Pine Cobble run

Returning to another old favorite route, Jen and I scooted out to the far northwestern corner of Massachusetts to run at Pine Cobble (site #2 in my guidebook Trail Running Western Massachusetts). We were both feeling a bit fatigued, so it was more of a hike than a run, though to be fair the climbing portions there are just steep enough that they are always a bit more of a hike than a run ,at least for us.

We parked at the small lot off Pine Cobble Rd and followed the route described in the book pretty much to the letter, so I won't go into detail about the geography. The one deviation was that we did tack on the mile or so out-and-back on the AT north to the Vermont state line, which was an enjoyable roller coaster ride along the forested crest of the ridgeline. At the trail junction on the summit of Pine Cobble we ran into and chatted briefly with a young thru-hiker who was "slackpacking" for the day; she was from the Northampton area and seemed in good spirits. Other than her, we saw very few other people out there.

After the summit we dropped down the shatterfield of cool white quartz(?) rocks to the actual exposed sub-peak that I think is Pine Cobble proper. We had the views out across Williamstown to ourselves, but there were a couple of really annoying flies that eventually forced us off the peak. The descent is initially a bit rough as you drop down the rocky section of Pine Cobble Trail, but it soon smooths out some and becomes quite runnable, especially once you pass the triple-boled tree trunk that always seems to have a small pool of water in it. I really love the final mile or so of descent along this run.

We capped the day off with a dip in the "pool" at Mohawk Trail State Forest (where the parking situation was a bit silly), and dinner and drinks out on the patio at the Cold River Cafe in Charlemont. 

 The Cold River along Rte. 2

Windmill Ridge Run (Vermont)

My girlfriend Jen works for Vermont Land Trust. Based out of their Brattleboro office, she monitors conserved properties in the southern third of the state. About two years ago, early in her tenure there, she texted me a photo of a sweet section of trail along a forested ridgeline in western Westminster. She said it was all really nice, and we agreed that we’d need to make an adventurous trail running trip there sometime. 

On July 4, we decided to finally try out a long-overdue mid-distance (~10 miles) run up on the ridge. We got so lucky with conditions: the temperatures were very nice, clouds were occasional, and we only saw a few mosquitoes the whole time. We also got lucky with crowds; there was only one other car when we arrived, and a handful of people up on top of the Pinnacle. Otherwise the only other person we saw all day was a trail maintainer along the ridge just north of Holden Knob.

After grabbing some sandwiches to go at the Putney Co-op, we navigated up the pretty, winding back roads of Putney and Westminster to the base of a long north-south mountain called Windmill Ridge. We parked at the trailhead for the Holden Trail and got ourselves ready (acquired GPS signals, re-checked hydration packs, put on sunscreen, and determined that bug spray thankfully seemed unnecessary). We each wore regular running clothes and shoes, and carried water and snacks for the afternoon. Then we set out up the trail from the artistic gate.

kiosk and gate at the Holden Trail trailhead

The initial ascent is fairly easy, along a wide path at first and then along recently relocated singletrack that clearly was laid out by people who love trails as much as we do. In about 1.2 miles we reached the Pinnacle Trail along the crest of the ridge. Heading north from there, we jogged the mile or so up to the summit of The Pinnacle where there is a cabin and a fantastic westward view. Along the way the trail gently rises and falls, and generally contours organically over the landscape. Very nice for running. It was about 80 degrees, but the humidity was low and there was a light breeze. A few scattered clouds hung out on the horizon and occasionally passed overhead. And it was blissfully bug-free for a warm July day.

beautiful running

the sweetest spot

From the Pinnacle we continued north for a few miles to the network of trails below Paul's Ledges. We managed to hit most of them, including the surprisingly challenging Hemlock Trail. Staying on the right path required a little bit of attention to the map. Little did Jen know I had something else on my mind at that point, but we didn't get lost. Then climbed to the clearing at Paul's Ledges, where we found ourselves alone on a gorgeous afternoon. Not being able to ask for a finer overall moment to (finally) do it, I proposed to Jen on the spot. To my significant relief, she said yes =)

After sharing a celebratory Snickers bar (hey, if it works at the time..), we set off from our engagement spot and headed back south along the ridge. This time, just before reaching the Pinnacle we turned left and headed down the Holden Trail. It's clearly one of the older, and thus more eroded, trails there, but parts of it are still really fun to run.

Overall it was a great introduction to running the trails of the ridge, and we can't wait to go back and link up with other parts of it including Putney Mountain, and the Athens Dome area.

