Thursday, January 26, 2017

Hawaii Running Roundup

There is no substitute for exploring on foot. It's an opportunity to see things in the context they were meant to be seen. Views from behind a steering wheel lack perspective of and connection with one's surroundings.

Exploring while running makes discovery possible on a larger scale, ideal for limited timeframes or soaking in a large geographic area.

Having realized this, running gets heavily incorporated into trips to new areas. This allows me to see/experience as much as possible when time is at a premium.

Enter Hawaii. We had 12 days to soak in as much as possible while we escaped the worst winter Boise has experienced for the past 100 years. The timing was impeccable and we were ecstatic to be far away in the Pacific. What follows is a daily breakdown of mostly the running activities:

12/30: Moanalua Valley Strava Activity

We left Boise obscenely early on a Friday morning, stopping over briefly in Seattle before continuing on to Honolulu. Despite the exhausting nature of this itinerary, I couldn't wait to get out and explore after we got settled in. I had done some research to pick out general areas to explore here: https://hawaiitrails.org/trails/ I arbitrarily picked the Moanalua Valley for the first voyage, leaving about an hour before sunset. The first thing that became apparent was that it was going to be very muddy. The peaks of the Ko'olau Range were overcast and looking soggy. Not far from the trailhead I passed some people hunting pigs with a small pack of dogs. I tested out their friendliness, unsure if I was in a locals-only environment. I was clearly too pasty to pass as anything but completely out of place. We exchanged hearty hellos and I pressed on. On a sidenote, Hawaiian lingo was readily apparent early on: "howzit" was rampant as well as ending most sentences with "yeah?"

Things got wetter and weirder the higher I got. Attempting to keep my feet dry was pointless as I had to ford multiple flooded sections of the jeep trail and stream crossings with signs warning of flash floods. Eventually I reached a trailhead sign directing me to cross the stream and continue up the mountain, but someone had etched into the sign, reststop vandal style, the words "stairs" with an arrow pointing the opposite direction. Thinking the graffiti was pointing to stairs that would take me across this turbulent section of the stream, I followed the other way. The trail soon became very overgrown with soaking wet plants. I lost the trail several times until eventually finding some hot pink trail markers and a sign telling me to turn around. At this point there were knife-edge muddy ridges with ropes to aid the climb, increasing rain and sketchyness, coupled with complete darkness and a headlamp that I wisely brought with near-dead batteries. I turned around and trudged back to the car. Come to find out later, this wayward path was a now prohibited back route to the famous Haiku Stairs, which have been closed to the public and guarded for some time now.

12/31: Aiea Loop, Waikiki Strava Activity, Second Activity
Next up came the Aiea Loop, another slop fest. I took the kids on a short loop while Deanna ran, then she watched them while I ran the full loop. It was surprising to see so many people on this trail considering what a mess it was. Apparently RC cars are a big deal here, as I passed around 20-30 people running their miniature jeeps over the highly technical, messy terrain.

As much as I wanted to run, it just wasn't possible for the majority of this trail. I learned quickly to heed the advice of my uncle, a local of many years: "hawaii hiking rule: never step on the trail into ferns or other low plants without being sure there is ground under it."  This type of terrain was a whole different type of challenge! The views were great (see outlook of H3 freeway below), however and I finished the loop completely covered in mud. A faucet was available to rinse off, but didn't prevent us from systematically trashing our rental car by the time our trip was over.


My goal to complete 1200 miles for the year was a bit short still, so I trotted along Waikiki later that day for 2 miles to an average of 100 miles/month for 2016.

1/2: Makua Cave Lookout Strava Activity
After another day at the beach on the West Coast, we noticed a trail heading up the hill around the pullout for Makua Cave. I could see some people in a small lava tube several hundred feet up. It looked like a quick, relatively low effort/reward ratio run, so I jumped out and headed up the hill while my family sat in the car watching the sunset over the Pacific.
The trail up was ridiculously steep and quickly became dangerously so with poor footing. After some wrong turns I found the lava tube and a great lookout:


This trail was right next to the Makua Military Reservation, which was clearly marked by fences. Not sure what the history is there, but I found an old .50 caliber shell casing on the trail up, so I'm guessing the past involved frequently shooting crap to bits.

