SEARCH RESULTS

I created a video of my Arizona Trail FKT hike from 11 months ago and dropped the finished product on YouTube. The first half is the commentary of the Arizona Trail speed record hike, and the second half of the video is some time-lapse footage that I took while crossing the great state of Arizona. The trail really is a lot more than just a wide-open swath of desert. Between the Grand Canyon and the Sky Islands, I have recommended this trail more than any other in the last couple of years. An overview I wrote of the trail can be found here and my full trip report of the FKT attempt can be found here. Enjoy the 2-minute art project I put together: Arizona Trail FKT hike video #thruhikingthearizonatrail #ArizonaTrailVideo #howtothruhikethearizonatrail #jeffgarmirearizonatrail #fkt #azttripvideo #FKTvideo #FKTtriprecap #arizona #howlongistheazt #backpackingthearizonatrail #howlongisthearizonatrail #jeffgarmirefkt #ArizonaTrailFKT

I am coming up on the nine-year anniversary of my first thru-hike. I had no idea that after hiking the Pacific Crest Trail in 2011, everything would take off, and long-distance hiking, adventuring, fastpacking, mountaineering, and trail running would take over my life. It has been a wild ride, but one that has led me to discover some of the greatest places within our own massive country. The Arizona Trail is the best example of a trail/challenge that changed the way I think and stereotype the areas of our country. I first stepped foot on the Arizona Trail as part of the Great Western Loop. I had finished the intense slog through the Grand Enchantment Trail and was looking forward to a more defined footpath to take me to the Grand Canyon for the first time. I was not disappointed. In my first extended period on the trail, I logged about 500 miles on the National Scenic Trail. It was enough to get me hooked. While the trail does showcase the best Saguaro of Arizona, it is so much more than a desert landscape. Arizona is full of Sky Islands. Sky islands are isolated mountains with lowland (often desert) environments on all sides. In terms of the Arizona Trail, this means one is never in one environment for long. Beginning in Coronado National Memorial, the trail shoots straight up to Miller peak and seesaws up and down through the Huachuca, Santa Rita, and Rincon Mountains within the first 200 miles. Near Tucson, the trail climbs through the Santa Catalina before crossing the largest of the true desert sections near Oracle. The trail quickly climbs into the Superstitions, drops to Roosevelt Lake and then ascends into the Four Peaks Wilderness and the Mazatzal Mountains. After the most rugged sections, the route follows the Mogollon Rim toward Flagstaff and up towards the Grand Canyon. Prior to the “Big Ditch” of the southwest, the Arizona Trail crosses the highest point in the San Francisco Peaks. This is the location of the second ski resort of the Trail. The first is nearly 500 trail miles south on Mt. Lemmon. The trail ends with a crossing of the Grand Canyon and the Kaibab Plateau. It ends at the Utah Border after giving travelers a wild 800-mile ride through a condensed, diverse, scenic landscape. In April 2019, I completed the Arizona Trail in its entirety at a quick pace. It was the perfect trail to challenge myself. The climbs were tough but beautiful, the landscape was dry but expansive, and the trail community was very welcoming. The Arizona Trail is a burgeoning destination thru-hike that already sees people from all walks of life and countries attempting. What I think makes the Arizona Trail so special is the time of year it can be hiked and the length. With the majority of people hiking the AZT in the shoulder season, it is a break and different from most popular trails in the United States. The second reason I believe the trail is so perfect is the length. 800 miles is the perfect challenge to be able to immerse oneself in the thru-hiking lifestyle, but also a manageable enough distance to maintain a career and off the trail obligations. Here is a link to a downloadable GPS (GPX format file) and KML file for the Arizona National Scenic Trail (Linked Here) Buy the Trail guide from Guthook Arizona Trail Map To better illustrate the beauty of the trail, here are two movies that explain and showcase the beauty of the southwest. Dylan Harris made a short film, “Adventure Lives at Home” about an Arizona Native who takes his first thru-hike across his home state: In early 2020 Darwin also released a film, “Through The Great Southwest” about the Arizona trail and the amazing culture around it: As always, you can support this content on Patreon The Arizona Trail Association also gives out a buckle to all of the finishers of the trail. Here is mine! Arizona Trail Buckle #hikinginarizona #backpacking #arizonatrail #arizona #hike #thruhike

