REPORT: Unsupported 49mi Santa Rosa Traverse FKT

Christof Teuscher

[toc]
[read_meter]

Some sorta summary

Today (Dec 18, 2022) I managed to wrap up a new unsupported FKT on the 49mi Santa Rosa Traverse (CA) in 25:37:15. That’s shaving off only a rather meager 32 minutes from the previous unsupported FKT held by Rob Manley, Bup Minardi, and Zane Morris. The route has no water, so I carried all my fluids and supplies for 25h. I can’t say it was easy. The beast kicked many parts of my body. I was probably also not fully recovered from my Anza-Borrego traverse FKT from 3 days ago. Or perhaps I’m just old. Either way, below you’ll find some report.

The Santa Rose traverse. A gem of a route. Well, it depends on what you like.

A gem of a route?

The route traverses the entire Santa Rose mountain range between road 74 and road S-22. It climbs all nine major peaks. Depending on whether you grind up/down the road to Santa Rosa and Toro or bushwhack cross-country, the route will be 45ish or 49ish miles long. The route has 17,000ft of climbing if you start at road S-22. In some parts there is a faint trail, sometimes you may see a cairn, but for the most part, it all feels more like a cross-country route with LOTS of bushwhacking. There’s no water anywhere on the route and no real bailout option.

When I first saw this route, I was thinking: “It takes folks around 24h to complete barely 50mi? Either they are beginners or the route is really hard.” I do now know that it’s the latter. The route is no joke. I have great respect for anybody who finishes this route in any amount of time. So, in summary, depending on what you like, the route can be absolute gem or a total nightmare…

A partial view of the Santa Rose mountain range. Toro is the highest peak to the left. Its elevation is 8,717ft /2,657m.

The route has 17,000ft of climbing. It doesn’t look like it, but there’s nothing flat (except perhaps the Rabbit summit).

Mildly unsuccessful prep

The night before I fat-loaded with a nice rib and finalized my plan. None of it worked. While drafting my sophisticated plan, my thinking was that I needed to do what I thought would be the most difficult part between Toro and Rabbit during daylight. So I timed my start accordingly. I think this was not an optimal strategy.

I set the alarm to 3am and slept terrible because the rib was sitting on my stomach like a rock.

Fat-loading the night before.

A 100% accurate plan. Like all my plans.

This is how it went

My initial plan was to start at road 74 and to bushwhack (as Rob, Bup, and Zane did on the way down) up to the Santa Rosa mountain instead of taking the almost 4mi longer road. Yet, at the start I made a last-minute decision to take the road instead when I saw the snow on the ground and the amount of bushwhacking that would be required.

It was 27F and windy. I packed some extra layers, hats, and gloves, and headed into the unwelcoming night. The road was packed with snow pretty much from the very bottom on. My pack felt insanely heavy because I carried food and water for 24+ hours. But I knew it would get gradually lighter.

At to bottom of the Santa Rosa mountain road by road 74. It was 27F.

I look tired even at the beginning.

The one and only road on that traverse.

Santa Rosa mountain summit. The skies were still clear, but it was quite cold.

For the first half-day, I was trotting through varies kinds of soft, crunchy, and wet snow. My feet were cold and wet. I figured things would get better at lower elevations. They eventually did. Clouds soon moved in. It stayed rather chilly the entire day and night. I never was able to take my long-sleeve off. The temps were great for moving, however, and I was sure not to run out of water.

From reading all the reports I assumed the most difficult stretch would be between Toro and Rabbit because of the bushwhacking. I had done some recon up by Villager and for some unknown reason, I thought once I would reach that peak, it would all be easy and downhill from there. I was so terribly wrong! The stretch from Villager to the finish was the slowest and felt the hardest. I would say that it’s not a section one wants to do downhill. Or perhaps I just felt that way because I was tired and it was dark?

The day went on and I don’t remember much except that there was indeed lots of bushwhacking, many demanding cross-country sections, and never-ending cacti everywhere. The bushwhacking led to ample Wenaha canyon flashbacks.

View of the peaks yet to come. The Salton Sea is in the background.

A good amount of bouldering is included in the route at no additional cost. Notice the two cairns.

Cacti everywhere in all sizes and shapes. Especially at night, these are a real hazard.

This is perhaps some of the best terrain you may see (besides the road to Toro). Notice the cacti, small and big, everywhere. Well, it’s the desert!

Mid-day views from the ridge. It was chilly.

I found a puddle of ice and water. Thankfully I didn’t need any.

Dawn’s peak summit cairn.

Onwards to Rabbit peak. This is the trail. More endless bushwhacking…

Before 5pm it was dark and now navigation became an even bigger challenge.

Navigation was non-trivial because of the bushwhacking. You can never really see much if you are making your way through tall bushes. It’s hard to figure out a line and you need to backtrack for most options that first seem feasible. At night, all of this becomes an order of magnitude more difficult. For example, when you search for a line through brush and turn around in all directions, it’s really easy to lose your orientation and to continue in the wrong direction, e.g., from where you just came. I speak from experience…

In addition, you have to pay a lot of attention to not get hurt by the cacti, which are—I’m repeating myself—EVERYWHERE.

Most peaks had a summit registry of some sorts. I think I only signed one. Can’t remember what peak that was. Probably Dawn’s.