1/3: Manana Ridge/Waimano Falls Strava Activity
The next morning I got up well before sunrise for the first of two long runs on this trip. My aim was to get to the top of the Ko'olau Range looking out over Kaneohe Bay. The East side of this range is comically beautiful: sheer cliffs in fuzzy green with azure blue ocean views. So started the Manana Ridge trail with this reward in mind. The trail started off great, but quickly devolved into excessive mud and overgrowth. I came to a sign that indicated the trail was closed ahead due to a landslide. Of course, I had to see this and continued on. The landslide was impressive, but not impassable, so I pushed on slower and slower. The trail was now littered with ropes tied to trees to aid in the steep muddy climbs. At this point I was racing the clock and realized I was going too slow to make it to the ridge in any reasonable amount of time considering my family would be waiting to go explore. I reached a quality lookout and turned around:



I made decent time on the way down and followed a side trail indicating "Waimano Falls" about a mile away. At a fork, I made a wrong turn and got lost. Eventually I heard someone yelling in the distance and worked my way toward them along a sort-of trail, figuring they were at the waterfall. It sounded like they were calling for help, so I prepared for a potential blind-leading-the-blind rescue. I came to a clearing to find two men who were very surprised to see me speaking Portuguese. They had 5 or 6 pitbull-ish dogs with them and then proceeded to ask me if I had seen their missing pooch. So they weren't lost, but their dog was. They were dissappointed to see me trudge through the trees instead of Rover, but pointed me in the general direction of the falls, which I eventually found and had to myself for a few minutes to cool off:


I got back to the house at a reasonable time, slightly less muddy than anticipated thanks to the waterfall.

1/4: Makapuu Lighthouse Strava Activity
Wednesday was my birthday and we spent most of the day snorkeling at Hanauma Bay. After that, we took a family hike up to the Makapuu Lighthouse, enjoying fantastic views:


1/6: Waimano Ridge Trail Strava Activity
Friday I made a trip back to the Ko'olau Range, one ridge over from my run on the 3rd. The start of the trail followed along the fenceline for some state property before breaking away into an open ridge. Trees were awesome:


Roots made things complicated:



As expected, the trail crapped out the higher up I got. I turned back after finding a good view:



1/7: Ko'olina Lagoons, Kaena Point Strava Activity & Here

I've been following training per the Ultrarunning coach of the stars, Jason Koop. So today I worked on some VO2 max time doing intervals at the beach. This area was highly trafficked by tourist runners like myself; the strava activity here was intense.

I didn't plan on doing anything else for the day, but we drove up to the North Shore doing some exploring and out past Haleiwa to the trailhead to Kaena Point. Deanna could see that I was chomping at the bit to go check out the trail and run out to the point (about a 6 mile out and back). She offered to stay with the kids and do some beach combing while I checked it out. In her words: "just go-you can run that like super fast, right?" She didn't have to twist my arm too hard. She has enabled my running lifestyle-period. I couldn't enjoy such beautiful places on long, frequent solo runs without her making logistics work and waiting patiently for me at trailheads when I inevitably return late.

I dutifully ran hard to stay on schedule out to the point. This was a jeep road that has been torn up to the width of a highway and made for tricky running. The waves on this part of the island were large and lots of fishermen lined the shore, but no one was in the water. At Kaena point I came to a large fenced enclosure designed to keep pets out of an Albatross nesting area. There was a gate for hikers to enter and on the inside there were huge birds everywhere wondering why I was staring at them. The point itself was amazing with views of the West and North shores:


That wrapped-up the running on Oahu. Next stop: Kauai

1/9 Pihea Lookout Strava Activity
We had two full days on Kauai, which clearly isn't enough to see everything. But we intended to see the highlights, so we took a day on the South and a day on the North. After arriving, we drove straight to Waimea Canyon, which was covered with trails that need to be explored another day. It really is the Grand Canyon of Hawaii:


Our hike was to the Pihea lookout that looks down on the Napali Coast, where we would be the following day. The trail was loaded with tourists; many of which were wearing socks and sandals to give you an idea of the demographic we were dealing with. This in stark contrast to the melting pot of tourists and locals on Oahu. The trail itself was pretty muddy and we had the kids, so we took our time to not get too filthy. The kids did great on the technical trail and enjoyed imagining dinosaurs bursting out of the jungle to devour their small, tender bodies. Wasn't Jurassic Park filmed here? Obscene views:





We rounded out the day with a trip to a remote beach on the West shore of Kauai. Polihale State Park is at the end of a 5 mile dirt road that is in about as bad of shape as a dirt road can be. Our trail-ready Hyundai Elantra rental handled it beautifully :) Did another stroll and some body surfing on arrival:


