Colorado Trail Recap Pt. 3
On Sunday, July 23rd at 1:56am, Tara Dower and I began a team self-supported Fastest Known Time attempt on the Colorado Trail from Waterton Canyon near Denver. On Monday, July 31st at 11:55pm, Tara completed the trail in Durango in a women’s supported FKT while her ragtag crew, including me, cheered her in. As you can imagine, a whole lot happened between the start and finish of what ended up being an epic and unexpected story. This is the third and final part of my Colorado Trail recap. You can read part one here and part two here.
Picking up where we left off at Spring Creek Pass: 357.8 miles down, 128.6 miles to go. Tara arrived late afternoon following a particularly difficult section, but I was delighted to see she was running down the last couple switchbacks. Doug and Melinda, who had joined for a large part of that section, were not far behind. I’m always so impressed with Tara’s ability and motivation to run through serious discomfort.
She embraced her good friend Reese, who had arrived to help crew for the remainder of the trail, and she met Michael for the first time, who had his pack loaded up with all of her sleeping gear and a good amount of her food, and would be joining her for the next 55.3 miles to Little Molas Creek Trailhead. Christine got right to work caring for Tara’s feet as the rest of us hovered around trying to help however possible. The mood felt light and happy, we had such a great team. As we wrapped up taking care of Tara and it became time for her and Michael to depart, the enormity and difficulty of what was head seemed to sink in for Tara, and all of us. She had an emotional goodbye with Doug and Melinda, who had been so incredibly generous with their time and effort in helping Tara. We all took turns hugging and there were tears all around. We wouldn’t be seeing Tara for 50+ trail miles. A lot can happen over so many miles! During that time, she and Michael would be hiking over the longest exposed section of the trail, and reach the highest point of the trail at 13,271 feet.
After Tara and Michael hiked off, I caravanned with Reese to her home a few hours away, and got treated to my first real sleep in a bed since Mt. Princeton a few days ago, AND got to do laundry for the first time since beginning the hike (thanks Reese!). Before going to bed, with Reese’s help I attempted to figure out the logistics of A) Finding a pacer for Tara for any part of her last 73.3 miles and/or B) Finding road crossings to meet Tara during that last section, but wasn’t having much luck with either. I went to sleep feeling frazzled and unsure of what to do.
The next morning I woke up feeling the best I had all week and had an idea: I could join Tara for her last section. Why not? I was (relatively) well rested, I would have (relatively) fresh legs, and I was available and ready. Plus, how cool would it be to finish what we started together? I shared the idea with Reese, and she agreed to help me drop off my car at the end of the trail in Durango, then we’d carpool to our meeting point with Tara.
So, we made the trip to drop off the car in Durango, picked up some pizza by Tara and Michael’s request via his GPS tracker, and made our way to Molas to meet Christine with plenty of time to spare. It was an overcast, blustery day with storm clouds just seeming to hover nonstop over the mountains Tara and Michael were hiking through. It also turned out Doug and Melinda decided to stay to help for another day (wahoo!), so their car was parked at the trailhead as they had hiked in to meet Tara and Michael.
It was such a joyous moment to see Tara, Michael, Doug, and Melinda come in. I didn’t yet know the stories of all they’d seen and been through, but they looked exhausted and relieved to be there. Tara and I hugged and told each other how happy we were to see each other. The crew sprung into action. It was cold and sprinkling rain. Tara’s clothes were soaked wet, so she changed into dry clothes and I hung her wet things all over the driver’s seat of Reese’s car. There was no way everything would dry over the next few hours. Technically she had the option to change into a different set of clothes for her remaining miles, but she said she felt attached to the clothes she’d been wearing all week- so they’d be with her to the end!
Tara sat in a chair by Christine’s car with an umbrella attached, wrapped in a blanket and clutching the pizza we’d gotten for her while Christine and Reese took care of Tara’s feet. Tara had me take a video of her listing out all the things she’d want in her pack for the last 73 miles, that way we’d have a reference while she slept.
Tara asked me what the plan was for the next section. Not quite taking her meaning, I said something along the lines of, “Well, you’ll sleep here for a few hours, and if you are feeling up to it, it will be a push from here to the finish.” …Which she already knew, so she clarified, “Will anyone be coming with me?” And it only then dawned on me that I hadn’t actually communicated the plan I’d landed on that morning. D’oh! “Oh… me!” Tara looked surprised and then her eyes lit up. “You’re coming with me?” “Yeah I’m coming with you!”