Training for the Barkley Marathons I have no coach and very little organized running experience. But, maybe this could be to my advantage. I have thought of training as filling three buckets. While Barkley is thought of as a running race, a good loop time is between 8 and 9 hours for 26 miles. I’m my mind this means there is running, power hiking, and extreme elevation gain. These are my buckets: Running, power hiking, and vertical gain. I have bounced between three styles while trying to maintain a day off each week. This has shifted my focus with each workout. On Vertical gain days I don’t look at the mileage. The workout is completely guided by the feet of elevation gain. But, on running days I work only to either time or mileage. To fill the power hiking bucket I fueled my inner snowbird. Living at elevation (Denver and Tahoe) has been really good for my fitness and performance, so with the Barkley Marathons looming, I wanted to get back to elevation. Through a strange series of events, I ended up in Montana at 5,000’ of elevation. There is a hill nearby that gains 1,000’ in half a mile. There are also many ranch roads to run on. But, since it’s winter traction is often necessary. Because it is winter, I had to go elsewhere to fill my power hiking bucket. Lots of things fell into place and I was able to escape to Arizona to put in 10 days of training on dry trails with a backpack on. I felt this was important because the fast packing style is essentially what got me into the Barkley Marathons. I am down here now, and the goal is to log 300-350 miles before leaving. I have always found 300 miles is about the sweet-spot for being in FKT shape. There should be another training update before the Barkley Marathons. #backpacking #running #training #hiking #Barkleymarathons

The Barkley Marathons are one of the stranger races on the planet. Imagine taking an ultramarathon, putting it in the forest, removing all 21st-century technology, and building your own aid stations. If you are picturing this in your mind, you are still way off. The process to enter the race is a closely guarded secret, so we will gloss over the details involved in gaining entrance into the race or even landing on the “Weight” List. How it Starts: Runners show up at the state park campground the day before the start window and receive their packet of instructions and a map of the course. Virgins (first-time runners) bring a license plate from their home state, and Veterans (prior starters but non-finishers) bring a random item as stipulated on the initial application. These can range from tube sox to button-up shirts. Prior finishers must show up with a pack of Camel Filter cigarettes. Once everyone is checked in and they have their first bib number (a runner receives multiple bibs during the race) the Barkley Marathons get even stranger. The start of the race is floating. No one except Lazarus Lake knows exactly when the race will start. Runners are told of a 12-hour window in which to be prepared for the lighting of the cigarette, but the true signal comes only one hour before. A conch is blown in the middle of the campground at a time in the 12-hour window to signify that the race will begin in one hour. After the hour has elapsed, all runners stand at a yellow gate and await Laz’s lighting of the cigarette. After the first puff of smoke, the Barkley Marathons have begun. How the Race Works: The race is called the Barkley Marathons because each loop is about a marathon in length. Between each loop (and after-touching the yellow gate which signals the end and beginning of each loop) a runner may resupply and refuel at their campsite with their crew. The race is 5 loops in length, and completing 3 of them in 40 hours signifies a “Fun Run.” The five total have to be completed in 60 hours to be a true Barkley Marathons finisher. There have been 15 finishers in recorded history. Rules: There is no GPS allowed on the course, and runners are to rely on maps and compasses for navigation. In the dark and fog, this proves an even larger challenge. The route of the loops has a number of books. This is where the bib number comes in. The bib number signifies the page number the runner has to tear out of each book to prove they followed the correct route. At the end of each loop, the race director (Laz) checks the pages. As for keeping time on the course, each runner is given a cheap race watch that is set to “race time” Other notes: When a runner quits or misses a cutoff, Taps is played by a bugler while the runner stands at the yellow gate. After a runner has started a loop and until they touch the yellow gate at the end of the loop they may receive no outside aid or help. There are two “water” stations on the course, but both are subject to being frozen and useless. If you would like to learn more about the Barkley Marathons here are two links to Documentaries Where Dreams Go to Die and The Race That Eats Its Young. #trailrunning #ultralight #marathon #wherearethebarkleymarathons #running #howtoapplyforthebarkleymarathons #barkley #ultralightbackpacking #jeffgarmire #howtogetinthebarkleymarathons #hiking #Barkleymarathons #ultrarunning #whatarethebarkleymarathons

