Time for a little leg work

I'm in Indianapolis for a writing seminar for the next couple of days, and, since I hate to visit places without learning a thing or two, I perused the catalog inside the hotel room (Hampton Inn, btw, and nice) for local attractions.

Among them, the Benjamin Harrison home, the Statehouse, assorted sports venues, the Speedway, the National Track and Field Hall of Fame Museum . . .

Huh?

I thought the T&F museum was in The Armory in New York City. Fast interest search confirmed it. It was moved from Indy to New York in 2002.

So, now I have a mystery to solve.

Goodie.

Goodreads Giveaway

If you were interested in my book Finishing Kick, I'm offering a giveaway at Goodreads. If I set it up right, you should be able to click the Enter to Win button.

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Finishing Kick by Paul Duffau

Finishing Kick

by Paul Duffau

Giveaway ends October 07, 2014.

See the giveaway details at Goodreads.

Enter to win

And tell your friends too, please. Thanks! Paul Duffau

Troy Rail Trail

Headed out to Troy yesterday to visit with grandkids, but took an hour off to run the Troy Rail Trail. I've run the length of it from Troy to Kendrick once each way. About eight or nine miles is on private land (I have permission from the owners) and I'll put that stretch up the next time I run it - probably next summer. 

This jaunt was just to the chainlink gate about three miles down the trail. The chainlink is new; I think the old rusted barbed wire didn't suffice anymore beaten nearly flat and easy to step over.

Early part of the trail, just past the gate at the trailhead.

Early part of the trail, just past the gate at the trailhead.

Driving directions: follow Highway 8 east from Moscow to Troy. Pass through Troy, go past the turn-off for Highway 99, and continue another 200 yards or so to the next right hand turn. Turn in there. You'll see the water treatment plant there. That is the trail head. Parking is limited.

The powers that be paved the first bit of trail but the gravel picks up just before the gate. If you were to head back to Moscow, you could do the entirety of it on pavement. I suspect that eventually, if the disputes with the private owners can be smoothed over, they'll pave all the way to Kendrick. Nothing says communing with nature like an asphalt trail through the woods.

The trail is slightly downhill the whole way out and there is no hill, not even a hint of one. From the open meadow were the trail starts, to the gate, the I enjoyed smooth sailing. I did have to switch from side to side occasionally on the trail to stay out of the deeper gravel. Once clear of the meadow, I followed next to the creek as it wound its way to Kendrick and the Little Palouse River. 

Troy RAil Trail 005.JPG

The steel bones of the old trestles over the creek still stand but the wood rotted way long ago. On this stretch, concrete, cold and gray, overlays the surface of the trestles, a modern interruption into a trail good for reminiscing. Between trestles, it's easy to let the mind wander and the eyes to drift to the sides, picturing the hillsides of the creek 

I took a time out to walk out on a fallen tree so I could take a picture of the creek as it quietly burbled past. The bark was slick with morning dew and mosses. The banks of the waterway were overgrown with grasses on the east bank and shaded by trees on the west. 

About two miles down trail, a wild apple tree grows at the verge on the east side, fruit well formed, and turning red. I've run this trails a half dozen times before but never that this time of year. Fresh, ripe apples are a pleasant surprise. There was another tree, closer to the trailhead but the fruit looked small and hard. Since I'm making a return trip this way, I decided I'd snag an apple on the way back. 

Tuned back into the easy lope that carries me out to the turnaround, I note another pair of producing fruit trees. It's easy to imagine an engineer standing in the locomotive, finishing the apple from his meager lunch - a hard boiled egg, maybe, with a hard biscuit. A bit of cheese if he was lucky. The coffee would be hot and black. Done with the apple, he'd fling it out the window. 

And some of those thrown away cores took root and grew. 

A half mile from the turnaround, I met three ladies out hiking, then another three, and, at the turn, a group of seven waiting for their friends. A baker's dozen ladies, all into their fifties and most well beyond, out for a six or seven mile hike. Very cool ladies and we chatted and shared a laugh, a small joke at my expense,  before I turned back.

All the downhill becomes uphill obviously. The grade is not steep but the change in effort is noticeable. The change in direction altered the perspective in lighting. It helped with the pictures, limiting some of the washing out of colors. 