Michael’s car was there at Molas, and he had offered to let Tara sleep in the back, which had a mattress and a set of compression boots (battery-powered inflatable boots that squeeze/compress then release your legs, it sort of feels like when you get your blood pressure taken at the doctor’s office–but all up and down your legs). She called it the best 2 hour sleep of her life. Reese camped nearby in a tent, and I snoozed in the front passenger seat of her car, the sound of rain pattering on the roof lulling me to sleep.
We woke up to our alarms at 10:00pm. The rain had stopped. Tara took time to eat a good breakfast, and Reese and I packed up Tara’s things for her last long haul. Before taking off, the crew and Tara stood in a semi-circle all together. This was the last time we’d all be together before she finished. She took a quick video of everyone to capture the moment. It was time!
It was strange and beautiful hiking over the next pass in the middle of the night. The sky was clear and the moon was out, and we had the mountains to ourselves. I can only imagine how fatigued Tara was feeling, and I was impressed with her ability to keep moving forward, even with a dirt nap or two thrown in. She said her eyelids were getting heavy, and I tried to think of anything that could help keep her awake. Something that always helps me is singing. Earlier in the week I had been blasting the Frozen soundtrack in my car and singing along in an effort to stay alert (and as I mentioned previously, I pulled over to sleep a couple times–"don’t be a hero” as my dad always says). So I played the Frozen soundtrack for Tara from my phone as I followed behind her and was tickled when she started singing along. I joined in. We were just two women hiking along, singing under the stars.
After the sun rose, we were treated to a sweeping landscape of meadows and wildflowers, and saw not one but two herds of elk in the distance. Throughout the day we would pause at streams to filter and refill our water bottles. Between us we had one “good” filter, so I would filter Tara’s water and send her on her way, stay behind to filter my own water, then jog a little to eventually catch back up with her.
We began the ascent of our last big pass of the day. It would be crucial to have a good weather window to get over this pass. During Tara’s last long stretch, she and Michael had to wait below tree line for a storm to blow over before continuing on to a more exposed section. If the same thing happened today, that could impact Tara’s chances of finishing the trail under 9 days, as it was coming down to the hour.
We heard some rumblings of thunder and sure enough, as we were hiking along a ridge but in the trees still, a storm blew right in complete with heavy rain and hail pelting and stinging our skin. I lost feeling in my hands and worried about how cold we might get, and whether we would get a chance to warm up again as the day went on. Thankfully the sun did come out, and my clothes and the trail dried out surprisingly quickly.
We came upon one more stream to fill up at before hitting the long and exposed section of the trail. I filled up Tara’s water; she asked if I wanted her to wait, but I said she’d better go due to the possibility of impending storms. So Tara took off, and it took me another five minutes or so to fill my two bottles, then I took off after her.
So far that day, it normally took me maybe 15-30 minutes to catch up to Tara after these stops. But a good amount of time went by, perhaps an hour or two, and she was nowhere to be found. I made my way up to the exposed ridge, which was completely epic and breathtaking. It reminded me of the Presidential range in the White Mountains. I could also see a long ribbon of trail stretched out before me, zig-zagging along the ridge, through talus fields, and the occasional patch of pine trees. Then from a long distance, I could see a tiny neon green dot–Tara! I couldn’t believe how much distance she had put on me. This was someone who had been putting in ~55 mile days for eight days straight, her feet in pretty horrific condition, and enduring pain and discomfort that I can only relate to as a distant memory from my experience on the Appalachian Trail.
I let out a laugh and smiled, in complete awe of my friend. Then I felt incredibly disappointed in myself, as this felt like a repeat of earlier in the week when I couldn’t keep up with Tara during our joint self-supported effort. I felt as though I were failing my friend yet again. Yet, every time I glanced down at my watch, it showed that my speed was steadily increasing as the miles went on. I had majorly picked up my pace in an effort to catch up with Tara; which meant that she was seriously flying across those mountains. Then, and now, I am still so in awe and proud of Tara for the strength and determination she displayed. The image of her as a tiny green dot in the distance, making her way over those majestic mountains in earnest pursuit of a goal, will be forever stamped in my memory.
I messaged Michael and Reese to alert them that Tara was making very good time, and would make it to Kennebec Pass earlier than expected. Michael would be meeting us there with some supplies–it was a rough road to get there, but he was able to access it with his motorcycle! We all worried that Michael might not make it in time, and that Tara might go right on by.