We had a great view of Niihau, the westernmost island in Hawaii:


This also extended my Western-most travels from the place of my Birth! For reference, my Northern-most point of travel is Edmonton, Alberta. Eastern-most is Las Americas Airport in the Dominican Republic, Southern-most is Santa Rosa, Guatemala. I've got some work to do to get away from my native continent. It was also the furthest distance I have been from my place of birth (3094 miles). For some reason, I care about these things. Technically, the furthest I could get from my birthplace is the antipode to Idaho Falls, ID, located in the Indian Ocean about 500km north of the French Southern and Antarctic Lands. Probably won't be heading out there any time soon. Cool antipode calculator here.

1/10: Napali Coast Strava Activity
Before we left on this trip, Napali was the one place I wanted to do a long run. The Kalalau trail runs along the coast for 10 miles ending at a beach of the same name. I dug up a GPX from Strava, which confirmed the distance plus 10000 feet of vert (out and back). I'd seen pictures that only confirmed this was the place to check out on Kauai if I had to prioritize, which I did.

We left our hotel later than planned because we were all tired. Letting the kids sleep in would be important as we were going to catch a red eye flight home this same night. That meant potentially 36+ hours without quality (if any) sleep. Leaving late, I knew time would be at a premium on the trail. We planned to do the first section together as a family, then I would take off and do as much as I could with a 6 hour budget. The trailhead was mobbed, another symptom of arriving late. I didn't anticipate this many people, however. The kids were taking a long time, so I took off by myself with Deanna's blessing. I was immediately stopped on the trail because of some construction; it looked like they were trying to secure some loose rocks. After a few minutes, the workers let me and a group of hikers pass. I started pushing up the trail, dodging roots, branches, mud, and all the hallmarks of a Hawaii trail. But this one also included an obnoxious number of tourists unaccostomed to trail ettiquite. Folks had a hard time understanding "on your left" or "can I sneak by you?" either due to a lack of experience or non-English speaking status I assume. I saw no other runners the entire trip. In fact, everyone looked at me like I was crazy or they couldn't fathom why anyone would run on a trail. At first it was a novelty, but eventually the commentary and odd questions became a bit bothersome, like another hazard of the trail to deal with. After a mile or so of this dodging and explaining, I got to a fork in the trail that split off to Hanakapiai Beach one way, Hanakapiai Falls another, and the portion of the Kalalau trail that requires a permit to continue. Excited to get past the crowds, I continued on the Kalalau trail and encountered only sporadic hikers. The views from this point on became progressively more and more breathtaking:



The running itself was extremely slow going. I averaged around 3mph, which wasn't going to give me enough time to get to the end of the trail. I've arrived home from runs late too many times, so I wanted to make sure I stayed on schedule for this one and relax with my family for our last afternoon of this vacation. I decided to push as far as I could and turn back slightly before 3 hours to give myself some breathing room for the inevitable fatigue that would set in with all this climbing.

One lesson I've taken away from running is that there are primary, secondary, tertiary, quaternary, and beyond goals. Not acheiving a primary goal doesn't feel like a failure; in fact primary goals are best-case scenarios for when everything goes as planned (not often). My primary, ideal goal for this trip was to run the whole Kalalau Trail and see the beach at the end. I didn't know if that was overly ambitious, but I intended to give it a shot. Once that goal became unrealistic because I couldn't move any faster and we needed a late start to get us all rested, I moved on to the next goal with full effort: get as far as I could in the time I had and enjoy the ridiculous sights all around me. It was a win-win. Close to my turnaround point, the trail became more exposed with clear views of the coast. It was indescribably beautiful. Pictures don't do justice to these types of places-the whole sensory experience is really what makes them so special.

The exposed sections were pretty warm and I blew through all my water quickly. Unfortunately, I forgot my water filter, so I was left with a 9 mile return trip in the heat and no water. I had a couple options: ask the next hikers for water or drink from one of the many streams and risk some GI distress. I saw some feral goats along the trail, so I figured there was a substantial risk for some Beaver Fever. I did not want to get dehydrated because this would make my 3+ hour return trip more like a 5 hour death march. I came to a small waterfall that didn't seem to have any treadable area above it (by man or beast). The water was cool and my cells were aching for it, so I chugged until I was full and filled my hydration bladder and kept moving, glad to be juiced again. I've made this decision occasionally on trails when my fluid planning doesn't match the conditions and I find myself without water. It's never something I like to do and I mitigate the risk as best I can. So far I have yet to acquire Giardia or any ill effects from these occasional infectious diseases immersive experiences.

