boyhood and youth as we galloped back home to our kingdoms and our lovely queens.
p.s. Thank you John Muir
p.p.s. For all the pictures, visit the next post.