Mountain Daytrippin'

It's Scruffy, the mountain dog!

The road to the Continental Divide Trail race site.

Heath, Stella, and Scruffy the dog.

We made our way to the moutains today for a little pre-race prep daytrip. The race site is a surprising one driveway away from Papa and HeHe's cabin, so a friend and I are headed up there on Friday afternoon. We will be running the Continental Divide Trail Race 10k next Saturday morning. I would ramble on about the challenge of this particular race (running up a mountain on a trail, across rock, roots and craggy terrain galore) and the phenomenal people who will be running it, and how it scares the daylights out of me, but Mark made it to Redbox this evening and found Ben Stiller's Greenberg, so I will have to catalog my nervousness another night.

While my parent's humble mountain abode boasts no running water (that includes a potty, folks), or air conditioner, and may or may not have some loose bear and wildcats roaming about, it does offer an incredibly close proximity to the race, a couple of beds, a door that will keep the bears away, and a whole lot of fans. In an effort to make up for the lack of creature comforts for me and my trail pal, I figured I could at least provide fresh sheets, well-stocked paper products, a clear idea of where we are and where we are going, and very tidy race headquarters.

So we loaded up water jugs and the kids and made our way to Laurel Springs. Heath was particularly excited to see Sam and Scruffy, our beloved mountain dogs. Sure enough, as we plodded our way to Laurel Creek guess who came a callin'? Scruffy! The kids were thrilled. But Heath immediately asked Scruffy if Sam would show up. I don't think Scruffy gave him an answer. But Sam never showed up. I tried to put a positive spin on Sam's no-show. He's napping. He's eating lunch. Maybe he's visiting his Papa. But I know the shelf-life of a mountain dog ranges from 25 years to never made it across Highway 18.

Heath settled on the nap answer to Sam's absence. Must've been because he was tired from the good hike. Yet, surprisingly, no naps were taken on the LONG WAY HOME. I am relieved that we have no "with children" road trips in our near future. In terms of backseat whining, my rope has ended. Just a mommy trip to run over a river and through the woods and up a mountain and over some boulders.

I have two hopes for this race: 1) I don't get trampled by the professionals on the trail. 2) I don't get eaten by a bear.