The night was long and difficult. The bushwhacking continued and there were some rather challenging cross-country sections in and out of deep and steep canyons. Needless to say that cacti were everywhere (still!) and that a fall into or onto a cacti would be really devastating.

At some point I saw my second animal: probably a cougar. I couldn’t fully see it in the canyon, but it surely acted like a cougar. I tossed bunch of rocks it its direction and it took off after 5 minutes. The first animal was a tick. I didn’t realize they had ticks in the desert.

At Villager peak I was ahead of my (oh-so-perfect!) plan to finish under 24h and felt quite good. I could have descended from there to the road without doing the last 5 peaks (the only real bailout option if you go North to South), but given the progress, it was clear I needed to continue.

Well, what I thought was going to be an easy finish over some lower-elevation peaks turned out to be a real challenge. The terrain was challenging, especially the descents in loose rocks, it was night, and I was getting tired. The route also gifts you a sheer endless number of false summits. Especially at night, these are always quite frustrating to me.

So the time buffer I had at Villager started to gradually evaporate. When I checked the time once, I was quite shocked that it would soon be daylight and that if I wouldn’t get my act together, I wouldn’t even be able to beat the current unsupported time. Ughs!

Sure enough, daylight broke sooner rather than later, but I still was on the last peak, which was incredibly hard and slow. I suddenly remembered from a report that the “word” technical was used and that it’s best to do it during daylight. Well, I can confirm some sections were exposed and rather sketchy, especially coming down. Nothing really feels stable on these peaks.

Some of these sections were technical and exposed. You could definitely die.

And then I had to run for a mile or so through a soft wash. It wasn’t as bad as it looks.

Finally I reached County Road S-22!

A little roughed up.

There was no time to dally and no time to sleep. I had to catch a flight back to Portland…

Some irrelevant data

Splits based on summit photo time.

powered by Advanced iFrame

 

REPORT: Unsupported 45mi Anza-Borrego Traverse FKT

Christof Teuscher

Summary

On Dec 13, 2022, I managed to set a new unsupported FKT on the 45mi Anza-Borrego Traverse in 9:43:54. That’s 3min faster than the current self-supported FKT (9h 46m 34s) and 13min slower than the supported FKT (9h 30m 18s). The route has no water, so I carried all my fluids and supplies.

Winter storm delay

The recent heavy winter storm that hit southern California (and many other parts of the state) on Dec 11 and 12, 2022, required me to change plans. Because of the ongoing storm, it was not possible to drive to the start at the Sunrise Trailhead (at 5,000ft) on Mon, Dec 12, 2022, so I delayed my start by a day.

Julian, CA, in the morning of Dec 12, 2022. It continued to snow for most of the day. Julien (4,300ft) is a couple of miles from the start (5,000ft). Webcam.

A report of some sorts

It was still quite sketchy to drive there the next day at 4am in a non-4WD rental car. The roads were snow- and ice-covered and there were about 2 inches of snow on the ground. Nothing too crazy, however. The temperature was 29F with strong winds. I made a couple of last-minute layer, glove, and hat decisions. As always, I overpacked.

At 4:48am I hit the snow-covered trail. I had calories and water for up to 12h in my pack. It’s better better to be safe than sorry in the desert. And, because of the snow and cold, I had lots of extra layers that I’m sure I would shed in a few miles as I descended to lower elevations.

At the start, 29F, windy, about 2″ of snow on the ground.

A crunchy 2″ of snow.

Finally a hint of daylight.

It’s going great. Just keep moving.

The storm left everything soaking wet.

But first it continued to snow lightly for several miles, then the snow gradually disappeared and left a rather treacherous layer of blank ice for a few miles. As I hit the bottom of the valley, the ice was gone, but then it started to rain lightly. This was going to be a great day. I figured at least I wouldn’t run out of water.

Looking back into the hills. The ice was finally gone. But soon the light rain started.

Beware of the cholla.

The lingering winter storm.

Making my way through a sandy wash along a brief stretch of County Road S2.

Historical marker near “Foot and Walker Pass” by Blair Valley.

As I crossed into the next mountain range, the clouds disappeared and gave way to blue skies. By then I had shed all layers and was running in a T-shirt. That’s also when the sand started. And it never ended until the end. Many parts were soft and deep, some parts were more hard-packed.  Needless to say that running in sand is hard and of limited fun. Especially when it seems to never end. I continued…because that was basically the only option.

This is where the sand started, and never really ended.

Grinding up into the Pinyon mountains.

Heart Attack Hill. It’s a lot steeper than what it looks like. See how the 4-wheelers handle this at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3VNv48CfWCs. And here is how not to do it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wyIDNn73H4U

Buffalo gourd. The seeds are edible.

Looking back into the Hapaha flats. Yes, still sandy.

Heading into a seemingly never-ending canyon. Yes, with sand.

From 29F and snow into hot and sunny desert weather.

Heading into the last narrow canyon.

And suddenly I was done!

The day got hotter and hotter, the sand continued, and the canyons felt like they would never end. Yet, at some point they did. After making my way through one last wash, I reached the Split Mountain Road in 9:43:54.

Overall it was good day with a wide variety of conditions, amazing scenery, and lots of sand. Can this be done faster? Of course! With less extra layers, no snow, no ice, and a younger and fitter body…

Data

powered by Advanced iFrame

Resources