At the beginning of the year the Long Trail was merely a bullet point on a list of “Fastest Known Times” that I would potentially try to break. It was the item on the list I was the least familiar with. Its reputation for being rugged, intense, and possible to do unsupported had landed it within my tentative plan, but it barely garnered a thought until about a month before the attempt would take place. After completing the Arizona Trail FKT and gaining some experience in the heat and humidity of the Pinhoti Trail, the Long Trail moved to the top of my list. I maintained a baseline level of fitness by running but would not move towards peaking for the attempt until I entered an extended period of hiking and running trail. I traveled down to California to train in the high sierra and push myself in the altitude along the John Muir Trail and many nearby and adjoining trails. Through three weeks I logged hundreds of miles through snow, above 10k’ and racking up thousands of feet in elevation. The trails and terrain were not directly comparable, but I tried to mimic exertion level in spurts and prepare my body for day after day pushes with a heavy pack. It was a very flexible training style full of volume in a non-rigid format. Some days were long and difficult, while other days were much easier. It was all about getting a base that I was comfortable with in going into a trail I knew little about. I flew out to Burlington from Los Angeles but had multiple problems with the trip. From the start my plane was delayed many hours and I was stuck overnight in the LA airport. I couldn’t sleep and after two missed connections I arrived in Burlington as a shell of myself. I stayed with Mcgoober and Cyclops (trail names) and got one good night of rest, sorted out my food and was about as ready as I would ever be when they dropped me off at Journeys End trailhead. I walked to the shelter, and then on to the monument to make sure I had this bit figured out before my start the next morning. I sat at the beginning of the trail and visualized what the next morning would be like. Once I left the Canadian border there would be no looking back and the giant push would begin. I returned to the shelter and shut the door, blocking out all the light to go to bed at 6pm. Day 1 – 48 miles I was up at 5am but considered trying to sleep longer. The clock hadn’t started yet, and I knew I could try to build up a bit more rest before it all began, but I was too ready. I unpacked everything, and then repacked, making sure each item was exactly where I wanted it and then casually strolled, exerting myself as little as possible to the terminus. I was planning on a 6am start. I had my photos and I couldn’t wait any longer, so I took my first steps at 5:59am. The time had started and the push began. I had so much adrenaline that I moved with reckless abandon. The trail didn’t seem as hard as people had inferred. I was navigating hills, mud, rocks, and obstacles with relative ease. I passed hikers at shelters with only a quick nod, intent on continuing to push. I was over Jay Peak by 10 am and still feeling amazing. My legs were firing on all cylinders and I was trotting the downs and slowly jogging the flats. My energy seemed endless. I continued to misjudge my fluid intake and constantly ran out of water, but managed to find a refill before any significant time passed. My spirits were high. Over Gilpin Mountain and Domey’s Dome I enjoyed the names of some of these shorter mountains. I was having fun despite the elevation gain continuing to rack up quickly. I made it through the rugged Devils Gulch before dinner and yet still felt the need to continue to push. My mileage was so far beyond what I had anticipated I let my mind stray to how much faster I could complete this trail than even my goal of 6 days. The climbs weren’t that long and the descents were not that taxing. I didn’t recognize or accept I was navigating this terrain fueled by adrenaline and the freshness of my first day. I made it all the way past prospect rock and made myself stop for the night near Lamoille River. I knew I needed to try to force myself to get 4 hours of sleep this first night or it would come back to hurt me later. It was closing in on 1am and if I continued to hike, my 4 hours of sleep would bleed into the early hours of daylight. This is not something I could let happen. I needed to be moving for the entirety