Stalked

Slow down! Steep downhill ahead!

7:15pm on a Friday night with a phone call that ended in, "Yeah! Lets go mark the course now!" Jesse met me in a Whole Foods parking lot where we grabbed sandwiches, coconut water, and coffee.  The plan to mark the race course in the morning was out the window with a last minute technicality we hadn't prepared for. At 8:04pm we were caravanning out to Tillamook Forest for some middle of the night adventuring. Both capable, and very willing, we didn't question what we were about to do as long as we had each other to rely on for course knowledge and the safety of a buddy.

9:30pm and we were headed out loaded with cones, tape, and a couple signs to stake into the ground warning of more dangerous downhill sections to come. Fast forward with one burly climb mostly behind us, and catching up with each other on what adventures we've been up to since the last time we saw each other, and it was roughly 10:30pm. We jaunted along and admired what a stellar fall night it was to be out here. Twisting and turning along the more runnable terrain when all of a sudden Jesse comes to an abrupt halt that I just barely skirted around avoiding a friendly crash collision. "HEYYYY!! HEYYYYYYYYY!" Jesse roared, and in the skip of a heart beat I was locking eyes with the cat just yards up the trail in front of us. Its eyes illuminated by the glare of our headlamps, and its ears perked in a sort of curiosity that expressed interest in what type of meat we may be. FUCK.

The logbook before the cat. So excited!

Jesse roared, "GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!" I looked around for anything to use that would inflict physical damage if we were charged. Thanks to the damp Pacific Northwest, the sticks I grabbed merely bent under any force I applied. Jesse turned around quickly, found the winning stick, and cracked it over his knee handing me the other half. Arms over head, and screaming like wild banshees, we took steps forward. The cat wandered off up into the hills. We both looked at each other in total bewilderment of what we just encountered. Having been all over this trail for our own training runs a plethora of times, this was a first. Keep moving, keep yelling, and blow that whistle like your survival depends on it. We walked. The more you run when a cat has keyed in on you, the more you look like a tasty morsel worth following. Our eyes scanned the trail in all directions looking for its presence. At 12:07am we were captains logging in the summit book of what we'd seen, and I had just enough service to get a call out to the race director letting him know our kitty cat was on the trail.

Shortly after coming down off the summit we were becoming more and more confident we were in the clear. The grip on my dagger stick loosened, and more light hearted conversations began. We were even comfortable enough to make jokes about a mountain lion encounter in the middle of a Friday night. Our legs began moving their normal running speed again as we kept laying confidence markers on the trail making sure no racer was getting lost on our dime. Jesse had a few chuckles at the fact I may be classified as an "over marker." We were talking about travel goals and other shenanigans when Jesse came to the familiar, abrupt halt again. As soon as my momentum came to its stop, my ears caught the sound of something on the ridge above our trail making the same stop under crunching bushes. The new realization was the cat had indeed been tracking us and was potentially about to make its move right here, in the middle of our future travel plans conversation.

Logbook after the cat. Less excited. 

Jesse was enraged. His guttural roar was back in full force. This time his commentary was something you wouldn't want your mother to here, and horror movie dialogue that would make you feel like you were toast. I was even intimidated. We hauled rocks as far as our arms could throw up into those trees. The whistle firmly planted against my lips, I knew I couldn't yell the way Jesse could, I blew so hard that my surroundings were silenced as my eardrums were paralyzed with internal ringing. I had stayed calm, cool, and collected until this very moment where I had no idea what that cat's intentions with us were. My heart beat elevated pounding through my bony chest, and my breath escaped me. Jesse looked back knowing I may lose it, and firmly stated, "Stay focused Jenn." He was absolutely right. I truly can't comprehend what the situation would look like had either one of us experienced this solo. We walked, and the grasp on my dagger was back to its white knuckled normal.


It was late, and already past the time we had anticipated being finished. My eyes fixed on every bit of trail around me. Where the hell was this thing, and how had it managed to follow us over the crazy path we were traveling without being noticed even once until now? Cats are amazing predators, and have a stealth that I wouldn't ever appreciate until these very moments. "This is fucked up." We were both vulnerable and pissed. The two of us were exhibiting aggressive tendencies I didn't think existed within our personal characters.  I took deep breaths and tried to keep calm under this intense fear of unknown and our own exposure out here. "HEYYYYYYYYYYYY! RAWWWWRRRRRRR! GOOOOOOO!" It was now posted up just in its position of choice just yards up from us on the trail. It's one thing to hear the thing in the woods, but as soon as it presents itself, your mind runs wild with worst case scenarios while in the same breath, your body reaction is somewhat stunned. Arms up over head and I began blowing the whistle so hard that I hoped my sounds would reach Jeff who was much further east fishing on the Metolius. Jesse had two pointed rocks in each hand and he was ready to kill the cat that had spent its night toying with our the state of our psychological health.