I felt stressed about what I would do. We were approaching 50 miles for the day, and I couldn’t keep up with Tara. And she still had at least twenty miles to go after Kennebec Pass. What good would I be trailing so far behind her? But also we were in a remote place, and it wasn’t so easy to just dip out without a ride or a plan. Michael’s motorcycle wasn’t made for two people, so that wasn’t an option. So would it be that Tara went on to finish the trail essentially by herself, and I would follow and roll in an hour or two later? I didn’t know what to do.
Still worried about whether or not Michael would miss Tara, I breathed a sigh of relief when A) I got a message from Michael saying he’d arrived at the pass, and B) I made it around a bend and could see Tara in the distance, not quite at the pass yet. He made it in time, with just minutes to spare.
When I arrived, Tara was sitting on a log with a bunch of treats laid out that Michael had brought, including a ziplock bag of McDonald’s chicken nuggets. I joined them, feeling relieved that Michael had reached Tara in time, then ashamed for what I was about to tell Tara, that I didn’t think I could keep up, which meant she would be continuing on her own. Michael, knowing the situation, had been able to find a ride for me with some folks that were up on the pass taking photos. I felt horrible and started to tear up. Then I couldn’t believe that I was crying when Tara was the one out there doing the very hard thing.
I don’t know how Tara felt in that moment, but she was outwardly calm and offered a smile and some chicken “nugs”. It was very sweet. Michael asked if he could take a photo, just to capture the moment. It had to have been a blow to know she’d be continuing onto this final stretch alone. Michael and I were able to offer a bit of solace, that we’d plan to run/hike in and meet her several miles before she reached the end. I shared with Tara what I did know, that based on my calculations, even at the pace I’d been going, a sub-9 day finish was within reach for her. This meant that at Tara’s pace, it was well within reach. The most unpredictable section of the trail was behind us, and she’d have mostly downhill, relatively gentle trail to the end. This was good. We hugged, and off she went.
The very kind strangers/trail angels drove me to the bottom of the road, where Michael would come back to pick me up in his van, then we’d meet up with Reese and make our way to the finish.
I sat on the pavement waiting in an empty parking lot, feeling dazed after hiking for 19.5 hours. Keep in mind, Tara had been hiking for 8 days straight and had only gotten two hours of sleep prior to my joining her, and was still going! Michael rolled up in his van, and we made our way to the hotel that Tara, Reese, and I would be staying in that night. We met Reese there and unloaded most of Tara’s things. One less thing to do later. We stopped by the grocery store and Subway to pick up some refreshments for Tara for when she finished, plus some balloons.
It was dark when we arrived at the trailhead. By the light of our headlamps we tied the balloons to the signs at the trailhead, then Michael dashed up the trail to meet Tara as far in as possible. Reese and I hiked up the trail a mile or two in to wait for them at a bridge. It wasn’t long before we saw two headlamps bobbling down the switchbacks. We cheered as they got closer, then as they approached the bridge we realized how quickly they were moving. They weren’t just jogging along in an ‘ultra shuffle’, they were running. and I exclaimed as much, “Oh wow, you’re RUNNING running!” Tara had made great time in the last section with over two hours to spare to go under 9 days. Again, I was still just in awe. We ran as a group mostly in silence. She had around two miles to go still. The trail was rocky here, plus there was a steep drop off to the side, so I was mostly concerned about all of us staying upright.
With about half mile to go, Reese and I peeled off to take a shortcut to the end with Michael’s van, and from there we waited. After several minutes, we saw two headlamps racing down the trail. We whipped out our phones to take videos and cheered in Tara as she came in with a huge smile and the look of sweet relief on her face. Unlike finishing a road race or ultra marathon, there were no crowds, no announcer, no finisher chute, no tape, no music. Tara’s finish line was a humble one, just a small gathering of friends, new and old. She did it. We did it!
In the end, Tara broke Betsy Kalmeyer’s longstanding record of 9 days, 10 hrs, 52 minutes set in 2003 with a new women’s supported record of 8 days, 21 hours, 59 minutes! She did so carrying a full pack with her sleeping gear, supplies, and food the first four days and then some. We started as a team and finished as a much bigger team! To Tara: congratulations again, my friend! Thank you to Lindsey, Christine, Melinda, Doug, Michael, Reese, Debbie, Bec, Robert, Reid, Tony the Trail Angel, the Colorado Trail community, and run/hike community at large for coming together to make this a true supported effort.
Tara’s FKT has been verified via Fastest Known Time! Check it out on the Colorado Trail FKT page. Visit @tara.dower and @pinkfeathers on Instagram to read our daily recaps and see more photos from the hike. Check out also this article about Tara’s record by Micah Ling for Trail Runner Magazine!
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