Thursday, July 28, 2022

Adventure Report: The Bob Marshall Picnic

There comes a time in every man's life when he finds himself frantically burying a bicycle in the woods in the middle of the night. For me, that time happened to be 11pm on Thursday July 14, 2022.

Allow me to explain.

Bob Marshall, the OG mountain ultrarunner


The Bob Marshall Traverse

Back in 1932, legendary ultra-hiker and wilderness advocate Bob Marshall summited 13 Adirondack High Peaks in a day, as well as the 2,876 foot Mount Jo for good measure. This broke the previous record of eleven peaks. He summarized the endeavor with the kind of self-effacing humor you would expect from a modern day ultrarunner:
Well said, Bob.

Marshall would pass away suddenly from heart failure at the age of 38, but his legacy would live on in the nine million acres of wilderness he helped to preserve.

Marshall spent the night before his hike at John's Brook Lodge, a backcountry bunkhouse five miles from Keene Valley. At 3:30am, he set off into the darkness, summiting Big Slide before returning to the Lodge for a quick breakfast. He then turned south, climbing each peak in the Great Range (Lower Wolfjaw, Upper Wolfjaw, Armstrong, Gothics, Saddleback, Basin, Haystack, and Marcy). He dropped down the south face of Marcy to Four Corners, where he made an out-and-back summit of Skylight before continuing west past Lake Colden and up to Iroquois, Algonquin, and Wright. He then made the 2,500' descent to the Adirondack Loj where he had dinner. Feeling reenergized, he made the short but steep hike to the summit of Mount Jo to take in the stars. His route totaled 30-35 miles and 15,000 feet of elevation gain and took 18 hours and 40 minutes.

Ted "Cave Dog" Kaiser repeated this route in 2005 as part of his 50K in 50 states project, finishing in around 24 hours. However, it wasn't until 2018, more than 86 years after Marshall's famous hike, that a local runner named Bethany Garretson bested Marshall's time, completing the traverse in 15:33. Within a few years the records had been lowered to 13:07 for women and 12:10 for men.

Elevation profile of the Bob Marshall Traverse
Water droplets indicate places where water can be filtered

Introducing the Bob Marshall Picnic

Since seeing the Bob Marshall Traverse on the FKT webpage, I've been trying to find a time to drive up to the Adirondacks and run it. My name is indelibly etched in the annals of Adirondacks history thanks to that time that Alex Galasso and I created its greatest running route. I felt compelled, therefore, to add to my legacy by smashing the existing FKT for the Bob Marshall Traverse.

The problem, however, was that the logistics of the traverse are complicated. It is point-to-point and starts 5 miles from the nearest town (1.5 mi on road + 3.5 mi on trail). That means that you either need to get a ride to the start, a ride back from the finish, or both if you are really trying to conserve energy. Additionally, the bunks at the Lodges are booked months in advance and it is impossible to predict mountain weather more than a few days ahead of time.

The solution, it seemed to me, was to turn this traverse into a loop. This would require hiking into JBL from Keene Valley, completing the traverse, and either running or biking the 20 miles from the ADK Loj back to the start. In the same vein as the Presidential Picnic, Grand Teton Picnic, and various other routes that combine biking and running, I named this new route the Bob Marshall Picnic.

The Bob Marshall Picnic. The original route is in red, the hike into JBL is pink, and the biking route from ADK Loj to Keene Valley is blue [click to see the route on Caltopo]. 

All that is a long way to say that at 11pm on a Thursday night in July, I found myself thrashing through the woods outside of the ADK Loj trying to decide how big a pile of branches and leaves was required to safely hide my $120 gravel bike from any would-be thieves. I had made the 5 hour drive up from NJ after work that day, eaten a nutritious dinner of pizza and diet Coke while driving, and I planned to get a few hours of sleep before starting the next morning. My body is a temple, but like, a shitty one that thrives on sarcasm and junk food.