The return trip was hard work. My quads were falling apart and I could no longer run up the steeper climbs, so I powerhiked up and jogged down in true ultramarathoning form. Fatigue never worsened beyond this point, so I was able to enjoy the run back despite feeling about 50%. I passed all the people I had seen throughout the day again, many of which were suprisingly excited to see me. I was excited to see them as well, as they kindly cheered me on, boosting my spirits (aka adrenaline) and one group offered me water (too late!). Once I reached the Hanakapiai fork again, I decided to check out the beach. There were some surfers riding huge waves and the beach was beautiful:


The last mile back to the car was a pain again with all the hikers logjamming the trail on this section. I wasn't moving as fast, so at least it wasn't as frustrating as the out trip. Upon arrival at the trailhead, I was about 15 minutes ahead of schedule, so I walked down to Ke'e beach where I swam to cool off and got a look at my Hawaii feet:


The casualties from this week and a half were two toenails, one large blister, and a lot of cuts and scrapes. No show-stoppers though, thankfully. I also blew out the uppers on my New Balance MT101s on the first run. This was the only pair of shoes I brought, so they had holes in them for the entire trip, but held up well aside from that. I took three pairs of Darn Tough wool socks. These have become my go-to socks for everything. They are, as the name suggests, just tough-as-nails great socks.

I rinsed of the salt water in the beach shower and met Deanna in the parking lot. At this point the post-long run buzz kicked in, visible here:


Lastly, the Suunto video:


It always feels great to sit down for a big, greasy meal after an adventure like this one. We drove back to Hanalei and chowed down on Chicken in a Barrel BBQ. Our parting view did not disappoint:


Running was the point of this post, but it wasn't the point of this trip. We went to spend time with our family in Hawaii. My grandpa George was kind enough to host us all at his home (he's 98!). Our kids got to know their great-grandpa and learn about his life, which is a blog all of it's own. My uncle Clark and aunt Heidi were also very gracious hosts and shared the beauty of their island with us pasty mainlanders :) We're glad we got to reconnect with them, grandpa, Carolyn, and Dan. Thank you for having us and we look forward to visiting you again!

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Hoboing Business Trip Report

Several months ago, I was invited to speak at a state-wide conference for pharmacists taking place in Sun Valley, Idaho.

We began preparations for the weekend trip to central Idaho, weighing our options. Family trip? Solo trip? We looked at logistics of skipping kid's soccer games, foregoing a local 5K, and traveling with a tyrannical 3-year-old. Ultimately, cost was the deciding factor in how this trip would play out. The "conference rate" for the cheapest rooms at the Sun Valley Inn were in excess of $200 a night. We were looking at 3 nights, so this option was laughably expensive. We looked at other hotels and Air BnBs, unable to find anything within 60 miles under about $150. The prospect of making this a family trip fell apart; the next logical option would be for me to go alone and to camp out.

This created another set of logistical challenges:

  • Finding a campsite near the conference
  • Staying warm in early fall Sun Valley
  • Having access to my presentation materials so I could adequately prepare
  • Keeping my phone charged (this ended up being surprisingly difficult. Outlets were hidden behind secret panels at the Sun Valley Inn and I didn't have my external power bank with me all the time)
  • How to fit in running adventures in an area completely saturated with world-class trails
  • Bathing, grooming, and appearing/smelling professional in front of colleagues (including my direct supervisor and boss) with whom I needed to maintain long-term working relationships
  • (And as a last-minute added challenge) Safely transporting 3 full-size (roughly 3' x 5') posters of our pharmacy residents' research projects
I mentioned my plans to several coworkers who in turn offered to share a room or use of a shower. Aside from the awkwardness of these potential arrangements, I had already mentally committed to the camping approach, so I respectfully declined. At this point, I viewed it as a challenge to make this trip work exclusively utilizing ancient hobo technologies (Hobotech®).