Windmill Hill Pinnacle Association map of this section of the ridge. 

the ridgecrest just south of The Pinnacle

final push up The Pinnacle

westward view out into southern Vermont

a key junction near the Pinnacle

along the ridge

Jen of VLT

why not here

I got her to smile

coming down

me on the runout, looking stiff as usual but feeling good

Jen in the last mile

a day of many signs

the full route

post-run swim spot

along the West River

and lastly, this little guy was waiting for us at home

Monroe Dunbar loop run

Returning to an old favorite, Jen and I headed out to Monroe State Forest in northwestern MA to run a slightly modified version of the trail race route there. The weather was ideal for running, if maybe a bit warm (but it was summer, so who's complaining), and best of all, there were hardly any bugs at all, of any kind (which is kind of a minor miracle at Monroe). And the crowds were amazingly minimal considering it was the start of the July 4 weekend.

Two notes about the route there. First the trail on the east side of the road that leads from the parking lot beneath the powerlines down to the picnic area has been more or less obliterated by a recent logging operation there. I'm glad I chose to put parking where I did for the suggested route in the guidebook. Second, there was a blowdown along the trail either last winter or spring about a quarter-mile west of the parking area. A big one. And it still hadn't been cut yet. You either had to go up and around it or try to pass through it. We did the former on the way out and the latter on the way back. Neither was easy.

Several miles along, just before we reached the second shelter, I stopped us short when I spotted a black bear in the trail just downhill from us. It moved off pretty quick and we never saw it again, but as always there's those dew moments where you wonder whether there were others around.

Jen at Raycroft Lookout

Before heading up to the summit, we took the spur trail over and down to Raycroft Lookout, which was totally worth it. The view was incredible, and makes you wish the CCC was still around doing stuff like that.

at the summit

The rest of the run was just... fun. Took our time getting to the top and lingering for a quick snack. Enjoyed our descent tremendously and we were happy to note that there were few blowdowns along the way, the intersection with the snowmobile trail seems better maintained now, and the sometimes-flooded section was mostly dry. The final mile before you reach Raycroft Road again is so runnable as you drop down a series of alternating benches and steeper pitches. 

 Descending along Dunbar Brook

The upper stream crossing was super easy and I cooled off there a bit. The descent of Dunbar Brook Trail was a spectacularly great as ever, and the final stream crossing was much easier than we anticipated given what several hikers have said (they must have tried to keep their feet dry or something). 

See my 2015 Monroe Dunbar Brook trail race report and links to past photo galleries here.

And here is a link to my guidebook, Trail Running Western Massachusetts (this is site #6 in the book).

The Latest Sugarloaf Sun

As mentioned in a previous post, I've been serving as the newsletter editor for my local running club, the Sugarloaf Mountain Athletic Club. The publication is called The Sugarloaf Sun. When I started the gig about a year and a half ago, it was supposed to be a 16-page journal every two months. But now, eleven exhausting issues later, there hasn't been a single one under 20 pages, and a few have approached 40. Basically, we put out a mini-magazine about running in western Massachusetts every two months. At 38 pages, this new issue is the longest one yet.

Take a look, especially if you live anywhere in the area, and let me know what you think. Here is a link to the latest issue.

And here is a list of back issues.

Shoe Review: Hoka Challenger ATR 2

No hyperbole: Hokas may have saved my running career. They looked like clown shoes to me at first, but before long the appearance meant little and the comfort of the cushioning stood out as the top attribute.

At my friend Jeff Hansen’s recommendation, I bought my first pair —the Challenger ATR—one day at the Northampton Running Company (now Marathon Sports). They were essentially the same shoe as the popular Clifton model but with a slightly more aggressive tread for trails. At the time, I was recovering (as often seems to be the case) from both a metatarsal stress fracture and a persistently nagging Achilles strain. 

Since the shoe came with what seemed like several extra inches of heel cushioning, I was able to alter my stride a little bit. Just the right amount, I think. A forefoot strike fell back to midfoot (and even a heel strike on downhills) without any discomfort or joint pounding. This slight shift took stress off the balls of my feet and reduced strain on my Achilles tendon. Within a few weeks both injuries had grown less painful. I realize this is just one anecdotal episode and I’m very wary of attributing too much causality without actual proof or evidence, but it’s hard for me to dismiss the coincidence. 

So now I’m running in the follow-up model, the Hoka Challenger ATR 2. And I can’t speak highly enough about it. Little things that had bugged me about the previous version were addressed. A small amount of extra padding was added to the uppers, particularly on the tongue, making the fit considerably more comfortable right out of the box. 