The friendly newt that helped calm nerves.

Once the cat had wandered back into the hills, this would be the final time we see it. The miles we agreed would be walked from here to finish, took hours. It was 4am by the time we were back to the safety Jesse's car that promised shelter from the now downpour, and the cat that was probably still on our terrified tails. We processed what we could before making the trek back to our  homes, where once I had fallen asleep, had returning nightmares of the cat. What a freaking  night run for two people who are typically unfazed by the the potential of risk involved. Being with Jesse out there in that situation taught me humbling, valuable lessons about knowing how to react and think clearly when you're in the face of immediate danger, and respecting territory that truly isn't yours. Know your nocturnal hunters! Always carry a whistle, always bring along a night time buddy, because if it's not cats it's weirdos, and never underestimate your mountain surroundings. Heaven forbid it's ever Squatch you encounter when out for an evening run through the woods! My resting heart rate has returned to me, and all is well. Happy trails!

(Disclaimer- No race participant was lost due to our exceptional course markings. Winning.)

Forty Seven Hours Twenty Nine Minutes Later

Selfie cred: Darcy Piceu

We loaded up Amiga with the gear we knew would support our days of adventure to come, sent off our, "here we come!" selfie,  and headed south for Tahoe. Our road trip down I-5 was business as usual with a stop at Sequential Biofuels for the best snacks before crossing state lines. On the radio, our genuinely loved road trip essence playlist, and two dogs letting their ears and jowls flap in the wind as their heads dangled curiously out the back windows.

Jeff and I talked adamantly about how excited we were to have this opportunity to help our friend Krissy as she chased down her goal of setting the supported FKT on the Tahoe Rim Trail. Jeff's enthusiasm was something like that of the boy who just found out he's probably getting the coveted Red Ryder for Christmas,  where mine was more like, "Holy shit, I get to run with the woman I consider my spirit animal in the sport of trail running, and a woman I've felt truly encapsulates the strength, determination, beauty and courage that inspires me as a female ultra runner." I could hardly wrap my mind around being a source of help amongst the full crew of amazing humans also passionate about helping her reach the finish line under her 48 hour time goal. FKT attempts never have guaranteed success, and there are so many variables to consider in planning that could potentially go wrong, but as we got closer and closer to Tahoe, something deep inside of me told me she was going to do this.

The Gellin solution to a lot of coffee

After spending a night with the Boggess family on their beautiful ranch, with their amazing hospitality for weary travelers and dogs, we loaded up basecamp supplies into a suburban and began the caravan to Big Meadows. We rolled through the campground with the frequency levels of Jack's bark piercing our eardrums and announcing our arrival, making sure any peaceful camp vibes were surely interrupted. Krissy and crew were kicked back in camp chairs around Ma an Pa Moehl's RV.  Within minutes we were all catching up with friends we haven't seen for awhile, and making new friends which honestly, is just way too easy to do in the world of trail running. I glanced around and realized what a rockstar crew Krissy had wrangled together. To my right we have Darcy Piceu, don't need to elaborate much there, Kathleen Egan, the world traveler and compassionate animal lover,  Gina Lucrezi, the girl who makes you laugh just by being in her presence, Fred Marmsater, badass adventure photographer who would document all of this experience, Neil Baker, good PDX running pal who is there to create a story for his new magazine soon to to be in print, Jeff Boggess of the one and only Trail Butter, the most delicious nut butters currently in existence (I'm not bias), Monica Ochs, dear friend of Krissy's, and Jeff Fisher, you know, the naked butt guy in all of Paul Nelson's running photos?! Joining us the following day would be Gary Gellin, knower of all things even remotely trail running related, and pioneer of the eighteen cups in one batch coffee method, accompanied by Ross Donihue of Maps for Good. Between Gary's overall love for maps, his extreme knowledge of the trail after his own FKT attempts, and Ross's ability to create maps (he is after all a cartographer), those two were a serious addition of humor, energy and expertise in the aid this crew provided for Krissy.