of the daylight hours, so I slept. Day 2 – 35 miles I awoke around 4:30am and was a shell of what I had been yesterday. I bent my leg up to put a shoe on and it immediately cramped up. I tried the other leg and the same thing happened. Anxiety hit me hard. Had I pushed too hard on day 1? I rolled over, got up and walked over to a log to aid in getting my shoes on and began hiking. The total tear down time for camp never eclipsed 15 minutes on the trip. Efficiency is my strength, and helped me bank time throughout the day. I was sluggish from the start. My legs did not have the same power as most mornings after a big day. It reminded me of my first, and only, ultramarathon to date in which I drastically over trained and neglected to taper. It seemed I had over trained and not taken enough time off before this trail as well. The challenge had swung like a pendulum from a physical push to a mental challenge already on the morning of day 2. The big first day only compounded this, there was nothing I could do now, but relentlessly move forward. It was a brutal 8 mile, 3k’ climb up Whiteface Mountain to begin the day, and my expectations were checked. I would not be breaking 5 days or something incredible as I had let myself believe the day prior, each step was a challenge and I began to focus on moments as opposed to totality and trying to project my current progress over the length of the trip. I was trying to eat as much food as possible to get my pack weight down, and to aid in the comfort of these steep climbs. It was a brutal day in which my psyche slipped into a negative spiral early on. It was all I could do to try to pull my thoughts back into the moment and appreciate what was in front of me. I bounced around some ups and downs and made it to the top of Madonna Peak much later than I had hoped. Here I sat down to collect myself and eat a burrito slathered in mustard. What was I in for? I tried every mental exercise to get myself right and positive as I descended to the base of Mt Mansfield. The mileage kept showing how close the peak was, but I was still descending. How would I climb up to nearly 4,400’ in such a short distance? Without stopping at the bottom, I began the ascent. There were people everywhere, and some Long Trail hikers warned me how steep it was, saying they took the bad weather route around. I shook this off; I was conquering this beast head on. Every few minutes I had to take a quick second to stop and collect myself before powering up again. My knees felt it and my quads burned. I was making such slow progress in horizontal miles that it was frustrating. Finally I hit a sign saying the chin was only a few tenths of a mile away and vowed to not stop until the top. I scrambled, scaled the rock, navigated and pulled myself up steps over three feet high and eventually topped out on the Vermont high point. It had taken a lot out of me. I took a quick picture but didn’t want to stop, so I followed the rocky route toward the forehead of the massive mountain. I hoped to run some of this, but it was too uneven and not conducive to getting in the flow of quick movement. When the true descent began, I was blown away by the challenge. If I thought going up was technical, this felt even more so. There were giant rocks with significant drops. I often sat down to lower myself to the ledge below. Rickety ladders provided aid in the most impossible sections, but even these required intricate moves to reach and slowly descend. Multiple times I would begin down a ladder facing out, only to turn around and back down the steep descent, often leading to another offset ladder that required more careful foot placement. By the time a more recognizable trail began, I was worked. The quads burned from the stabilizing they did on the steep descent and my feet ached from the hard, uneven rock. This was an adventure, and I smiled at the most unlikely time. I had just been given the opportunity to take a lap on nature’s playground and move my body in ways that few trails in the world require. I took a quick bathroom break and ate at Puffer shelter before making it up and over Bolton Mountain. The final descent of the day began, and I tried to take advantage, but my legs were gone. A few miles before Notch Road and the Winooski River I called it a day. It was not the day I thought I would have, but I figured I would make it up tomorrow, I wouldn’t. The major issue with my expectations on this day and the proceeding one were in the importance I was putting into horizontal miles and not taking account for the technical and steep terrain. My expectations were not aligned with reality and it was wearing on my emotional stability. I thought I should be able to navigate and travel over this trail as I had every other one in my life. There was just no time to be made