The sun started to heat the air. When I rolled out at the top, temps hovered in the mid-forties. By the time I reached the halfway point, it was into the mid-fifties. Now I built a good sweat though I kept the pace down. 

Troy RAil Trail 008.JPG

As planned, I stopped at the apple tree. Windfall apples scattered across the trail, and I noticed a branch broken that I hadn't before. An impatient bear had broken a branch, not waiting for the normal release. She gorged and then marked the location as hers. I didn't think that she would miss a singleton apple, so I found one that looked tasty. 

I didn't want to eat it and try to run, so I carried it in one hand and the camera in the other. 

The only excitement arrived with a loud crack as something quite large moved in the woods next to me. I stopped to search for the animal that broke the limb. Nothing, but given I knew a bear lived nearby, kept scanning while I walked.

My best guess would be white-tail deer as my experience with bears has always involved much cracking of branches and deadfall, not a single large crack. Bears appear disinclined to dodge things. Likewise, moose tend to go through rather than around. It may have been an elk as I saw signs of them. In the end, it was something big and mysterious, a reminder that trailrunners should stay alert. 

Round-trip was a smidge over an hour but I wasn't hustling and I didn't stop my watch when I took pictures. 

I'll try to get the whole trail done next year as I mentioned and I'll GPS it as well.

Until then, run gently.

Ps. The apple tasted delicious, a bit of sweet and a touch of tart with very crisp flesh.

No ribbons, medals, awards

Lincoln Middle School, in Clarkston, held their annual Lancer Invite for cross country yesterday. Without the high schools, the atmosphere was a little more relaxed and the officials a touch less formal.

The other thing missing - no individual awards, ribbons, etc. Several of the coaches commented on it, and favorably. I know that we've been working with our kids to divorce the running from the racing, and the racing from the results. We've gone so far as to ban watches on athletes during the race. They can get their times later.

I don't think the kids actually missed it. They knew how they did and where they placed. When they weren't racing, they were cheering, not just for their own teams. Heck, most of the coaches were cheering for everybody, in between coaching their own kids as they went by.

Middle school is a terrific age to work with - there's enthusiasm and hope. Most of these kids don't care at this point if they're really fast or not. They have friends on the team, and they're doing this cross country thing together.

They may not even admit that they like it, but judging by smiles afterwards, they do.

I'm a big fan of competition and most of the kids are, too. But I'm not a fan of awards. The medal or ribbon changes the emphasis from competing to see who's best to doing well enough to earn some bling. It devalues the effort of the less physically gifted kids who work just as hard, and leaves the gifted kids with the idea that not gaining a medal is a form of disgrace. The awards value the result, not the race.

Not Quite Done in the Garden - Yet

I picked a few tomatoes from the garden yesterday and saw the cucumber has new and pretty flowers. Since October is in close pursuit, and the goblins will arrive soon after the first frost, I doubt I'm getting any more cukes this year.

In truth, we didn't get a whole lot earlier in the year. The cucumber was a purchase from the Asotin greenhouse sale that the FFA holds every year. (I think it's the FFA.) I got a steep discount on the plant. It was the last one they had this season and scraggly, with just one little leaf.

Mr. Landris charged two bucks for each of the pepper plants I was also buying, looked at the cucumber, and sighed.

"We'll only charge you a dollar for the cucumber, since it might not make it."

I nodded, handed him a ten, and told him to keep the change. Firm rule on charity sales and auctions -  I over pay, cheerfully because the money goes to causes I believe in. Don't believe me? Bid against me at a charity auction. Someone will be paying above retail for the item. I'm annoying like that.

Anyway, I carried the plants two blocks down the street, slipped into the back yard, and put them in the my once portable greenhouse. Early June is no time to plant cucumbers. The nights are much too cool yet.

Three weeks later, I planted the little guy. He was up to three leaves and I felt unduly optimistic. The cucumber never really bushed out, not like the cantaloupe and the watermelon (this was an experimental year because I was bored with the normal choices.) One long vine was all that developed, but in July we got the first cuke.

The deer got the next two and that seemed to set the ratio for the entire summer.

Now, the nights are getting nippy. For those of you who have raised cucumbers, you understand they are the wimps of the garden. A hint of frost and they swoon.