Hiking in the dark

After an all-too-short night of sleep, my alarm went off at 3am. Go time! I had slept in my running clothes so all I had to do was hobble to my car and make the 20 minute drive from Draper's Acres campground to the starting point in Keene Valley. I chugged a Dunkin Donuts iced coffee that I had picked up at a gas station the day before (treat yo self). I parked my car at a hiker parking lot on on Rt. 73, and by 3:39 I was hiking up Adirondack Road toward The Garden trail head, munching on an everything bagel.

The hike to John's Brook Lodge is a mild five miles and I took my time, treating it like a warmup. I arrived at the Lodge almost two hours later, having stopped to filter water, shed a few layers, and take a bio break. Now it was time for the fun part.

The Bobby

I restarted my watch at 5:36am and set off from the Lodge. The climb up the Big Slide Trail is long but somewhat tame by Adirondacks standards, at a leisurely 2,000 feet in two miles. I felt a little dumb with three full water bottles in my pack as I zig zagged back and forth across Slide Mountain Brook. A little lesson learned in the importance of course recon. I reached the summit in almost exactly an hour, which was about ten minutes behind the men's FKT for the traverse. I typically like to start slow so I figured I would be a few minutes behind at the early summits, but if I had a good day I might slowly catch up my the end and sneak in under the FKT for the traverse portion of my day.

Sunrise over the Great Range from Big Slide

I paused for a moment to take a sweaty selfie and then trotted back down the trail, eating my first Snickers bar of the day. I lost the trail briefly on one of the many river crossings, but found it again quickly. Yet another reason to actually scout the route that you are attempting to run for speed.

Now it was time to face the Great Range. I had done a full Great Range Traverse back in 2019 and remembered it being mostly devoid of water sources, as ridge traverses often are. I made sure to fill all my bottle as I crossed Wolfjaw Brook for the final time before getting to Lower Wolfjaw.

The final push from Wolfjaw Notch to Lower Wolfjaw rises 725 feet in just 0.37 miles (36.5% grade) and I struggled to keep my heart rate low and my breathing steady. This would be a theme for the remainder of the day. With steep wet slabs and boulder scrambles that require the use of all four limbs, the Great Range is not conducive to low-heart-rate efforts. Nevertheless, I tagged the summit, took another quick picture, and plummeted back into the notch toward Upper Wolfjaw.

Climbing Upper Wolfjaw involves negotiating a series of small cliff bands, and generations of foot traffic have eroded the delicate topsoil on the trail. I wondered what the trail would have looked like back in Bob Marshall's day before peak bagging was the popular hobby it is now. This would be another theme for the day. Bob Marshall had famously fought to protect these mountains from logging, but their fame has since led to a different kind of damage: severe erosion of the trails on the high peaks.

Climbing a slab on Upper Wolfjaw (I think) back in 2019

Moving along, I made sure to take the short out-and-back up the slab to the true summit of UWJ and then continued on southward. Next up was Armstrong, whose sheer sloped always look more imposing than they actually are when you first spot the mountain through the trees. I made it to the summit with minimal issues and was rewarded with a short stretch of relatively flat trail along the summit ridge followed up a mild (for the Dacks) descent and ascent to Gothics.

I think of Gothics as the point where the Great Range traverse becomes almost a true alpine route. Although the majority of the route is still below tree line after this point, the summits are rocky and exposed, and the descents often resemble the type of scrambles you would find in a west coast range. Case in point, the descent off the southern flank of Gothics drops 604 feet in just a quarter mile of smooth rock slab (-45% grade). Dumber Braver hikers are able to walk this, but the vast majority choose to use an old sketchy garden hose that is bolted onto the rocks and is generously called "the cables." I opted not to use the cables since for some reason I thought it would take too long to bend over and grab them.

Alex T. descending the cables during a partial Great Range Traverse in 2020

The steep slabby descents continued after Saddleback. Here the Great Range Trail was essentially just a cliff face with a few blazes painted on the rock. Route finding was tricky and I paused a few times to make sure I didn't get cliffed out on my way down. This section was the steepest of the day at 336 feet in just 0.13 miles (-48.8%). Adirondack trail builders were wild back in the day!

Alex G. picks his route down the Saddleback cliffs in 2019. Basin is off to the right.