Hoka Challenger ATR 2s

Others have complained that the toe box is now too narrow, but for me it fits perfectly. Up to now, I’ve always run in ASICS (which have a reputation for being narrow in the forefoot) because they fit my feet like gloves—really comfy foot gloves. So if you’re a fellow narrow-foot type, you’re in luck.

For extra support, I added a pair of blue Superfeet inserts in place of the passable but fairly flimsy default ones, and that seems to be going well. No rub spots or chafing (though I’d recommend making your first run with any inserts be on the shorter side, just to be safe). 

The shoes are versatile. I wear them on both road and trail and the grip feels good all around. I suppose time will soon tell whether they’re good in hot weather. As for overall durability, I’m still assessing that. My first pair of Hokas lasted over 400 miles. When the newer pair got to 150 miles I noticed some disappointing tearing of fabric at the bend between midfoot and the toes, both on the inside and outside of the uppers; not thrilled about that. 

Of course, I still injure myself when I over-train or don’t stretch properly (two shamefully common phenomena). The Hokas don’t make me run any faster. They can’t make me seem intelligent. They do not regrow hair in my bald spot. And the whales still need saving. So no, they’re not miracle shoes. But by golly they do seem to come pretty close. At the moment, it seems they’re just what I need.

Mohawk Trail State Forest

This was supposed to be the day that I ran a 50-miler at Wachusett. Instead, I took three full weeks off with no heart-rate raising exercise to minimize scarring on my face after I had a spot of basal cell skin cancer removed, which saved me from, you know, cancer (on my FACE!), but pretty much wrecked my spring training. So Jen and I tried out a 10-ish mile trail run along the Mahican-Mohawk Trail in western MA instead.

We'd run the "main loop" at Mohawk Trail State Forest before, as part of researching my guidebook Trail Running Western Massachusetts, but I'd never been on the section of Mahican-Mohawk Trail that leads west from the summit of Clark Mtn. and goes several miles over to the "village" of Drury, MA, near the top of the climbing along Rte. 2. I'd heard that the trail is really nice there, and we'd seen that some bridge work had been done recently in the woods just beyond where it crosses Rte. 2, and wanted to check it out.

We parked at the big gravel lot along Rte. 2 on the south side of the Cold River, crossed on the bridge, and headed right on the dirt road at the gate. The M-M Trail, which at present doesn't exist as an actual trail between here and just east of Shelburne Falls, officially starts at a trail sign where a hiking path leads left into the woods. About 2 minutes in, we arrived at a new trail junction. Since I had created the book profile for this site, a new link trail has been established connecting this spot to the Thumper Mtn. Trail (I'll have to go back and map it for the QR code map; look for a revised map soon!).

Crossing the meadow on the Mahican-Mohawk Trail. 

We followed the book route all the way around and up to the saddle between Todd and Clark mountains (note: the section through the woods just beyond the open meadow below Todd Mtn. is poorly blazed at the moment, and you will wonder if you are still on the trail; you are, just keep going). From the saddle we turned west and climbed up and over Clark Mountain and then got to the new (for us) stuff. 

After the grueling ascent to the saddle between Todd and Clark Mountains. 

The trail drops gently over the backside of Clark, traverses along the upper west slop a bit, and then drops steeply down some switchbacks. It bottoms out at and crosses Wheeler Brook (a tributary of the Cold River) beneath some conifers, then rises up a slope on the other side as it continues west. 

Hay-scented fern glade along the Mahican-Mohawk Trail to Drury.

From there the trail climbs to another high spot along a forested shoulder of the ridge, then drops again and traverses the slope to a series of new bridges and boardwalks along an old woods road network just southeast of Drury. Then the trail pops out at and crosses Rte. 2. We checked out the new bridgework on the the other side then reversed our run back to the Todd/Clark saddle. 

Running Without a Net

We don’t get a lot of opportunities for extreme exposure here in western Massachusetts. Not the way you do up in the White Mountains or out west in the Rockies or Sierras. The magazine covers and clickbait photos featuring runners up on scary-looking escarpments or gliding along the edges of too-technical precipices aren’t exactly our standard geography wheelhouse. BUT, we do occasionally have our moments.

An example: the local trail running community as a whole LOVES Mt. Tom, and the Metacomet-Monadnock (M-M) Trail (also a part of the New England Trail) along the summit ridge in particular. For nearly two miles the trail hugs the western edge of the mountain’s crest, sometimes edging right out to the top of the cliffs. Parts of it allow you to run fast and parts require you to use your hands to scramble up or down steep outcrops. Whether you consider it “fun” or not probably depends a lot on your personal comfort level with heights. But no one would deny it’s dramatic as all get-out.

