Darrington and Marblemount

First Mon to Fri on the jogger is in the books

1/4

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Dan for meeting me at a random GPS coordinate 2 hours from Seattle with tent stakes, white gas, inner tubes and larabars tonight. Andrew from Darrington Hardware who let me change my tubes in their back mechanic area (plural… I had a leak in both by the time I got there). The lady who stopped and reversed her truck after passing me to ask if I wanted a ride (I was already just about at my campsite). More feedback and comments from you all, it’s especially fun to read after returning to service from camping.

Langdon Ernest-Beck and Jeff Hashimoto for providing inspiration for this trip. They climbed the Bulger 100 tallest Washington peaks this summer in 107 days traveling to all of them on bicycle. As I get closer to the mountains, their achievement stuns me more and more.

STORY

Today I woke up thinking I had hit an impasse. My stroller tire was flat. I planned to turn around and head back in the direction I came from to buy an inner tube. I checked the weather for the day and then realized I had to think about that too. Did I mention it was raining?

Finally I stopped thinking for a minute and got moving. I put on my rain jacket and went outside. The rain died down a bunch and it felt nice. It occurred to me that the leak in the tire was pretty slow. I realized I could probably run with it and stop every so often to fill up the air. I saw that in fact there was one last hardware store in the direction I wanted to go before hitting the mountains. I called them and they had a tube in my size. So I decided to keep going in the original direction. I packed up my wet tent, loaded it in my wet backpack, and tied the backpack onto my wet baby jogger.

I pumped up the tire and was off (after a lengthy stop in the Oso General store bathroom). I kept a close eye on the clock. I thought I’d have a chance of making it to my original campsite if I moved fast and made efficient pit stops (literally to pump up the tires). I started running on the Whitehorse trail and had a flashback to the Power Rangers action sequence when they would call on the powers of the Eagle and Wolf or something. Instead of invoking the powers of spirit animals I invoked the powers of my family members.

I thought of Pop Pop aka Don Karp who told me the last time I was with him that he lived his whole life on a strict schedule. I thought of my uncle who has helped countless people write their stories. I thought of my dad who taught mountain leadership school. Suddenly I was overcome with emotion and I started balling my eyes out uncontrollably. I thought of my mom who took a job at MTV despite her parents telling her it’d be the worst mistake of her life. I thought of my aunt who made it on Wall Street in the 80s. I thought of my aunt who ran away from home and found one on the road at the age of 16. And the tears kept coming.

Every single one of my family members took massive risks in order to carve their own paths. As I forged through the rain with my leaky baby jogger to get to the last hardware store before the mountains, I felt the fear, the courage, and the will to succeed that my mom, dad, aunts, uncles, and grandparents each must have felt and experienced in their own journeys before me.

For miles I cried. Even now just recounting the experience I’m welling up with emotion. Whatever it is I’m doing out here— pushing a baby jogger, exploring, writing— is not only not the exception, it’s the rule. This is my family’s way and the American way. We venture out and blaze our paths.

Related tangent: I once mentioned fear of the unknown to Wally. He said there’s no such thing as fear of the unknown. The unknown is blank. “This is my canvas. Imma paint it how I want it” (J Cole).

I ended up getting the pit stops down to a science. I could run for 20 minutes before it would deflate and then I could do my pit stops in about 4 minutes. I ran like that for 16 miles and got to Darrington Hardware around 1:20pm. They had two tubes in my baby stroller sizes. I took both and six caramel cream candies (which I haven’t seen since I was at my grandma’s house in Florida over a year ago). Andrew led me to the back garage area where I got to change out both tires. Then he grabbed me neosporin and bandaids when he saw my bloodied hands from fighting the tire.

from the hardware store, I stopped in the grocery store and bought a corn dog and raspberry turnover for lunch along with some groceries. I left and ended up making it to my original planned campsite after all.

Dan found me there after driving two hours from Seattle just to drop off the stakes for the tent plus white gas, more inner tubes and larabars.

1/5

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Naresh, the owner of my Airbnb who let me show up a day early and has a shockingly nice space for a great price. Mike Cassidy for picking up my Volvo in Seattle today and driving it to Portland where it will “lay low” for the time being. The guy in the pick up truck who asked me if he wanted me to run down the other guy in the pick up truck who blew fumes in my face. More aches and pains body oil from Tiara. The first day it just went on my knees, then my feet. Now I’m coating my entire lower half in the aches and pains oil 🦵🏼

ROAD THOUGHTS

1. Every time I eat a crunchy nature valley bar while running, I yell, “time to salt the road!”

2. i have come to believe there are only three food groups for my current situation: sugar, salt, and calories. Sugar gives you energy to move right now. Salt gives you nutrients and electrolytes to make your brain sharp. And calories are the life substance that keep the lights on, eating those is like paying the electric bill. A good example of a food that has all three food groups is skippy peanut butter.

3. i may be a Jew from New Jersey but I got a red neck too

4. I’m really liking the advice “don’t celebrate the small wins,” which I heard on the Rich Roll podcast. If I celebrated all the small wins, I wouldn’t be able to stick to a schedule. Just celebrate the real wins

STORY

Fifth straight day of running. I got off to a quick start, waking up at 7 and running a few minutes before 9. Pop tart and a strudel waffle thing for breakfast during my warmup mile.

My body finally started accumulating some nagging issues with my knees and feet, but nothing was going to stop me from getting to Marblemount today.

About an hour into the run, you guessed it, I got another flat! I stopped to pump it up and the tire was flat again within 10 minutes.

I took the tire off the wheel and held it up to my cheek and ear— a trick I learned when I worked as a bike mechanic. The touch nerves in your cheek are a lot more sensitive than your hands so it’s easier to feel subtle leaks and then confirm with your ear (conveniently next to your cheek). I found the hole right away, a little puncture and patched it.

Of course I did the patch wrong, and the tire was flat again 30 minutes later. I looked for a spot to pullover away from the “No Trespassing” signs. (Why do the crappiest houses have no trespassing signs? No one’s gonna steal your old disgusting rusted truck frame bro.) At this point a Trump sign and neatly mowed lawn is a welcome sight compared to the “Jo and the Ho gotta go” and “trespassers will be shot” signs.

I changed the tube and prayed that this would be my third and final one. From that point I ran to Rockport and finally Marblemount where I have an Airbnb at the Chevron station here. The Airbnb has a private bathroom, full kitchen access, free laundry, and tons of space to spread out and dry my gear. I’m sharing the space with the brother of the owner of the gas station. They are an Indian family who moved from Everett 2 months ago to take it over (hey I ran through there!)

I will take a rest day tomorrow. My internal Napoleon wants to push ahead so badly that I’ve almost completely forgotten this isn’t a race. The adventure is designed to stay fun and non-competitive: I have no boss, am far removed from any city rat race, and don’t even have a specific objective for this adventure. Yet, somehow, even after deliberately stripping away social and societal pressures, I still got convinced that I’m racing.

Body and health come first. I might benefit from repeating the mantra, “I’m a writer not an athlete,” in my head. I fall into these modes of thinking where my body is just some input-output function, and the goal is to maximize output with no regard for how healthy or happy it is.

By a miracle the upriver tap room was open and I got a nice hot meal along with some badly needed time to sit in a social environment.

Well that’s a wrap on my first M-F on the job with the baby jogger. Somewhere between 110 and 120 miles of running. It feels like a lifetime has passed.

Looking forward, tomorrow I will prep for my first baby jogger ski trip.