up on these sections of uneven footing, steep trail and nasty descents. Not even on Nolan’s 14 had my expectations been so far removed from the reality of what was actually possible from my body. Day 3 – 33 miles I woke up and was moving quickly and fluidly down the descent to Notch Road and across the Winooski River. I crossed the bridge and on the other side was a beer sitting on a post with a note addressed to me. Some follower had tried to leave me trail magic. Unfortunately, being an unsupported attempt there was no way I was taking this beer and jeopardizing my attempt. After being without alcohol for weeks while training, it didn’t even sound appealing. I took the note, crumpled it up and added it to the trash bag I would carry throughout the attempt and left the beer at the spot for the next hiker to enjoy. I continued to enjoy the flat hiking, but that would all change when I hit Duxbury Road Trailhead. My climb began. Emotionally I was feeling like I would rebound from the depths of yesterday and attack today with an intensity unknown to mankind. I had no set mileage goals, but was operating at a comfortable exertion level. This foreign style of terrain in which not all miles are created equal continued to frustrate me and I wanted to try to fluidly move through it in a timely fashion. The 3,700’ climb up Camels Hump took place over 6 miles and worked me. I tried to consistently move forward, but the morning was full of micro-breaks where I would stop for 20-30 seconds just to catch my breath or slow my heartbeat. It was a tough climb that seemed to stretch forever. When I finally arrived at the top I was greeted by a thin layer of fog and lots of day hikers. Being already mildly frustrated by the morning timeline, I began my descent quickly. It was hiking across uneven rock slabs and was never comfortable. The steepness continued and I saw day hikers slip and fall on the unforgiving rocks. A few times it was steep enough I slid down on my butt to avoid falling and recreating the embarrassment of the day hikers. I crossed a series of ledges with white blazes simply painted across them, bottomed out, and then climbed a thousand feet once again up the side of Mount Ethan Allen. Ledges, rock and overall ruggedness continued through Burnt Rock Mountain and now that it was the heat of the day. The new factor entered the mix. The temperature eclipsed 90 degrees and had me sweating profusely with the extreme effort. I took off my shirt and it remained off for the next couple days. I took a quick break at Cowle’s Cove Shelter because I was worked over, but I didn’t have much time to waste if I wanted to salvage another day. The effort level was there, but I expected more out of myself in terms of trail miles. I had an inward struggle of defining what success was on the daily throughout this section, and it often led to a negative head space. A head space that was dangerous to occupy for an extended period of time out here. I continued to seesaw through the difficult terrain on my way to Appalachian Gap, and came around the corner and four hikers were coming north. Meat Sweats (aka Boot Sweat), T1000, Blue Blaze, and Butterfly continued the opposite direction, but not before warning me of the ruggedness of “App Gap.” In retrospect this seems comical because while rugged, it is a far cry from what the rest of the morning had held for me. I had made it to the portion of the trail in which the opinions and perspective of those heading north and those heading south differ greatly. I climbed up from the gap and was running low on water. Clouds were moving in and it looked like an afternoon rainstorm would be taking place. I got to Stark’s Nest as the first drops fell. Then the sky opened up and dumped. I took refuge from the rain to wait it out. In the meantime I filled all my bottles from the rain barrel, ate, and tried to pick the dirt out of my socks. When the weather improved, I left the shelter, much to the surprise of another group that had showed up in the storm. The ridge walking had begun. People had given me different points where the terrain improved, but in my mind I needed to at least make it over Mt. Abraham and then I would feel like easier terrain was ahead. It was straightforward night hiking with a headlamp at first, but then the clouds sunk lower and clung to the ridgetop. I crossed Mt Ellen, Nancy Hanks Peak, and was approaching Lincoln Peak when the foggy clouds grew thick enough that my light could not break through. I took off the headlamp and held it below my waist and pointed out. This seemed to offer enough visibility for me to bag the last two peaks on the ridgetop and begin the descent toward Lincoln Gap. I lost enough elevation to be out of the clouds, and then passed out for the night. It was another day of failing to meet my