Except not this little guy. The runt of the litter, he's game for more. Cucumbers can be hard to transplant but I might try and buy this one some time by getting him back into the greenhouse.

Who knows, maybe it'll work. If it doesn't, it won't be from a lack of trying.

Ruby Creek Trail

After I got done working yesterday, I went for a short out and back on Ruby Creek Trail. I probably need more time to explore the area since it's the first I've managed to get out there. Normally, I head farther out to Giant White Pine and run there.

Directions: From Potlatch, follow Highway 6 through Princeton, then Harvard. (Fast fact - the locals say the Hoodoo Café is pretty awesome. The meatloaf is especially good.) Approximately two miles outside of Harvard, you cross the Palouse River. Right after the bridge, you'll see the sign for the Ruby Creek and Mt. Margaret Trailhead. Make the next right, and then a tenth of a mile later, the next right. You'll wind back past farms for about 1.5 miles. Watch for the cows.

The two trails share a parking lot. Plenty roomy, but no facilities.  

Both trails are OHV (Off-Highway Vehicle) trails while I prefer MTF (My Two Feet) single track. I didn't see any motorcycles or four-wheelers while I was running. The advantage of running while the Seahawks play. There was one couple hiking with their dogs. One of the dogs, a good-looking boxer, seemed to have a perpetual look on her face that said "Cookie?" Fresh out, alas.

I ran up the trails to the first fork (about five minutes up, your time may be faster or slower, with faster more likely) and went left staying on the Ruby Creek Trail. The right fork takes you up, if the sign is to be believed, to the Mt. Margaret Loops.

I ran 2.5 miles up the trail. Up is operative here, as there was little flat ground and no down to run. The trail rises at about 250 feet per mile and I didn't top out for the short ways that I went.

Lots of eagles along the trail and two large mule deer which startled as I slogged past. I saw a couple of deer trails diving off to the side but I skipped exploring for now while I got a feel for the place. I'll need to come back with a topo - I'm betting there's a way to get to Giant White Pine, staying on trails.

The view from the gate.

The view from the gate.

Ruby Creek, I presume, is a seasonal event. Still very pretty.

Ruby Creek, I presume, is a seasonal event. Still very pretty.

The gravel gives way to packed dirt. The footing is great. In the background, you can see an old burn that was logged and is regenerating.

The gravel gives way to packed dirt. The footing is great. In the background, you can see an old burn that was logged and is regenerating.

Working Today

I've posted over at InlandXC.com for the races yesterday at the Inland Empire Klassic.

Today, I have to work, so no more posting until tonight at the earliest. I am going to try and sneak away on to a new trail, provided the toe I clobbered with a bed frame yesterday doesn't get worse.

Have a great rest of the weekend!

Links from Here and There

I interviewed Tim Tays a couple months ago about his book, Wannabe Distance God. Earlier this week, LetsRun.com ran a review and interview with Tim and named him their second Blue Collar Runner.

Sometimes I wonder what happens at large schools on the East Coast. Having grown up part-time in Maryland, I've got some good guesses. In this case, it certainly looks like the school was acting vindictively. Legally Blind Runner Allowed Back On School Team .

Over at JillWillRun, a tutorial on her garden. I do my own small garden and share with the neighbors. My process is mostly benign neglect and seems to work. Certainly the deer enjoyed it as the poor tomatoes retreated into their cages. Any protruding branches got nubbed at the wire. The habanero peppers were safe though.

Lauren Fleshman has a training journal coming out in a month or two. I'm going to get one to look it over - I handed out a couple of run-of-the-mill logs to a pair of my runners this year. Lauren was one of the few people that I sent a copy of Finishing Kick to, even though she told me she wouldn't have time to read it as a new mom and pro athlete. Okie-dokie, someday she will have time.

I need to get ready for the Inland Empire Klassic meet today over in Lewiston. I'll have some articles on it tomorrow over at InlandXC.com but probably not all the races. They kind of drag on until the middle of the afternoon and I need to be on the work site by 2PM. Don't think I'll get to varsity boys.

When it rains, the trails turn muddy

It rained, so I think I owe Hells Gate Park a visit. I ran there early this month but the ragweed pollinated the air, my throat, and my lungs, leaving me hacking at the edge of the trail. Most unpleasant but I did finish the run- at a walk, though.

