Turtleheads, Iceboxes and the Calico Hills

Two months ago, before I had been accepted to this conference and when I began pondering what I could do out west by coming early, I considering doing a southern California adventure race. The logistics ended up being prohibitive, but I got some tips from the RD concerning local hotspots in Vegas. The most appealing of these suggestions was Red Rock Canyon. Great name; maybe not the most imaginative, but it does the trick as I love canyons and exposed rock.

The plan from the moment I landed in Nevada was to spend a day at Red Rock, running as much as the terrain would allow and get in a “long run”. 20 miles was the goal. I wasn’t entirely sure about the long running day, however, after unexpectedly doing 10 miles on Day 1. Sure, it was mostly in the form of a hike, and I didn’t run at all, but I walked hard on my trip to and from Hoover, and I could feel it in tight and tired legs, a sore hip and aching feet (I wasn’t wearing ideal shoes for that). I also wasn’t sure 20 miles would be in the cards due to the nature of the terrain; I had caught a glimpse of the mountains and rocks from the Whole Foods expedition the morning before, and the rocky crags, barren peaks and red rock faces were impressive and somewhat daunting for an east coaster looking to knock out a “quick” 20 miles. Quick of course would be relative. I knew this wouldn’t be a typical 20 mile, 2.5-3 hour run. The landscape wouldn’t allow it as I intended to throw a mountain of unknown elevation into the mix, I hoped for some genuine rock scrambling and free climbing, and I intended to take my fair share of photographs to document the outing. A late start only made the prospects of 20 dimmer. The drive out was quick and easy, rapidly shifting from the chaos of Vegas to dusty, suburban construction zones to increasingly majestic geologic formations and scattered cacti. Signs warning of wild horses and burros only made the trip to the canyon more exciting; I like my squirrels and chipmunks, but Philadelphia wildlife just doesn’t do it for me.

I quickly found myself at the first vista overlooking Red Rock Canyon and the surrounding mountains. As the Helping Friendly Book mentioned, it’s more of a valley framed by dramatic peaks and cliffs, with a number of small canyons fingering off from the side of the valley walls. After a quick stop at the Visitor Center, I had my plan set and started off running toward the most dramatic feature of the park, the Calico Hills, the formation which gives the park its name. The plan was simple; the ranger laid out an 11.5 mile loop that would essentially take me around the valley on trails, winding its way up and down through the foot hills with dramatic views all around and occasional detours into the weathered sandstone or past other interesting features. I would start with that, and depending on how I was feeling, I would bag Turtlhead Mountain, a five mile round trip that would elevate me past 6300 feet, a gain of more than 2000 feet. The estimated time for the ascent, as published in the guide, is 4 hours. I hoped it wouldn’t take that long, but I didn’t know how it would affect the rest of my day if I pushed hard for the sake of time. Later, if time and energy permitted, I would consider an additional 3 mile detour into Icebox Canyon.

So the run started off well, slowed somewhat by the initial flurry of pictures, some early rock scrambling and the occasional walk when the uphills threatened to drain me too early in the day. The first leg was a three mile shot through the Calico Hills, arguably the reddest and richest colored rocks I have ever seen. The trail wandered along the base of the cliffs and boulders which were littered with climbers; I have since read that this is one of the top five climbing destinations in the country, and indeed, there were people roped up all over this initial stretch. It was a slow start as the terrain demanded attention and at times was too much for me to run, not to mention that I started in the most photogenic portion of the park. An hour later I had emerged at the other end of the Calico Hills and was ready to tackle Turtlehead. Up close, it was daunting, and I wondered if taking on a mountain that supposedly might take as long as five hours would be a good idea. I set out at a run, hoping to eat up much of the distance before getting into the hard bits, but while the first mile or so looked more than runnable from the bottom, I found myself running little as I attacked the mountain’s base. That said, I felt like I was making good time, and I quickly found myself on the mountainside scrambling and trudging up the loose rocks, trying to follow a trail which had all but vanished into dust and gravel. The wind grew in intensity, and I began to worry about the temperature at the summit. Clouds had decided to mask the sun for much of my ascent, and I began to feel the cold in my arms and ears. After breaching a pass and following the ridgeline up to the summit, I sat for some time, eating and enjoying the amazing vistas of snow spotted peaks, the colored rocks below and the distant spires and towers of Vegas. I found a nook just off the summit where I was shielded from most of the wind, and thankfully, the sun emerged enough from the quickly drifting clouds to help re-warm me. It had taken me an hour to make the ascent, and I knew the descent would be considerably faster (just over half an hour as it turned out, and I “ran” most of it). As I scrambled down the steep summit and upper reaches of the mountain, I raced against the wind which had returned with a fury. Within minutes, my arms and hands were numb! I couldn’t believe it as I was cold, but not THAT cold. Nonetheless, as the tingling set in, I moved faster to reach the lower elevations where I would be protected from the relentless rush of cold mountain air.

I reached the bottom and set off for the reminder of the loop, wondering if the fast climb and steep downhill run would slow me considerably later in the day. The remainder of the actual loop wound its way through foothills, gravelly washes and occasional ravines, but all told it was a nice eight plus miles of desert terrain. I ran most of the way, again pausing to walk some of the more strenuous hills and happening upon two hikers who had spotted a pack of bighorn sheep grazing on a steep and forbidding mountain side. I stopped to watch for several minutes, and other than one more rest, I ran back to the Visitor Center, bypassing Icebox canyon as there was no trail to get down to the trail head from the loop I was on. I didn’t see any burros, but I saw evidence of their existence in the form of droppings scattered about the trails.

By the time I returned to my car, my legs were certainly tired. 16.5 miles or so in this sort of terrain is a bit different than training at home, whether on the trails of Wissahickon or on the Green Ribbon Trail, so I was happy with the day but not quite satisfied. I jumped in the car, and leaving the visitor center, I turned onto the scenic 13 mile one way drive around the park, a great way to see the park if you’re not feeling quite as ambitious. A number of vistas and parking cites at trailheads makes the park user-friendly, and at mile 8, I pulled into a parking spot for Icebox. I jumped out, my legs tired but ready for one final push for the chance of a big payoff in the canyon, and I set out at a run as the sun began to descend, casting the trail into chilly shadows. Wind raced across the first half of the trail as it ascended through open desert to the canyon mouth, and I again wished I had brought more than a short sleeved bike jersey which had long been damp with sweat. But after the first 10 minutes or so, the wind lessened, and I found myself in a playground of rocks as I made my way along the narrow canyon’s floor, passing occasional trickles and pools of dark water and making my way to the top of the canyon, a dramatic and abrupt end with water sprinkling down from above into deep pools surrounded on all sides by steep rock walls. It was here that I got to climb. I could feel my body shaking from the exertion of the day, and I decided to limit myself due to this obvious fatigue; though there were a few people in the depths of the canyon with me, I didn’t want to rely on them if my muscles should give out, leaving me sprawled in unnatural angles on the canyon floor. So I left some of the more enticing scrambles and climbs for the future and to those with ropes.

And so it was that I almost completed my 20 miles. By the published distances, I covered about19-19.5 miles. I had plans to drive to some hot springs and maybe Death Valley today, but I have woken up with screaming quads, and the thought of another 5 miles of hiking or five hours of driving doesn’t really appeal. So, instead I’m going to put the gas money toward a living museum of sorts here in the city and deal with the logistics of moving into my new, conference-provided hotel and returning my car. Here’s hoping my roomie for the next two nights neither smells nor snores!