Girl power!
Myself, Gina Kathleen, Krissy, Ma, Darcy, and Monica 

The pre FKT meeting began shortly after breakfast that morning. I can't tell you how impressive it is to watch Krissy's planning abilities unfolding before your eyes. She's so meticulous in preparation that all we had to do was absorb what she was telling us and start organizing where gear went and which crew car got what supplies. Myself personally, was so worried about not being this type of planner that I was destined to screw something up. Just before the trip Jeff and I had exchanged emails with Darcy because we knew she had extensive intel on what Krissy may need out there based on their running history together. Darcy definitely reassured my nerves when she just laughed and told us that in no way was she a "planner," either. Great! Two negatives always make a positive. I chose not to overthink any detail oriented planning after exchanging these words with her.

Man power! Pa Moehl, Neil, Fred, Jeff B, and Jeff Fisher

Gear fest
Photo cred: Jeff Fisher 

Fred  relentlessly snapped photos as we bounced from tarp to tarp moving food, gear, and tampons into their newly designated, Ultraspire Titan packs.  Oh I'm sorry! Did I forget to mention that on top of worrying about the major logistics of how we'd all execute this thing, that our dear lady had started her menstrual cycle hours before start time? Guys, you have no idea what kind of wrench this may throw into the already grinding gears. Welcome to more ultra female badassery. Ok team, that's it. All systems go in t-minus twenty two hours. A few of us laced up and headed out for a final shakeout run before go time. The giddiness and overall energy of this group was infectious. I was in my element, and never better. Getting back to camp, dinner was being prepped, and cool beers allowed us to settle comfortably back into camp vibes. Krissy was mellow as a melon while Ma Moehl assigned us tasks in having dinner ready. I immediately understood where Krissy gets her efficiency from! Gary buzzed around trying to figure out if anyone wanted to check out the blood moon, and while the others finished up with dinner happenings, Jeff and I piled in with Gary and Ross to chase this supermoon that we never actually found, all the way into Nevada. The night quieted down and eventually, Krissy climbed into Simba (her Honda Element), Jeff and I climbed into Amiga, and extra tents were filled with anyone who wanted to take advantage of them. Sleep tight crew, you won't be for the next two days.

Darcy learning how to take over
 Krissy's social media.  

Dawn broke, and groggy eyed faces started poking out from their sleeping quarters. There was a quiet buzzing that began to bring basecamp to life. The morning sky was perfect while the air hung in peaceful stillness. Calm, cool and collected, we prepared for her 11am start time. Before we all knew it, cars were loaded up and we transported our girl to her start line. She danced around in pure anxious anticipation while we still had at least 15 minutes to go. Jeff and Gina strapped on their packs as they would carry her the first leg into Echo Lake, fifteen(ish) miles away. She hugged and thanked each and every one of us for being there, and spent the last moments in her parents arms. She took none of this experience for granted. It was time, and she was ready. 5...4...3...2...1... GO! Up and away her legs carried her while we cheered our brains out ready to follow along with her on this journey.

We gathered ourselves and hit the road that was planned for each crew car to travel. Knowing that Darcy and I would be by Krissy's side for the next 30, we loaded up on some Mexican food (always a great idea before running) to take with us to Echo Lake where we would await their arrival. Fred decided that consuming a burrito the size of a small child was the way to go before he joined us for the first seventeen miles of the Desolation Wilderness. About 30 seconds after his last bite he knew what his fate would be. No time for digestion, Krissy, Gina and Jeff were headed directly for our aid station! They came in whooping and hollering with Krissy's expression reading she was here on official business. A couple handhelds refilled, watermelon slices down her hatch, she was confident, and we were heading out.

