Mini Trip Reports for January, Random Thoughts

I had a few random thoughts that I wanted to post.

First and foremost: I wanted to thank the crew over at Saratoga Spa State Park.  They do an excellent job keeping the park open and accessible, even in the middle of winter.  A large portion of the walking paths, including the stretch along Avenue of the Pines and a good portion of the Putnam Road section are also kept relatively snow free.  It's wonderful, and it's very appreciated.

I went for a run today at lunch time, and found that even the back section, where Putnam Road is closed to traffic, had been partially cleared.  This section is always a bit snowy, presumably because cross-country skiers also use it to cross between the golf courses.  As I cruised up it today, I passed by two XC skiers doing just that.  When I got close, one of them asked, "Are we the only crazy people out today?" to which I replied, "Looks like it!"  I smiled and kept on running.

Part of my smile was due to the fact that I had put on my street running shoes for the first time in months.  I realized that I had been running and walking with 8mm+ drops for far too long, and that I'd have to re-adjust back down to lower drops if I was going to avoid another Achilles injury.  So, today, I went for a run in my 4mm drop shoes (Brooks PureFlow 2), with YakTrax on, because otherwise I would have been skating across the snow.  These shoes do not bite at all on snow.  They do give me +2 speed and +1 stamina, so I'm not complaining.

I got side tracked there.

Second on my list of thoughts: I also want to thank the crew at Wilton Wildlife Preserve and Park, for maintaining some excellent trails over at Camp Saratoga and Opdahl Farm.  I went for a snowshoe run there this weekend, and was amazed at how great the trails are.  I kept to the side as much as possible, to avoid damaging the XC ski tracks, but in many sections, there wasn't a single set of tracks, but rather a jumble of them.  It looked like two or three people had been ski-skating through, too, which didn't help with the confusion.  Anyway, I stayed to the side, and deferred to any skiers that I happened to encounter.

That reminds me: the lot was busy when I pulled up!  There were at least 8 other cars there, and as I ran, I saw so many people out on skis.  There were at least 2 snowshoers out, based on the tracks and, well, the two people that I saw walking down Scout Road to their car.  It was great to see so many people out and enjoying the winter.

I had two interesting observations: one, with my jacket tied around my waist and my lumbar pack on, I didn't get a deluge of snow every time I took a running step.  It might have been due to the the trail state, or it might have been due to the stuff around my waist.  I'll have to experiment some more.  Two, the few times that I was trailing a skier, I found that my snowshoe running pace (14:00-15:00) roughly matched their skiing pace.  I guess in my mind I had expected them to go faster than that. 

Well, that's about it.  Oh, and I'm also trying out an alternate lacing strategy (skipping the first crossover) for my boots, to see if that helps at all with the pinched toe.

Until next time, be excellent to each other.

Pause. Resume. Let's roll.

It has been several months since my last post, and I've got quite a bit to catch up on, so let's get to it.

The lump on my tendon is nearly gone: at times I can't find it, and at other times it's about the size of a mosquito bite.  I made the decision a couple of weeks ago to temporarily switch back to shoes with a higher heel drop, and it has made a significant difference.  Today, I wore my zero-drop Trail Gloves around the office, and I could feel soreness in my tendon just from the small amount of walking I had done.  So, I'll take that as a sign that I need to keep wearing the higher lift shoes for a while, and work on slowly re-transitioning back down to zero-drop.

To that end, I have also picked up a few new pairs of running shoes; the lovely folks down at Fleet Feet were able to get me set up with a pair for the road and a pair for the trail.  I'll have more on those shoes once I've had enough time to really get to know them.

I also have been exploring various reserves and trails around the area, and I have a few posts that I want to write regarding these opportunities.  Along those lines, it looks like the Five Mile Trail is used for the Fall Back Five race, happening this weekend at Saratoga Spa State Park.  The start and end of the trail is on the green near the Hall of Springs and the Little Theater, respectively, and the rest of the trail is generally how I had laid it out.  It does flow counter clockwise, which is not the way I had it going.  I followed the trail a bit on my weekend run last Saturday, and shortly after turning left past the land bridge between the Orenda and Hathorn pavilions, the markers disappeared.  Specifically, they disappeared between the gravel road that links the picnic area and the Hathorn pavilion.  I knew where the trail would be, so I was able to pick it up again, but I got the impression that I wasn't supposed to take the left onto the marked segment: the trail was intended to continue on to the Hathorn pavilion.  There were parties at both pavilions so I didn't linger to investigate the matter further, but I will in the future.

Five Mile Trail, Saratoga Spa State Park

I also have several mountain hikes to describe, including a trip up Mt. Equinox in August.  What a strange experience that was.  It was nothing at all like what I had expected.  The Taconics are truly an interesting range.  Let's just say that the woods are lovely, dark, deep, and most definitely possessed.

