Conquering the East West Trail Line End-to-End

For three years I've wanted to run the East West Trail from end-to-end.  It is a trail line that is very close to my house and I've run every piece of it, excluding the last mile, just not all at once.  Last fall my friend, husband, and I all decided to pick a date and go for it, but illness and injury set us back.  While driving by a small stretch of it Saturday afternoon, I regretted missing that run.  It was going to be epic.  We planned stashes of food and water along the 16 mile course.  We promised to celebrate with beer and great food at the finish.  I still wanted to go.  My friend, Monica, and I needed to run 16 miles this Sunday anyway.  And truthfully, it is really hard to find a 16 mile loop in the middle of the suburbs that include interesting scenery and something new.  This fit the bill so I called Monica and asked if she were game.

Mapmyrun.com I made the map the morning before the run.

 Monica has never told me, "no."  She's a great friend like that.

So we quickly stashed a car at the finish line and rushed over to the Cabella's in Lone Tree, Colorado where the trail officially starts.  Our husbands and kids waved us goodbye.  I quickly told my husband I would send him a Glymse if something went wrong.  If we were radio silent, things were good.

The trail starts uphill.  We climbed 500 feet up a system of hills called the Bluffs.  We ran down this hill a month before and we lamented it is much more fun to run it in reverse.  Nothing like warming up on a 7% grade.  The 360 degree views from the top of the hill are absolutely stunning.  You can see all of Denver, the Tech Center, Foothills, and even as far south as Colorado Springs.  The trail is crushed gravel and considering the 20 mile per hour winds, we were making good time.

8 miles in.  The trail switched back to crushed gravel from rocky single track.

After heading down the other side of the Bluffs, we started ascending Wildcat Mountain.  It isn't a huge mountain, but I look at it everyday from my house.  The climb fluctuates between 7-14% grades for almost 2 full miles by the time we reached the back side of the mountain and finished at the top of the ridge near Castle Pines.

Monica standing in front of Wildcat Mountain in the distance and behind that are the Bluffs, where we started.

Going into the run, I already covered over 47 miles in the last 6 days.  (I logged 63 miles this week after completing this run.)  By the top of those hills, already almost 2,000 ft in elevation climbed, my legs felt weak and tired.

Exactly 10 miles in, there is a compass rose that points to major land marks.  As the crow flies, it is 1.7 miles, as my legs ran, much, much, much further.  I should have been a bird.

 But as the trail became more narrow and we bounded up and down the rolling hills, I felt refreshed.

The next 4 miles are rolling downhills followed by a final 2 mile short climb. 

Miles 8-14 felt amazing.  I was easily conquering the trail that I'd wanted to cover for so long in one stretch.  I love the Highlands Ranch Backcountry.  It is the number one reason I am grateful to live in this town.  Sure the schools are great, the rec centers are a definite bonus, but really, it is the trail system that allows me to escape the city and find some inner quiet that I truly appreciate.  All these thoughts were happily bouncing through my brain, until Monica almost got hit in the back by a mountain biker.

We were cruising along a nice stretch of open grass lands.  The trail is narrow single track with lots of rocks, sand, bends, and bumps.  We just turned down a slight hill and were nearing the bottom when we heard a loud screech and sand went flying in every direction.  Naturally, both of us vaulted off the trail before looking behind us to find a man laughing his ass off.  He thought it was hilarious that he came really close to creaming Monica in the back and was not shy about his demented sense of humor.  Neither of us had headphones.  We weren't talking.  We were peaceful and quiet.  He came out of no where and made no apology for his dangerous riding.

I have yet to see a sign like this on any of the trails.  I think it is time the city invested!

After he zipped by, we took a moment to collect ourselves.  We had 2 miles left, all uphill and that 20 mile per hour wind was relentless.  More and more bikers came out of no where and while I too mountain and road bike I pride myself in knowing the yield laws.  All but 2 of the 25 bikers we met needed a reminder.  It is really hard to start running up a steep hill and stop again 30 feet later to let someone pass, then to start up yet again.  It was killing my knees.  Even Monica grumpily breathed behind me, "If I have to stop one more time, I might not start again..."  Agreed.

Sixteen miles is not my longest run to date.  I run trails all summer long.  But when I saw the sign that marked the end of this journey I was elated.  It felt like a real finish line.  At a half or full marathon the crowd pulls me to the finish.  I love the cheering fans and the cow bells ringing.  When they place the medal around my neck I know I accomplished something big and honest.  This finish line didn't have any of that and yet it felt bigger and in many ways better.  It was a private euphoria. 

Not a thrilling sign, but it holds new meaning.

Together, Monica and I covered 16 miles and 2,300 feet of elevation gain, in two and a half hours.  We stopped at the inconspicuous sign that marked the end of the trail, threw our heads between our knees for a while, took a few pictures, and walked to my car.  It wasn't exactly the most thrilling celebration, but I felt infinitely proud.

Our kids and husbands were waiting there to surprise us for almost an hour.  They let the kids play at the playground and fly kites to pass the time, but when they saw us they came running up the sidewalk full blast, smiles huge!

My oldest son asked his dad while waiting for us to arrive, "Did mommy really run from one side of our city to the other?"  Yes I did! 

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