{Update: runny eyes, itchy throat, hacking. Nope, the ragweed is hanging on . . . changing run plans.}

Oddly, I just realized I've never taken pictures there even though I run the park frequently. Heck, I can see it from my house and, if a river didn't run through, could run there in about four minutes - Paul minutes, not Roger Bannister minutes. It really is quite close.

Instead of staying on the lower rolling trails, I think I'll wander up some of the steep grades with the GPS and get them dialed in for planning later. I love those hills, especially the couple that I've never made it all the way up running. Devil's Slide will be a slick muddy mess, though a friend said the trail washed out and rutted. We'll see.

Tomorrow will be coaching at the meet in Lewiston on the same course that LCSC runs. I think the race will be chipped timed which the kids think is very cool and big-time.

Sunday, after work (seven days this week so I can take a vacation next week,) I figure on trying a new trail off of Hwy 6 in the Princeton area.  I'm only planning a short 5-6 mile scout but more pictures when I'm done. I'm also going to start adding driving directions to all the trails.

Have a great weekend. Those of you with youngster racing, cheer loud. The kids won't admit it but they need you to be their biggest fan.

For the runners, run gently and enjoy the changing season. See you on the trails.

Colfax Rail Trail

First off, this trail can be a bit of a bugger to find, so directions.

Headed westbound on Highway 26 from Colfax, you will cross over the bridge over the Palouse River. West River Road is immediately on the other side of the bridge, on the right. Turn here. Follow that gravel track as it winds through the industrial zone, past the rock plant.  Along the way, you'll pass a stick with a faded cone perched on it. You're on the right path. Follow the road as it turns into a dirt track until you reach a green gate. Easy, if you know where to make the first turn.

Now the trail.

The first gate and the trail beyond. Parking is to the right. It's wide enough to pull a U-turn or fit multiple vehicles.

The first gate and the trail beyond. Parking is to the right. It's wide enough to pull a U-turn or fit multiple vehicles.

The trail parallels the Palouse River and, early in the run, there are expansive views of the wheat fields.

The trail parallels the Palouse River and, early in the run, there are expansive views of the wheat fields.

The footing is varied but mostly good. Watch for the occasional rock. Also, bear, deer, elk, and cow poop. The Colfax Rail Trail just after the abandoned trestle.

The footing is varied but mostly good. Watch for the occasional rock. Also, bear, deer, elk, and cow poop. The Colfax Rail Trail just after the abandoned trestle.

The natural basalt provides some protection from the wind and adds texture to the vistas.

The natural basalt provides some protection from the wind and adds texture to the vistas.

The end of the line. Between this point and that tunnel is the river. A portion of the trail curls up to the south. I didn't check it out. Instead, I played.

The end of the line. Between this point and that tunnel is the river. A portion of the trail curls up to the south. I didn't check it out. Instead, I played.

From the middle of the Palouse River. Fording the river to check out the tunnel . . .

From the middle of the Palouse River. Fording the river to check out the tunnel . . .

The inside of the tunnel - or what's left of it. Native basalt is visible at the rear of the tunnel. The thin ribbon you see is the remaining concrete that didn't get taken out by the cave-in. Almost certainly unsafe for entry.

The inside of the tunnel - or what's left of it. Native basalt is visible at the rear of the tunnel. The thin ribbon you see is the remaining concrete that didn't get taken out by the cave-in. Almost certainly unsafe for entry.

I saw the bald eagles again while I ran, along with a blue heron. The heron was at the beginning part of the Colfax Rail Trail. The eagle was in the first copse of trees on the return trip. Couldn't have been more than ten yards away and thoroughly magnificent.

From the droppings, elk are frequent visitors though I only saw a pair of mule deer and a herd of cows.

I think I spent more time fording the river (don't try this trick in spring or we'll have to retrieve your body from Palouse Falls!) and exploring the tunnel than I did running. Fun way to spend an afternoon.

 

Smash it flat and send it to China

Years ago, I went car shopping, hoping to unload a Chevy Lumina minivan that belongs in the pantheon of terrible vehicles. We eventually did trade it, for a Ford Ranger pick-up that I used for work. The dealer managed not to laugh and gave us a grand for the pile o' crud we had been using.