One final note: make sure you're wearing orange out there!  Regular deer hunting season is in full swing in the Northern Zone (in the Saratoga area that means north of Route 29).  The Southern Zone opens on November 16th this year, and both zones run until December 8th.  Details are here, http://www.dec.ny.gov/outdoor/65231.html, and please be respectful to everyone you meet out there.

Reflections on Footwear, Part 2: Insufficient Data, Experimentation

After reviewing my previous post, it occurred to me that I really don't have enough data on barefoot hiking to draw any conclusions on its effects on erosion.  While I would consider myself to be a somewhat experienced hiker, I haven't logged enough miles without shoes to really comment on it.  I've logged 70 miles on trail and 45 off trail with minimalist shoes since September of last year, but I've only logged 8 miles on trail and 5 off trail while barefoot, since May of this year.  By comparison, I logged about 90 on trail / 105 off trail miles in traditional boots, shoes, and sneakers last year, and 30 on / 60 off this year, before I gave them up.  So, basically, what I'm saying is that I don't know anything about barefoot hiking.  I'm working on that, though.

Three weeks ago I decided to see if it was possible to just give up footwear entirely.  All of my shoes were hurting me, in one way or another, and I was getting frustrated.  It has been an extremely interesting transition.  When I first started walking around barefoot outside, the thing that worried me and hurt the most was hot asphalt: the black material collects the heat of the sun and can get quite hot.  After dealing with it day-after-day for a short while, asphalt generally just feels warm now, although occasionally it's still hotter than I can handle.  (Interestingly enough, it retains the heat of the sun long into the night, so that even on a cool night, the asphalt can still be warm.  Excellent.)

It hasn't been an entirely positive experience, however.  Carpet, of all things, has been giving me problems.  My skin doesn't tolerate polyester very well, and it seems that most of the carpeting that I walk upon contains polyester fibers.  My skin tends to get irritated when I'm in contact with it for any length of time, and after a while it starts to get physically damaged.  Last winter I tried out SmartWool's touchscreen-compatible gloves, which have a polyester-and-unspecified-metal material on the tip of the thumb and first finger of each glove.  Despite it only being a small amount of fabric, and despite the fact that they were only my hands for a short while each day, I still developed cracked and irritated skin in the area where the polyester was.  So I suppose it shouldn't be too much of a surprise that polyester carpet would irritate my skin, and the edge of my heel would get cracked from being in contact with it so much.

Before going barefoot, I had noticed a few times that my feet would get irritated on the carpet at home.  Now I find myself looking for any opportunity to get my feet up off of the carpet.  There (apparently) is polyester carpet all over the place: on the floor at work, on the floor at home, and even in the floor of my car.  I think that in the past I was subconsciously avoiding being barefoot on the carpets around the house.  I would prefer to stand on the linoleum-covered areas, or the one nylon carpeted room that we have (the only carpet that we've had to replace so far), or I would have socks on.  This is just conjecture, of course, but it seems to be true when I think about it.

So where does that leave me? I'm not entirely sure. I really enjoy walking around barefoot. It's amazing how much sensory information we ignore while in shoes: the ground offers a variety of textures, temperatures and resistance, and very little of it gets through our shoes, even minimal ones. I feel a psychological benefit, as well, in that I feel very happy while walking barefoot. It's hard to say if that's a short-lived, novelty-of-the-moment happiness, or something more.  That happiness is diminished, regardless, by the irritation of polyester underfoot.

I'll figure out some compromise soon, I'm sure, or my soles will adapt like they did to asphalt.  It remains to be seen.

Until next time, "be excellent to each other."

Reflections on Minimalist and Imaginary Footwear, Part 1: Erosion

... so think positively and do not let the shod see you wincing.

- Richard Keith Frazine, B.D., The Barefoot Hiker

I have logged over 110 miles in minimalist footwear since last Fall, split up between running and walking, over a variety of terrain.  I have also logged 6 whole miles without any footwear whatsoever over the last month.  My imaginary footwear, if you will.  What follows are my observations and reflections on this experience.  This will be broken up into several posts, with each post focusing on a theme.  Today's theme is erosion.

This past weekend I had the pleasure to go off and hike one of the Adirondack 46rs.  While the majority of the peaks are still under a voluntary closure, due to the trails being sodden, a few are on the "OK" list, including Big Slide, which I hiked up with four companions: two humans and two canines.  I did this trip in a pair of Vibram FiveFingers, specifically a pair of Bikila LSs, and this was my second time hiking up a mountain in this pair of shoes.  Their intended purpose is for running, but I have found them adequately suited for hiking.