expectations. Day 4 – 48 miles Despite only being at mile 116 of 272, I still had my mind solely focused on finishing the Long Trail in less than 6 days. This meant that I had to up the intensity on what would certainly be easier terrain than the previous three days. I shot out of bed, packed quickly and began to fly down the trail. Through this reckless movement, I carelessly stuck the tip of my pole between two rocks, it stuck, I was surprised and lurched forward, landing squarely on the side of my foot and rolling my ankle. I screamed a curse embarrassingly loud. The frustration of the last two days, the pressure I put on myself, and the pain of the injury all combined to cause me to break my even keeled demeanor for a few moments. I looked down at the ankle and it was obvious that this was a bad one. It had already begun to swell and when I tested it, the joint was tender. I had to modify my gait to diminish the pain. This was a terrible blow to suffer at the beginning of what needed to be a very good day.  I crossed Lincoln Gap and wound through the green forests offering few views and little context as to what lie around. It was overcast but cool and perfect for logging good miles. My body felt good and my feet were in surprisingly good shape. The only roadblock was my ankle. I slowly loosened up and I was able to hobble the downhills in a modified run. Things were going well and the miles were productive. I flew through the rest of the Vermont Presidentials and crossed Brandon Gap late in the day. I finally had a sliver of positivity to attach my mood to. From Brandon Gap the terrain grew even gentler and I jogged along the largely flat trail. There was some hope and the ability to drop the Long Trail FKT to under 6 days was still a possibility. On this day it had shifted to being right at the edge of what I thought I could do, to something that was entirely achievable if things fell into place. As my mileage neared the mid-40s for the day, my mind began to go. I was exhausted. I knew today needed to be the last night of good sleep and the final push would begin tomorrow. Despite wanting to make it all the way to Tucker Johnson Campsite; I ended up staying about a mile short. I could have pushed through this mile, but at some point the miles are taking so long and cumbersome that you are robbing yourself of sleep. The difference in the time it takes to cover that mile when you are rested vs when you are exhausted are all net sleep hours that could be gained, and I always try to recognize when pushing at points like these is providing no end benefit. In my mind it is better to go to sleep earlier in the night and get up earlier as opposed to forcing yourself through a slow unproductive hour just to reach a mileage goal. While each day stands alone in terms of productivity and effort, they are all also fluidly related. Day 5 – 58 miles Waking up I had 108 miles to go. It would be the start for the final push, and my last real chance to try to break the 6 day mark. I moved fast, quickly crossing Route 4, and high tailed it up towards Killington Peak. While in the zone and watching my legs robotically move across the terrain I heard a rustle in the bushes off to my right. When I looked I saw a mother and a cub running down the hill away from me. So far this trip had been void of significant wildlife sightings and the bears brought a smile to my face. It was another reason to appreciate the morning and the opportunity to be out in nature. I saw multiple northbound Appalachian Trail hikers but passed by with only a cursory exchange of pleasantries. I had big goals for today. I had a quick snack at Cooper Lodge and picked up my pace even more. I had eaten most of my food in the first half of this attempt, so my snacks and food breaks were much shorter and less satisfying. The goal to eat more food early stemmed from the desire for a lighter pack at the end of the trail and the knowledge that motivation and determination would be their highest when the end felt within reach. This strategy worked well and my face had adopted a scowl, a look of pure desire and focus. I flew over the terrain, attempting to run as much as possible despite the nagging in my ankle. The long descent was quick and optimism seeped through my psyche. The miles were finally passing in a timely manner, the way I had been expecting the entire trail. I crossed multiple roads and wound around the lower elevations when it began to rain. My pack was waterproof and I wore a rain jacket and rain skirt, so I was comfortable. Most of the other hikers had retreated to shelters in the inclement weather so I had the trail to myself. The day flew by in the rain, my vision was largely aimed down to keep the rain off my glasses, and my feet moved automatically over the trail. Even the climbs felt