Going into the trip, I had prepared very little. I had a general idea of what I needed to accomplish, but not many specifics as to how I would do so. I had a mental list like this:

Day 1 Schedule:
4:00 Wake Up
5:00 Leave for Sun Valley
7:30 Summit Hyndman Peak, one of the Idaho 12ers
12:00 Find Campsite, set up camp
13:00 Conference Begins
18:00 Poster Session (residents would need intact posters)
19:00 Return to campsite, bathe, prepare dinner, review presentation for tomorrow

Day 2 Schedule:
6:00 Wake Up
7:00 Continental Breakfast at conference
8:00 Conference begins
15:00 Presentation
18:00 Find a suitable trail to explore
21:00 Return to campsite, bathe, prepare dinner, read

Day 3 Schedule:
6:00 Wake Up, break camp
7:00 Continental Breakfast at conference
8:00 Conference begins
10:00 Sun Valley Ward Sacrament Meeting
10:30 Required Law Continuing Education Session
11:30 Drive Home

Day 1 started off weighing contingencies. It was raining on and off across the state, so I brought some rain gear and knew there would likely be some snow at the higher elevations. I made it to the Hyndman Creek Trailhead on time and headed up the trail. It was drizzling steadily, but not a downpour. And it was colder than I was accustomed to in the Treasure Valley aka the Banana Belt of Idaho. I ended up running with my rainjacket over my running pack because the winds were picking up and it was getting hard to stay warm. My feet got soaked early on after slipping during a creek crossing. At 8500' it began to snow and the weather was becoming more overwhelming. I pushed on to Sundance Lake at 9740' and there was 6" of snow on the ground. I did some soul searching at this point. I knew the remaining 2000' of climb was over scree and involved some scrambling. The weather wasn't improving and there was certain to be more snow the higher I went. I opted to head back down rather than risk death. I was on a tight schedule as it was and I needed to get the residents their posters. They would have a hard time finding them in the back seat of my car at a remote trailhead were I to perish in the wilderness. On the descent, the weather began to improve, so I was slightly bummed at this decision, but still glad I wasn't navigating snow-covered scree fields with semi-frozen feet. I made it back to the car and began the next task of securing a campsite.


I had tentatively planned on staying at the Boundary campsite for $10/night. It is a mile or so up Trail Creek Rd. from the Sun Valley Inn, where the conference was taking place. When I arrived, all the sites were occupied. It was a no-reservation site and I knew it was a gamble. I knew there were other campsites further up Trail Creek Rd., so I headed up that way and saw a sign for campsites on Corral Creek. I pulled into the first open site and set up camp. I got a text from one of the residents while I was pitching the tent (it was about 12:45) they were looking for their posters. It was still raining some and fairly windy, so I put on the rainfly, added my cot and some chairs for weight to hold the tent down if the wind picked up and went straight to the conference. I was still wearing my running gear which consisted of long pants and a long sleeve tech tee. I added a down jacket as a makeshift sportcoat to look slightly presentable. I figured there was always some guy at these conferences wearing a Hawaiian shirt, so I wouldn't look any more casual than that. I wasn't overly sweaty because of the cold, but I was wet and that doesn't smell great. It was a short day at the conference and I figured I could keep a perimeter around me when possible and try to lay low. Walking in, I sat down with a one-seat spacer between the nearest pharmacist and settled in for the first presentation. I noticed a guy a few rows ahead of me weaving snowflake Christmas ornaments out of fishing line and he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt. I relaxed. I ended up socializing a lot more than I had planned this day, but no notable grimaces on people's faces at my wet-dog aroma. One acquaintance did comment: "you look like you're going camping!" I responded unironically that I was. Reaching my threshold of introversion suppression for the day, I left and had a hankering for a burger (my go-to post-run food) and went to the McDonald's drive-thru in Hailey then returned to camp. Bathing was the next order of business. I brought baby wipes as a last resort to be used for a makeshift sponge-bath. However, Corral Creek was a mere 20 yards from the campsite and had good tree cover, so I grabbed my Peppermint Dr. Bronner's and shivered my way to the creek. I had taken cold showers for 2 years on my LDS mission and had hoped to be done with them for good. The first hot shower I took upon returning home probably lasted an hour. This creek bath was definitely next-level cold and would serve as stunning contrast of how truly amazing a hot shower is. I focused on high-stench areas (use your imagination) to minimize the misery factor of lowering my core temperature with a full-body submersion. I had some foresight and brought a towel, which was essential in shortening the suffering. I got into dry clothes, crawled into my sleeping bag and began to read. I hoped to review my presentation materials, but I had forgotten to download them to my phone and didn't have a signal. So I read The Brothers Karamazov instead. As I warmed up, I instantly became comatose around 9pm.