There was a bit of mental tennis about going out and doing it barefoot, but Mr. Frazine convinced me, through the book quoted at the top of this piece, that this would be a very bad idea for a first barefoot hike.  I did get out yesterday to do a shorter hike in my bare feet, over relatively flat terrain.  Yesterday's hike was over well-drained, sandy ground, so some of what follows is necessarily hypothetical and not empirical.  I have never walked through six or more inches of blackened standing water in my bare feet, and I have no intention of ever doing so.

I would like to address one of the stated reasons for wearing minimalist footwear on the trail, which is to reduce damage.  The idea is that you are stepping with less force, in footwear that weighs less than a traditional boot, and therefore you are damaging the trail less.  This was mentioned in The Barefoot Hiker in Chapter 4, although he also talks about damage to grasses or other plants, which does not come in to this piece.  I am talking strictly about well-established hiking trails here.

I understand the concept, that wearing less on your foot would reduce erosion, but until a controlled study has been done, we're only left with empirical evidence.  The only thing that comes close to a study of this that I am aware of, is the Leave No Trace pratice of always walking through muddy areas, which has been shown to strengthen trails and reduce damage.

Here are my thoughts and observations:

1. Over dry ground, I do not see a difference between the various forms of footwear, or lack thereof.
2. When the ground is damp, I do see a difference.  Minimalist footwear or bare feet will often leave only a slight impession, whereas a boot will often leave a deeper impression.  So, over slightly wet terrain, I agree with the hypothesis.
3. When there is standing mud, this becomes less true.  The minimalist or barefoot hiker must will themselves to step into the mud of unknown depth.  This does get easier over time, but I found it to be a constant effort.  In boots, an inch of mud is no problem, whatsoever.  It doesn't even touch the upper.  A few inches of mud is generally not a problem, either, and it only ever really becomes a problem when the boot is submerged past the lowest point of entry (usually the top of the boot, but occasionally the tongue, in a poorly constructed boot).  In minimalist footwear, an inch of mud will soak your foot.   When barefoot, you run the risk of stepping on something hidden in the mud, and so must take great caution.  The natural tendency in minimalist or imaginary footwear is therefore to avoid the mud, and to walk on (and therefore erode) the edge of the trail.  This tendency can be overcome, but it takes willpower.
4. When this mud gives way to deep pools of standing water, I feel that the barefoot hiker is at a loss.  Unlike a stream which can generally be peered into, the mud puddle is impossible to penetrate with the eyes, and the water itself must be avoided, regardless of the footwear.  This is especially true for the barefoot hiker, for whom the pool provides almost certain danger, in the form of unseen sharp objects and a large supply of microorganisms feeding off of the decaying material.  This is further complicated by the fact that the dead wood and slimy rocks that we walk along to traverse these deep pools are, well, slimy.  It's easy to fall off of them.  I would not want to risk this while barefoot.  I would go around.  At least in the minimalist footwear, I can accept a slightly higher risk factor, and balance along the logs and rocks placed haphazardly in the mud.  I still do not want to fall in, since I could still suffer a puncture wound.  In boots it becomes much less of an issue.  The worst that will happen is that your foot might get wet if you fall in.
5. Finally, continuing the empirical evidence, in my experience over the weekend, I found that I displaced as much mud in the deeply muddy sections as my boot-shod companions.  Every time I watched them walk through a muddy section that was several inches deep, and then watched myself walk through it, the mud displacement was very similar.  Granted, I weigh slightly more than they do, so it would be good to repeat the observations with someone who weighs the same as I do; preferably someone who weighs the same when gear and clothing is taken into consideration.

So, in conclusion, on this first point, I do not see minimalist footwear or bare feet causing any less erosion on the most sensitive terrain I have encountered: muddy trails.  The weight of the user is far more important than the style of footwear.   I would love to see this disproven or confirmed through repeatable tests, but in the meantime, all I can do is observe.  I would also advise hikers and runners to look for and respect voluntary trail closures, to help keep the trails in the best shape possible.

P.S. On a personal note, I will say that I enjoyed walking through the mud and streams.  I alternated between rock hopping and simply walking straight through the muddy sections, and found that I preferred just walking through them.  Yes, my feet were sodden by the end of the hike, but I had already anticipated this, and had a towel and a clean pair of sandals waiting for me in the car.  The rock hopping was actually more painful in the Bikilas than it is in boots, presumably because of the extra impact on the ball of my foot.  The streams felt refreshing, and it was interesting to see how much of the mud would be scrubbed off by the action of the water alone on each iteration.  While I expected them to be wiped clean every time, a decent amount of mud remained after a few seconds in the running water.

Well, that's it.  Until next time, "be excellent to each other..."