Somewhere around here is where I ran out of water. It had been almost three hours since I had filled my bottles in Lower Wolfjaw Creek, and the weather was starting to get warm. I pushed a bit to get up Basin and down the other side to Haystack Brook, where I gulped down two bottles in rapid succession and then refilled all three bottles again. In terms of finding water, I had made it through the crux of the route and would have numerous places to filter for the rest of the day.

Feeling reenergized, I charged up Haystack, which is one of my favorite summits in the Adirondacks. At 4960' Haystack is the third highest peak in the Dacks and the top 500 feet of it are entirely above tree line, which means that it offers a beautiful panoramic view of the surrounding peaks without the crowds of its neighbor Mt. Marcy.

The descent down the Phelps trail was tougher than I remembered, butt thankfully it wasn't very long. It was now just after noon as I began climbing Marcy, the highest peak in New York. At this point in the day, the crowds had gotten a chance to make their way deep into the High Peaks Wilderness and the trail was getting busier. I was thankful that I had chosen to do this route on a Friday since that minimized the amount of times I had to pull over and let large groups pass.

Typical crowds at the summit of Marcy. Photo from 2019.

I tagged the summit of Marcy with exactly seven hours elapsed since I had left John's Brook Lodge. Previous reports from this route had said to treat this peak as the half way point, but I hoped that I was well over half way done. It was on the ensuing descent to Four Corners that my quads started to complain for the first time. I had pushed them pretty hard on the steep slab descents earlier in the traverse and I hoped that they would hold up for the remaining 8,000-ish feet of descent that were ahead.

Skylight was a quick climb and descent but somehow seemed to be ten degrees hotter than any other trail I had been on. Sweat was pouring down my face and stinging my eyes. I was happy to check a new high peak off my list, but even happier to get off the mountain and spend a few minutes splashing around in Feldspar Brook. Nothing feels better than ice cold mountain runoff on a hot summer day.

The next four miles were relatively flat, following the Mount Marcy Trail along Feldspar Brook to Lake Colden before the assault on the last three high peaks. I was still only 20 minutes behind the Traverse FKT, and I figured I could make good time here and maybe pull even with the FKT before the big climb up Iroquois. The reality was that the Mount Marcy Trail - as its name suggests - is one of the shortest routes to the mountain and consequently is horribly eroded from decades of overuse. I had pictured myself jogging down rolling creek-side singletrack, but instead I was greeted by a boulder field with intermittent sections of shoe sucking mud. Rather than the leisurely 12-15 minute miles I had anticipated, I was barely able to average 20:00/mi in this section. By the time I reached Lake Colden the FKT was starting to slip away.

Nevertheless, I pushed hard on the climb up Iroquois. I only had a few thousand more feet of climbing, so there was nothing left to save the legs for (well, aside from a 20 mile bike ride, but I decided not to think too hard about that little detail). Once again, I had started a climb with three full bottles and then found myself climbing up alongside, and occasionally through, a creek. I cannot overemphasize how important course recon is for this route.

The Algonquin Trail: all the water you can filter

Strava claims that this climb was mere 1,886 feet in 1.51 miles, but let me assure you that it felt significantly longer. The entire section was essentially a stack of boulders with a creek running over it. Don't get me wrong, this is exactly the sort of silly masochistic bullshit that I drove up to experience, but this isn't a trail for people in a hurry.

Feeling "strong" just below the summit of Iroquois. The Trap Dike route up Mount Colden is visible just over my shoulder, but that's an adventure for another day.

The gust of cool air that greeted me at the bald summit ridge was wonderful. I made the turn southward over Boundary Peak and up Iroquois. I took a glance at my pace chart and realized that I was now almost 35 minutes behind the traverse FKT. I had a decision to make. I'm usually good for a fast downhill finish, so I didn't think I was completely out of the game. On the other hand, I had Fat Dog 120 coming up in a few short weeks and I couldn't risk hurting myself or overexerting. I decided to throw in the towel and settle for establishing the Picnic route as a consolation prize.