Pigtail party into Desolation Wilderness
Photo cred: Fred Marmsater 

My mind was blown about every fifteen seconds as we ventured deeper and deeper into Desolation. If you didn't know, the Desolation Wilderness is the heaviest used wilderness area in the country, and this was the first time I was laying eyes on her.  Darcy stayed two steps ahead of Krissy while I stayed a few behind. In our Krissy sandwich, we passed her food, water, and trekking poles when she needed them. Fred bounded ahead of us trying to nab the perfect shot earning him the nickname, hammer ahead Fred. I could have sworn he may have been in better shape than all of us with the way he covered ground, back and forth and back. Unbelievably so, his burrito child managed to stay down... Probably because it was making its way out in other (stinky) ways.  Krissy looked back at me for a moment, "You okay girl?" My distraction with the scenery opened a bigger gap between us then I realized. I scamper back up to her when she says, "This part is why I brought you out here!" Then it hits me again. Holy shit. I'm running with Krissy and Darcy. It's not every day you find yourself smack dab in the middle of events you didn't realize to be tangible reality. I digress. We came into the station where the crew had hiked 5 miles in with supplies, cooked us mac n cheese, and like always, got Krissy in and out. We said goodbye to Fred who's burrito had finally given up the digestive fight, and off we went for the last 14 miles.

I don't suggest a back flop.
Photo cred: Gina Lucrezi

So it was, her pacers leap frogged each other as she was handed off like a baton to whoever she ran with in the sections to come. Jeff and Gina were up again after Darcy and I finished, followed by Jeff and Neil, followed by Monica and Kathleen, followed again by myself and Jeff, and to close it out for the finale, Darcy and Gina. Fred was constantly popping on and off course for the miles to capture the moments. The highs and lows, the sunrises and sunsets, the laughter, the cramping, the food that was shoveled into her mouth, and the Desitin that kept her lips moist and chaffing bearable. He crew teams worked diligently to stay alert, have her supplies ready when she needed, feed her jokes and stories as she pushed herself through those relentless miles. Gary was constantly bopping around the trail to access more remote locations he knew a bigger crew wouldn't be able to reach, refueling supplies, and then darting off again to let the rest of the team know her locations and when she was to be expected. At one point the next crew took over and Jeff, Darcy, Gina and myself headed for the lake. More specifically, a private beach we managed to not get ourselves kicked out of, and were able to relax and eventually take a dip. The dip was Darcy's idea, and believe me, we weren't going anywhere until we all partook.

Gina wins relaxation contest

She slept for 45 minutes over the entire 47 hours and 29 minutes she was out there. That was it. She kept her mind strong, and when she hit a low, she had her team to get her through it. To massage her aching foot, to give her back rubs, to carry enough toilet paper that we could have disguised ourselves as mummy's if needed, to remind her in the words of Dusty Olson, to "pull the string out" when the time came, and most importantly, keep ourselves strong so that she would always be able to rely on us for whatever she required. Yes, this crew got her to the finish line, but what we all got to see while she was out there enduring, was pure magic. We witnessed strength, we witnessed ferocious positivity, we witnessed willpower when times were harder, we witnessed kindness, compassion, vulnerability, discomfort, pain, exhaustion, and her capacity to always, no matter what, keep one foot moving in front of the other, come what may. Her status not only as an elite ultra running machine, but as a woman, a friend, a writer, a helper, a planner, and the truest representation of what oneself is capable of accomplishing when devoting themselves to achieving their goals, makes the essence that is Krissy, what we all desire to embody when we hit the trail. One can only be so grateful to experience humans like this throughout this magical thing we know to be life. They are our teachers, and push us to be better versions of ourselves. Our mentors that we look to when we know not the answers we seek.

Once Krissy had been handed off to Gina and Darcy, we knew it was time to head back to basecamp and wait for the next morning when she would cross her finish line. We all gathered at the trail head while Fred set up his camera, we set up her finishers chair, Jeff pulled out the tambourine, and we established an actual finish line in the dirt. Monica, Kathleen, Jeff B, Jeff F, and I headed a few hundred yards up the trail to run her in the last few feet of this journey. Minutes felt like hours as they crept by, and there it was. A flash of her white Patagonia jersey with Gina and Darcy flying in behind her. We roared! We roared as loud as we could to let her know she was home, and all at once she flew by as we joined and sprinted our legs off to be with her in those final moments. 47 hours and 29 minutes later, Krissy fell into the arms of her momma.

Each day we are capable of being who we want to be and leading the lives we want to live. Never stop chasing the dreams you have for yourself. Push your boundary's, get some dirt encrusted into your chafed bottom, eat that piece of cake, take that risk, but most importantly, write the story you want to read at your journey's end. Congrats to our dear friend Krissy in setting the new, supported female FKT on the Tahoe Rim Trail. You've got guts girl!

We did it! The Krissy crew of 2015