Stagger on regardless

 Saturday did not go well for me.

It's actually been rather a crap week since, but for different reasons.

I had got to bed very late on Friday, and - as follows - woke up exhausted and a bit later than I could really make jive with running down to the market. I mean, it was only 9:30am...but I'm a little creaky in the morning, and it takes me around an hour and a half just to get out the door, and over and hour to run down there. The market closes at 1pm. The math was definitely not on my side, so we just got up and drove down there to get our groceries instead.

I am trying to build a bit of mileage now that the 100 in 100 is over, so I wanted to get at least 10mi in, and I knew a place that would be easy to do so: Dundas Valley. I hadn't been down there since Leftovers back in November, and we have a membership with Hamilton Conservation until early May, so it seemed ideal. I knew that 10mi there wouldn't come easy, though (and I secretly hoped to get more like 20km in), so I would need to equip myself for up to 3-ish hours of trail time. That meant filling up my hydration pack, and lots of snacks.

Oh, and spikes. Definitely spikes.

I went to put the full bladder into my pack, and discovered it was leaking from the quick-disconnect valve where the hose meets the bladder. Not bueno; it wasn't below freezing, but I still didn't want my precious hydration escaping and soaking my back. I have another bladder - which does have its own hose, but it's absurdly long, and I don't like the drinking valve on it - with the same quick-disconnect, so I tried filling it and snapping in the hose. Success! It popped in like it was made for it, so off we went...after grabbing a headlamp as well, because we were well past the time I had wanted to leave, and I'd be up against it to finish up before dark.

Of course the portajohn was gone from the parking lot, and the trail centre was closed despite it not being quite 4pm yet

Emerging from the car, I was happy I'd grabbed a fleece skirt to wear over my tights, and had packed a wind jacket in my bag - the sun was disappearing behind thin cloudcover, and the wind had picked up significantly. I donned my spikes, realizing I'd brought the multiply-broken set instead of the nearly brand-new ones I'd bought in case I was going to do something "a little longer, like a Sulphur loop", 'cause I'm smart like that. Then I trotted off into the trails, grateful I had any kind of traction at all on the glare ice.

I'm one of the only people I saw there who did, and let me tell you the others didn't fare too well.

Not having been down at DVCA for anything other than a race in quite awhile, I took the luxury of hooking right onto the Deer Run, which quite often lives up to its name. I'd not gone a kilometer yet and rather needed to find a quiet spot to, umm, add some nitrogen and phosphorus to the local ecology. Plus, I was thirsty - doesn't that always seem to be the way? All the hydration problems at once! So, I grabbed my hose and took a good long pull of...air?

I tried again, with more vigour. I got more air. I came to the spot where the trail splits, where a 4x4 post with a location marker is driven into the ground, and hung my pack up on the post. It seems the male connector of my hose wasn't quite long enough to depress the spring that actually releases the water from the bladder in the quick-connect valve; when I tried to push it in further, it began to leak, and wouldn't stay anyway.

I had no water. I was getting chilled by the wind as I was dressed for a run, not standing in the damp, melting woods with the wind blowing over the snowpack. I was despondent, and strongly considered just messaging Tank to tell him I give the heck up, then going home and hiding under a blanket fort for the rest of the day.

I did not do that. 

I did message Tank to say I had a problem, and started running back toward the trail centre, where I met up with him. I explained the issue, and my proposed solution: instead of one long loop, I'd grab my bike bottle out of the car - the one I always bring along, from which you've probably seen me drink a million times if we've hung out together anywhere other than on an actual race course - and just carry it with me, looping back to the car to refill from the giant 1.5L nalgene of water we brought along with us.

That one, with the Brooks "Run Happy" rubber bracelet around the top

Tank gave me the car key and said he'd wait for me, so I ran back to the parking lot, ditched the useless bladder, filled my bottle, and left a single door unlocked in case I needed to refill and he wasn't back from his hike yet. I'd already tried the spigot by the tracks, and it was (as expected) still shut off for the winter. I knew that carrying my bottle with no strap or anything was going to suck, and I had lost even more daylight, but damnit I wasn't ready to give up!

A change of plans is not a failure - refusing to adapt is.

There were sights to see!

I bopped around the main loop until the Heritage Trail, noting that now the main Bruce Trail seems to head that was instead of continuing around the main loop (which is now considered side trail, with blue blazes). Not sure when that happened, but I knew where I wanted to go anyway!

..and stood at least a 60% chance of getting there without sliding off a cliff.

Fortunately my spikes held up on the ice, and I made it to Canterbury Falls without incident. 

Though I declined to go wandering out onto the sketchy rock that gives the best view due to icy conditions and my spikes not affording much grip on bare stone

I slurped back a maple syrup based gel packet as I paused to listen to the rushing water beneath the ice, then got on my way. I wasn't enjoying carrying the bottle: it made it awkward to take photos as I don't like having both my hands full, and my right thumb gets cranky if I have to grip anything for any length of time, but it was better than no water.

