Utah Thirteeners

This summer has been a struggle for sure. After spending 3.5 days in the hospital running every test possible, the doctors still did not know what was wrong with me. It was clear that I had had Myocarditis, but that had since cleared up. At first I thought I was on my way to healing up, but then I relapsed and became ill again. I spent a lot of time thinking about what it could be and what I could do. I figured since it felt like Lyme and it would be no harm, I ordered up my herbal remedies for Lyme from before. It worked, not great, but they cleared up my joint pain, swelling, and even made my mental state better. However; the deep fatigue I had been feeling was very slow to improve. I figured I was trying to push through illness, which would additionally stress my already weakened body. I emphasized rest and sleep, but still slow progress. I often thought, “Is this it?” “Is my life over?” “What am I going to do with limited energy and time?” “Am I dying?” It sucked. It sucks. ENOUGH. I knew I needed to at least just try something. With some decent looking weather, I decided I would give the Utah Thirteeners a go. I had been working on scouting it last summer, and a bit recently this summer. I didn’t have a shuttle ride, but I figured I could cache a tent and hike it home. I went to setup. But again the weather changed. Ugh, Im not going to get done any big projects this summer. I wanted to settle back into the depression and hopelessness. BUT WAIT! You know you just need to try. Kym was working in Utah this week. So I asked a friend. Kym was able to park her work truck at a friend’s house and join me for her weekend. She was tired from many weeks in a row of going Gung Ho. So she was happy to take it easy with me, and shuttle. Being around her always seems to quiet my doubts and anxiety, and no different this time. I still did not feel very confident, but I was happy to give it a try at least. With all the rain the previous week, I knew the few low areas would be wet marshes. I started at the West Blacks fork Trail head at 7:30am August 27th. Immediately I hit a wet muddy area, no avoiding it, my feet were wet. Oh well. I tried to avoid tramping through some of the marshes as to not fully saturate my shoes, socks, and feet. I got a little off my line, no big deal. And I was able to keep my feet fairly dry. As I climbed up above treeline, I was just taking it easy and thought, “This pace is too pedestrian”. I shrugged. Well I will scout the first cluster and bail to finish for a nice big scouting day. So I figured I might as well pick up the pace if it was just going to be a nice big day out. But it felt good. I got up the first peak Tokewanna in 1:55. Seeing the time shocked me into hustle mood. “Maybe I can do this?” As a moved over the Wasatch’s and Lovenia’s, I could tell I was moving well. Not fast, but steady and not wasting time. My attention turned to Henry’s Fork. I was worried about the crossing, and I knew it would be much easier if I could get it done in day light. I hustled down East Lovenia, grabbed water, and quickly found the Highline trail. I jogged on and off, up the basin towards Wilson. It felt good but I did not want to push to hard. A quick second to untie my shoes and dry out my feet. It was the middle of the afternoon, but the smoke hindered the sun and made it feel much later. I used that impetus to drive my progress forward. Up Wilson and down the steep scree. I was feeling good. Hurried over to Powell and I relaxed for a second. I knew I would make it across Henry’s in day light. The descent down Powell, things started to unravel. I felt like the world was spinning out of control. A few rocks teetered in such a way to make me fall or catch my balance. “Was I just exhausted? And losing control of my legs?” One such fall, I caught myself, but scraped my thumb a bit. It was bleeding and wouldn’t stop. I eventually thought to duct tape it and that was that. I got down to the grassy area and grabbed water. I sat on a boulder. I re tied my shoes. My feet had started to hurt. “Man, am I coming undone? Am I crashing? This it for this attempt?” No. I got up and started running across the grassy tundra. Picking my line through the Willows. I got this! But then the grass became spongy wet. I’ll try over here. Nope, wet as well. Over here. Willows. Just tramp through them. Owe. One scrapped my shin as another whipped me. Okay, over here. I got this. Swamp. Over here. Swamp. Rock hop. Splash. Ah fuck it. Mush mash, across the swamp. Back on trail. Back on track. But my feet are soaked and stink of the crap filled muddy marsh. Grabbed water. Found a boulder, 10 minute regroup. But it was sunset and I would not be able to get my feet fully dry. But I knew the rest of the route was up high and so eventually they will dry a bit. The climb up Gilbert didn’t seem that bad. As the twilight faded, we entered the headlamp tunnel, probably for most of the rest of the route. I was getting a bit disoriented in the sea of rocks and dark. I kept going too far West than where I should be. But with the frequent adjustments from Gaia, I was able to stumble up East Gunsight. My eyes were getting heavy and I knew a quick nap was in order. But not wanting to nap at 13K in the wind, I had to stumble down to Gunsight pass. Actually, being slightly left, I think