Clifftop run on Mt. Tom

Another obvious example would be the handful of ledges along the Seven Sisters ridge across the river. Most of the route there is quite safe, albeit highly rugged and technical and challenging, but in a few spots the trail flirts with vertigo-inducing drop-offs and steep pitches. A bit further east in the Holyoke Range there’s another ledge near the top of Long Mountain that has a slightly similar feel.

Running right along the edge on Mt. Holyoke

Sometimes the dangerous sections don’t have sweeping views. In an area of Wendell State Forest known as Hidden Valley, an unnamed trail traces along the top of a steep cliff in a fully wooded setting. It’s not like running up the Angel’s Landing Trail in Zion national Park or anything, but the actual feeling is nearly as exhilarating. 

Other sites that come to mind where you can briefly court real danger or feel a surge of adrenaline on your run include: a short stretch in the open below the summit of Peaked Mountain in Monson; a thin fin of ridgecrest along the M-M Trail on East Mountain in Holyoke; Sachem Head in Greenfield; Spruce Hill along the Hoosac Ridge Trail in Savoy; “The Ramp” along the NET in Northfield (map); above Farley Ledge in Erving; and the AT on Jug End in Egremont.

at the summit of Spruce Hill in Savoy (Mt. Greylock across the valley)

Scenic vistas and view ledges are quite common in this area, but actual moments where you get to run along the edge of a high cliff and/or truly experience a thrilling moment where one wrong step could actually make all the difference are rare. My choice? Seek them. Find them. Run ‘em. Live.

Ben is the editor of The Sugarloaf Sun newsletter and author of the guidebook Trail Running Western Massachusetts.

Using a 50K as a "Training Run"

Playing around in the ultra world can skew your sense of scale. I completed my second 50K yesterday (I'm not counting my 9-hour hike at Massanutten in 1996, which I literally did in hiking boots; my feet were pulp afterwards), and I'm calling it a training run. Five or six years ago I might have doubted my ability to even do it, and today I'm downplaying it to the point of absurdity.

The big race I'm currently training for is a 50-miler at Mt. Wachusett on June 10. The schedule I'm using called for running a 50K around this time, so I chose to do Goat Hill in central MA (I photographed at it in 2016; see photo album here).

Since the plan said to run the 50K as a training run (and because I weigh about 15 pounds more than when I did my first 50K in 2013), I chose a goal time of 7 hours, about 45 minutes slower than my first 50K finish time. Given my current conditioning, I think that was a wise goal. I finished this one in 6:58:29, right on target.

Overall, the trails at The Goat were very fun to run (a phrase I use a lot, but when it works it works). There was a wide variety of them, but mostly it was forested, switchbacky mountain bike singletrack. The course consists of four 8-mile loops.  There's a quarter-mile long straight uphill climb at mile 1 that I chose to hike up for the most part, a muddy wet area to cross at mile 2, a super helpful aid station at mile 3, a level to rolling stretch at mile 4, a hyper roller coaster section at mile 5, a long, winding climb at mile 6, a super-fun, swoopy and runnable section with great flow at mile 7, and a fast, tightly twisted section followed by a fast drop to the finish at mile 8.

Loop 1: Felt great. Slightly fast. A bit of discomfort near the end, alleviated by a quick swing by the porta... you know what, never mind.
Loop 2: Still felt good. Similar late-loop discomfort to loop 1 (sigh).
Loop 3: Starting to drag a bit. Hotter out. Sunnier. Rolled an ankle near mile 22.
Loop 4: Jen joined me for this loop. The hill really hurt on this one. 2 miles in; there's a marathon. Lots more walking, and quite a few stumbles. Lifting muscles were DONE. Managed to jog it in the last few miles.

 

L: Snacking after loop 1.  R: The finish (obviously). 

[6/15/17 update]: Well, I wasn't able to do the 50-miler this year after all. I had a biopsy done on a spot on my cheek and it did come back as basal cell so in mid-May I had some Moh's surgery done down in Springfield to have it cut out. The surgeon did a great job but said that to reduce the chance of the scar being permanent I had to do NO EXERCISE for THREE WEEKS. Ugh. Pretty much the crucial final three weeks of training, leading into the taper week. There was just no way I could get and keep my conditioning to where it needed to be on race day (it is a super challenging course). So I dropped for this year; hoping to be back for it in 2018.]