Or no run!

For my next trick, I would try not to die while descending a set of iced up stairs in the woods.

But not that kind of stairs in the woods

Not without reason - at the other end of these (plus over a couple of hundred metres of rather gnarly, rocky trail) lies gold!

Behold Sherman Falls!

I noted that I'd now drained more than half of my bottle of water, so should probably head back to the car post-haste to refill. I also noted that the wooden bridge spanning the stream below the falls - which had been closed when last I was there - was now completely gone!

More's the pity - it had the absolute best view of the falls

I had planned to just book it down Artaban Road and hit the Monarch Trail back to the main loop, as I knew the Sulphur Creek crossover trail would likely be icy death and falling into a ravine full of fallen trees and broken limbs was definitely not the icing I wished to add to my cake of disappointments for the day. As I passed by it, though, it didn't look so bad..

I remembered at Leftovers it seemed some reconstruction work had made the whole thing a bit less narrow and sketchy, too

So - for no good reason at all - I went for it. 

Things did not improve as I descended.

WHYYYY

I don't mind running down an icy surface in my spikes - you land with approximately three times your bodyweight when running downhill, so those steel points are driven into the crust and provide excellent traction. This is much less the case if you're trying to gingerly pick your way down. 

And that whole "wider and less sketchy thing" was apparently very much wrong

The worst was the last section, where there weren't even any exposed roots - just the occasional tree to cling to, as I've done in the past when it was mud slicking the hill instead of ice. Trying to carefully kick my spikes into the ice with one foot, while also trying not to move too much weight off the uphill foot that is still holding..

Yeah, I'm a weenie. I know this. I accept this.

I did manage to make it down without falling - or even resorting to butt sliding, which is always an option on the table - and onto the bridge over Sulphur Creek below.

Didn't die!

At this point, I just had to climb the river of ice that was the Sulphur Creek Trail, survive another steep downhill on an unknown surface, then I'd be back on the main loop quite close to the car. I was almost out of water, so I tried to hustle as best I could.

On terrain not well suited to hustling

The sun actually came out as I crested the highest point, and began a muddy descent on the far side.

Deep breath

It was quite astonishing how much melting had happened at the higher elevations in the park, compared with the hard plate of ice in other spots.

Sometimes only a handful of metres apart

Back to the main loop and out past the trail centre, I found Tank already back at the car...but I'd only done 10km, and the sun was dropping fast.

Though I did finally get my lap in on the Deer Run!

I scarfed back a little Halloween packet of fuzzy peaches (which turned out to be much smaller than the proper ones, and much harder despite having been kept warm in a pocket against my chest), filled my bottle, then ran away again.

With the golden sun lighting up the Spring Creek Trail

The universe wasn't cooperative, but I was getting it done!

I tried to draw on my knowledge of the Tally in the Valley course for my next loop, but knew I didn't want to do either the rail trail or an out-and-back if I could avoid it...so I hit the John White Trail over to Sawmill, and looped back around that way.

The pine forest on Sawmill is a much different place in winter!

Of course I hit mud as I reached the top of a hill, and had to hope my spikes would hold..

I think the only time I've had a non-muddy run at Dundas Valley was a Sulphur training run at -15c

My spikes held, all right - held 10lbs of mud apiece!

I could only pray there was enough of the spikes sticking out to grip the ice that was to come, as that mud did not want to come out!

The sun had all but set as I came through another section of pine forest, very gloomy in the fading daylight..

Not enough to need a headlamp yet, but getting close

Emerging into more open, deciduous forest again, I was surprised to find I wasn't the only one on the trails!

I could only get a lousy photo of her, and even worse ones of her 3 companions

Back to the car again as I'd somehow managed to drink 3/4 of my bottle in just 4km, and I still needed another 2k as I was bloody well set on getting 10mi in! With one last full bottle, a sore hand from carrying it, and a sore ankle from the beating it had taken on the lumpy ice all afternoon, I trotted past the trail centre one more time to hit the main loop in the opposite (clockwise) direction from which I'd started. I ended up at a spot past the end of the Sulpur Creek Trail that I'm not sure I've ever been to before.

Though it's clearly a popular spot

..and I can see why!

I turned around there, knowing I'd get the mileage I wanted by the time I got back, and as I forced my tired legs into a run I once more heard a distinctive jingle from my right foot. I'd broken another stinkin' link in my spikes!

It's always the same spot - this is the 3rd link to go

Twilight was falling as I reached the parking lot: another 5 minutes and I'd have needed the headlamp I'd carried with me all day, and I'd already been tempted to throw on my wind jacket as the temperature had dropped. I was muddy, smelled terrible, and was both sore and exhausted...but I got 16.5km in, and didn't give up.

Also: saw pretty things!

Not every day is going to go your way, but you always have a choice: you can let it derail you entirely, or you can find a way 'round. It certainly wasn't the run I had in mind when I planned to hit Dundas Valley, but it certainly was an adventure!