My girls were little then - we could actually fit all five of us into the supercab - and wanted to know what was going to happen to the Lumina.

The headline above, "Smash it flat and ship it to China", was undoubtedly blunt. What I hadn't realized was that they were attached to the vehicle. I had thee girls burst into tears and my wife had to explain that I was just 'joking.' I was busy shaking my head, but no one was paying any attention to mean old dad.

We're out car shopping again. Now it's time to replace that Ranger. It's got a lot of miles on it, but runs decently well. We've put some work into it to make sure that it does. When we let this go, I'm going to be the one attached. It's been a nice little truck that has served us well. All three girls got their first lessons on how to drive a stick in that truck and we had given it to the youngest daughter - but she had a baby and the pick-up isn't really suitable so we got it back.

It's not suitable for grandmas either, so it's time to bid it goodbye. I'm hoping to find something that we'll like as much.

And we're hoping to find a good home for the Ranger. No "smash it flat and send it to China" this time. The Ranger deserves better than that.

New Job at the Seaport Invite

Traipsing over to Clarkston for the Seaport Invite today. Coach Denton always sets up and runs a nice race and I like the course, but this meet will be a bit sad.

For the first time in nearly a decade, I won't be working as a volunteer at the Invite. I've acted as timer - apparently my right thumb is useful to cross country  - for nearly a decade. Last year at this race, I watched the immortal Les McDowell starting, and thought that when he laid down the gun for the last time, I might try to fill his shoes.

Les does a great job of starting, and gets less appreciation than he should. I've never seen a bad race start, cross country or track, for any age group, when he ran the show. I asked him at last year's meet if he would mind training me.

He agreed. And at a track meet this past year, I had to apologize and guit on the idea.

I had a new one, a new role I wanted to fill. Being somewhat an overachiever (when the mood strikes,) I get to create something both new - and old, at the same time.

We used to have reporting on the races that happened around the country. Local newspapers carried the results of road races, and the seasons at the local schools. School newspapers did, too.

Somewhere, that disappeared. Costs, not just for materials, but for labor was a part of it. A larger part was the growing dependence of local papers on the AP. There is little real reporting in most newspapers, just regurgitations of the national line.

That's the old.

The new relies on two simple ideas - pixels are free, and writers like to write (and like to see their name on a byline.)

A community of young writers learning their trade (and yes, it's a trade. Once upon a time, newspapermen had high school educations and worked their way up to reporter) can do so for next to no cost, maybe a couple of hundred dollars for the website. I front the cost on that (folks that buy my books help because ten percent of the profits head back to local teams.)

Why the newspapers, who already have the infrastructure, don't run with this is beyond me except perhaps they've forgotten that they serve communities of readers.

So today, instead of timing, I'll be looking for story ideas, pictures to highlight the athletes, and keeping my sense of joy while I watch it all.

I find it very exciting, even if it's also hard work. I think I'm going to miss timing. It was a small job, but I knew I was helping. Now I hope that I'm helping and I won't know either way for years to come.

 

This System Fails the Kids

News came out in the last couple of days that two kids,  Olga and Yelena Paushkina of Russia, flunked doping tests. One, Yelena, was the gold medal winner at the Europe Youth Olympic Festival.  Her twin was a 4:25 1600M runner.

I can imagine that parents and coaches in the States are saying, "Yeah, that's over there, though."

I wonder. The pressure to win overwhelms common sense too frequently, and not just overseas. People are people, regardless of origin. The human genome is a remarkably homogenous mish-mash of DNA.

We have teenagers signing pro contracts. Pros are expected to win, perhaps not immediately, but eventually, and there's none of the "scholar-athlete" excuses to be made. We know that high school athletes in football, basketball, and baseball have been busted for steroids. It's not that large a leap to think that a near great runner is experimenting with PEDs.

It's a shame, both for the runner who's health is being risked, but also to the clean athletes who are competing uphill. And, even if they are successful, the misbehavior of the others potentially taints their accomplishments. Go to message boards like those at LetsRun.com and you'll see the suspicion.

I want my sport clean. If that means fewer World Records, so be it. Immortality doesn't come with asterisks. It takes drive, dedication, hard work, and more luck than a record-holder might want to admit.