I made a more efficient way down. Sweet. I pulled off my shoes and napped in the grassy tundra for 15 minutes. I was ready to go, but upon the start of locomotion, I felt groggy. I staggered on for a bit but as the climb became steeper, I felt weaker and sleepier. Okay, 15 more. So on a boulder I lay. Passed out. I jolted awake to my alarm. Where was I? Am I on the side of a mountain? Oh yeah. Up or down? Okay, I start climbing. When I quickly reached the top of West Gunsight, I suddenly felt wide awake. Hell yeah, lets do this! Party time! It’s like my body knew. Knew that was all the rest it was going to get that night. It was morning of the second day, 11:55pm. Haha, but I’ll take it. My body knows what’s up! Henrys Fork peak and out to Cliff Point passed without much significance. Oh yeah, zone time! I knew the Climb up to Kings would be the last major climb(not true) but it’s what I told myself. Then it just rolls along and down(wink). I had to stop about halfway up. My legs were definitely feeling weak and I was nauseous. I nibbled on a frozen pop tart. The wind shoved my back. Guess I should just keep moving. The wind was just steady across the ridge all day. It would be this way for the rest of the trip. I reached the little wood sign and the top of Kings. All down hill from here. No, seriously. The constant breeze across my face started to dry out and move my right contact. I tried adjusting. I tried crying. A moments relief and then right back to the blow dryer of mother nature. I was progressing well along the ridge, but I was now seeing little rainbow halos in one of my eyes. The waning moon was not much help and I think my headlamp was fading. But twilight is right around the corner. So I held on. Nauseous. Weak. Feeling drunk. Bashing my feet. Stumbling and tripping down the ridge. North Emmons! Almost done. Twilight starting. Just get this done Joe. Just a thousand foot climb up to Emmons, then quick South Emmons, then the descent approach to the finish. Spirits high. Feet killing me. I welcomed the sun to the day on top of Emmons. For the first time in a long time, I felt like, “I got this!” I quickly moved over to South Emmons, with a desired pace increase. I would be done soon. However; the welcoming of daylight lead to another unforeseen problem. In the dark, the right eye was mildly annoying. With the extra daylight, now my vision suffered. I was struggling. My depth perception off. If I looked up to see the route out in the distance, it was just a blur. But it didn’t matter, I had done this exit route three times before. I got this. I was a little off course, but close enough. I pulled out Gaia. That doesn’t make sense. No wait. Its upside down. No. North is that way. Shit, I can’t read this map right now. Just go. So I stomped thru the forest. It was close enough to my line. But I lost my mojo. My feet killing me. My eye annoying me. And now, my brain; “This isn’t perfect so fuck it” “Hey, there’s the Trail.” “Why are you still walking?” RUN. Jogging along. My feet screaming with every step. At least I’ll be done BAM. On the ground. My wrist ached. Get up, keep moving before the pain sets in. Swift Creek is a trail. But like most of the Uintas, it is rocky, sandy, loose, and requires your attention. Unable to focus my vision, I kept tripping. This lead to me walking a lot. I was done. Over this adventure. But come on. Hurry up. The sooner you’re done, the sooner you’re done. I reached the sign, took a picture. 27:37:47 Kind of just petered out, disappointing. When I hit South Emmons at 23:45, I thought, “Wow, I can make sub 27 hours” Oh well. I guess maybe next FEET. Owe. I bolted for the van. I opened the door and crashed. Legs up, shoes off. My feet have never hurt that much. I think, only after the AT was I this deeply fatigued. I felt better mentally, for I had “done it” But it was not smooth nor pretty. For the next three days, I was barely energetic enough to shift positions when my body screamed out in pain. Yeah, Im not better. There is still something wrong with my body. I have been exhausted all week, every possible minute in bed, unable to do much more than a short walk. Thursday, I got the aches, chills, fever that has come and gone all summer. I don’t know what to do anymore. I have sunk back into my hopeless depression again. It’s weird though. I don’t want my life to end. I do keep having feelings/dreams about my death, which is scary and uncomfortable. But I just want to be healthy. And Im optimistic that someday, it will just click. Ill be better. And forget all about it. Or it won’t. Only thing to do is keep on L.I.V.I.N. The Utah Thirteeners is a sweet route. Thanks to my friends Tom Goth and Jason Dorais for coming up with it, pioneering and putting it on the map! You should check it sometime. My love for the Uintas has grown even more. I cannot thank Kym enough for being there for me. For being my rock. For making my life substantially better. Love you! And, I realize, Im addicted. Addicted to focused movements on complex route finding objectives. I think I just love being focused. And I love mountains. So put me at a desk with a task in the mountains. But there’s more to it. The physicality. Somehow, the increased effort, heart rate, exertion, raises my focus and awareness. Like the hairs standing up on the back of the neck.