With that decision made, my adrenaline subsided and my energy levels dropped. I made a slow ascent of Algonquin, losing another 5-10 minutes on the FKT, and then walked down the north side of the mountain toward Wright. Despite looking like a side note in the elevation profile of the traverse, Wright is a deceivingly steep little peak, rising 577' in 0.38mi (28.1%). I took a moment here to soak in the spectacular scenery and enjoy the last few minutes of breezy 55 degree weather that I'd had all day on the summits.

Looking back at Colden and the Great Range from Wright, the last high peak of the day

I mostly walked the 3.6 miles from the summit of Wright to the ADK Loj, making a few half-hearted attempts to jog when the trail leveled out. But at this point, I was just trying to save a bit of energy for the bike back. I passed through the Loj property with 12:30 elapsed and one last peak to tag. Why? I thought to myself, Why the fuck did Bob Marshall have go back out to do Mount Jo after dinner? I'm sure I'm not the first person to register this complaint.

While only a mile and a half round trip from the Loj, Mount Jo is a tough little peak at the end of a long day. From the trail, I could smell hotdogs cooking and hear children playing in Heart Lake. This was one of those situations that makes you question your choice of hobby. Nevertheless, I summitted the mountain and walked back down to the Loj, stopping my watch with 13:21:28 elapsed.

Now let's see, where did I leave my bike?

The first order of business upon returning to the Loj was to put in a food order at the Hungry Hiker, a snack bar that was serving hot food and cold drinks. I had passed by it before my climb up Jo and the thought of eating a big greasy cheeseburger was the only thing keeping me going. I ordered burger, a Coke, and a Gatorade. I'm not sure what I paid for all that. I would have gladly shelled out $100 if it meant I didn't have to eat another goddamned gel.

While the food was cooking, I set off to dig up my bike, hoping that no one had spotted it and decided to ride it into the lake or throw it off a cliff. Thankfully it was right where I had left it. With my brain a bit mushy from 15 hours of moving through the mountains, it took me a while to get the tires mounted and fix the chain, which had somehow wrapped itself around the pedal. You see, in my laziness the night before, I had stashed my bike disassembled since that's the only way it can fit in the back set of my little Honda. Yet another valuable lesson learned. Assemble the bike before you're on the clock.

This is what heaven looks like

I rolled back to the Loj and wolfed down my burger with chain-grease-covered hands, then set off for the last 20 miles of my journey.

On paper, the route from the Loj back to Keene Valley drops from 2,200 feet down to 1,100 feet. When I planned the Picnic, I envisioned this as a leisurely coast with very little pedaling involved. Unfortunately, all the little bumps in the elevation profile added up to another thousand feet of climbing. Even more unfortunately, I'm a novice biker who rides a beat up old gravel bike. That is to say, this was not a fast or efficient ride back in to town.

The sun began to set about half way through the ride, and I flipped on my lights and put on my puffy jacket for the first time all day. I had felt a little silly carrying that jacket in my pack for 15 hours, but as I ripped down the thousand foot descent into Keene at 40 mph, I was extraordinarily grateful that I had thought to bring it. I'm sure that serious bikers would scoff at the idea of wearing a puffy jacket while trying to go fast, but as I have tried to emphasize here, I'm not a serious biker.

I pulled back into the hiker parking lot in Keene Valley 17 hours and 33 minutes after I had left, completing the loop entirely human-powered and self supported. From what I can tell, my time on the traverse portion of the route is the third fastest on record, and my time for the full loop was even a bit faster than Bob Marshall's time for just the traverse. However, I have to give him style points for stopping to eat a full breakfast, lunch, and dinner on his journey.

This traverse can certainly go much faster, as I took my time with the first and third legs of it and made various tactical, navigational, and nutrition mistakes during the traverse itself. Hopefully this effort inspires other people to tackle the Picnic or to invent bigger and dumber routes in the mountains.

The route is still pending approval on fastestknowntime.com, so I'll update this post if/when it goes through.

Happy running!

Stats for nerds

Stop at JBL: 4m
Stop at ADK Loj: 30m
Total: 56.15mi, 17,112, 17h33m

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