Day 2 I woke up after sleeping 9 hours! I was periodically cold, but slept mostly well. I dressed up fancy with a tie and fresh clothes. I slathered on some deodorant, hoping that between the targeted creek bathing and artificial aromas of Old Spice, my vagrant quotient would remain below the acceptable levels for a professional society. The morning CE sessions went well, only I was in need of some last-minute cramming to prepare for my presentation since I didn't have all my materials and crashed early the night before. I skipped the end of one session and sequestered myself for some highly focused review of current treatment recommendations for sepsis. In the end, it didn't make much difference. The format of the session I was speaking at (along with 3 other pharmacists) had changed at the last minute. This led to increased anxiety and a true test of my stench-prevention measures. Three hours later, the session ended without me betraying my true nomadic nature and hopefully imparting a few pearls of wisdom about antibiotic use. I left and headed straight to the trailhead. On a whim, I chose the Pioneer Cabin trailhead. Looking at my National Forest map, I found another trail that connected a loop I estimated to be at least 6 miles. I get the impression it's hard to choose a bad trail in Sun Valley and this ended up being about as perfect as I could have hoped. I climbed a steep trail for 3-4 miles in cool temps with a clear sky, eventually reaching the eponymous Pioneer Cabin with large lettering emblazoning the roof: "The Higher You Get, The Higher You Get." This summit coincided with the sunset, creating some highly rewarding views of the Pioneer range including Hyndman Peak and Devil's Bedstead. The cabin itself was interesting, similar to Appalachian Trail shelters, but more elaborate. It was full of hiker paraphernalia, including a guitar, sleeping bags, pot leaf graffiti, some food and fuel, and even had an old wood-burning stove. It reeked of putrid humans, which was probably a good sign that I hadn't ripened to that point myself. It was now getting dark quickly and I wasn't sure how far I had left in my planned loop, so I pressed on. The temperature was dropping quick now, so I put on my wool gloves and headlamp. To my chagrin, the batteries were nearly spent and my lighting situation was pretty crappy. This fact hastened my pace, so as to avoid a moonless stumble down the mountain if possible. The weak beam got me down the mountain eventually, but not before a minor twisted ankle and a few near face-plants. I ran into some bow hunters at the trailhead who asked if I heard the elk bugling, and indeed I had.

Strava Activity








I got back to my campsite around 9 and performed an even more targeted creek bath as the temperature was now approaching freezing. I remembered seeing the fully enclosed bathrooms at the Sun Valley Inn where I could finish my bathing in the morning and wash the grease off my head. Bones chattering, I warmed up a Mountain House lasagna in some boiled creek water and whipped out The Brothers K once again. A friend of mine used to say "hunger is the best sauce" I would agree and add that a warm meal or drink when you are freezing cold and hungry is sauce for that sauce. It was great to not have cell service as a distraction this night. It helped me get fully immersed in Dostoevsky, reading a large chunk at once. Up to that point I had read small sections when I could and it was still great, but this was better and obviously how this book (and probably most books) should be read. Stepping out of my tent to water the plants, I looked up to an unpolluted night sky. The Milky Way was clear and prominent and constellations easily recognizable: Orion, big dipper, Cassiopeia, the north star. I opted for warmer arrangements this evening as the temperature was continuing to drop. I put my army surplus wool blanket inside my 20 degree down sleeping bag and stayed toasty til morning.

Day 3 I woke up groggy and it had frozen. The tent was covered in ice and my running shoes were blocks of ice. I warmed up my herbal tea while I broke camp. Made it to the conference at about 7 and secured my private bathroom stall for phase 2 of my bathing. Attended first CE session, then went to Sun Valley LDS Congregation Sacrament Meeting at 10:00. The chapel was a tall A-frame with large windows on the South side of the building. The chapel was packed with young families and Elder Hamula of the first quorum of the Seventy was visiting. I took the sacrament and headed back to make the last CE session starting at 10:30. This was the law session they intentionally put at the end of the conference so people don't leave early. (All Idaho pharmacists need one hour of law CE annually for their license). I filled up my water bottle and hit the road.

The trip was a success. I maintained some level of credibility among my peers, explored new trails, stayed alive, learned some new travel skills, and enjoyed most of the trip.

And lastly, I saved a ton of money (I estimate about $750):
Lodging: $0
Conference Registration: $0 (covered because I was presenting)
Food: about $20 (I mostly ate for free at the conference and also brought protein bars, gels, Mountain House)
Gas: about $20
Total: $40