shorter and easier on this day. The day turned to night and my speed decreased. The added mud and water on the trail made the footing more tedious and the going tougher. With this drop in productivity I knew hiking through the night had become a reality. I needed to get at least half the 108 miles done before even thinking about closing my eyes. The 6 day goal had become more, it was now an obsession. My tired mind was so fixated on one thought that I would not give up on it. In the darkest dark I climbed up Peru Peak and began to notice my vision playing tricks on me. Dark shadows cast from my headlamp were turning into things that weren’t there. I wasn’t worried, only surprised this had begun so early into a sleepless session. I had been in this spot on the Arizona Trail and there was no reason for alarm. I continued over Styles Peak, dropped down and climbed all the way up Bromley Mountain. Here I took a quick break to use the privy, charge my headlamp, and eat a little more food and caffeine. I was tired and beginning to really hallucinate now. I put some music on. The leaves would move and my mind turned them into impossible things. I saw children’s toys hanging from the trees, rocks sitting in mud puddles that weren’t there, dark shapes that turned into animals next to my route. I was moving away from the edge of reality into a fantasy world. The night continued in this fashion until I was brought back by the “real” chirping of birds just before the first light. It had rained all night and I had entered my own world, but the sounds of nature cemented me in the real world for a short time.  The light of day brought new strength to my lethargic body and I knew my goal was within reach. With 24 hours to go, I had about 50 miles to make it to the southern terminus. It would be 50 miles of trying to hold on to what was real and filter out the things that weren’t. Day 6 – 50 miles Things began to crumble in the Lye Brook Wilderness and I began to consider taking a short nap. My vision was bouncing as if I were on a pogo stick hopping down the hill. I couldn’t focus or sharped my mind despite trying to rub cold water on my face, violently shake my head, or give myself an inner pep talk. I was in a world of rolling terrain and unspecified surroundings. The ability to focus had disappeared with the night of sleep I gave up. All the leaves on the ground were now small children’s toys and I was walking through a natural play area. The shapes of tigers, lions, hippos, giraffes appeared in the miniature figurines the leaves had morphed into. I drank more caffeine. At the height of this loss of control I ate the last two ounces of cheese I had been carrying, trying to give my body something else to do other than augment reality. I walked into Stratton Pond shelter to reshuffle some snacks to the top of my pack and was surrounded by other hikers who had been there since the start of the rainstorm. I was incapable of interacting and sat on the steps, pulling out snacks for the coming hours in my own world. They likely acknowledged my presence and talked to me, but I cannot recall if I even responded. I was a shell of myself and the first thing to go was my ability to interact socially. I didn’t have answers to questions like “Where did you stay last night?” and “How far are you going?” My current goals were only in the footstep I would take towards my end goal. There was no capacity to reflect, only the ability to evaluate progress towards my looming goal. I was nearing my limit, but I was also nearing my goal. In that short break at the shelter some new splash of determination soaked my soul and I flew with reckless abandon up Stratton Mountain. My vision no longer bounced and I could reconcile the hallucinations to the real world. The rain had lightened and I felt good in comparison to an hour prior. I felt as though I were walking through the reptile exhibit of the zoo. The day was warmer and the rain on the ground seemed to steam up in humidity, washing over my face. There is no way to know if this is what actually was happening or a fantasy my mind turned the situation into. It didn’t matter. I was ecstatic that my vision had cleared, whether my mind turned the fringes into hallucinations or not. At the top of Stratton the caretaker’s wife said hi and asked where I had come from that day. With no idea how to respond I simply said a couple shelters back. At this point all I really knew was that I had come from Canada and was going to Massachusetts. Nothing more was relevant. On the descent from the mountain my motivation waned and I made the mistake of calculating how many more miles I had left. I had been awake and pressing for a day and a half. The number of miles remaining frustrated me. I still had so much farther to go after such a hard push just to get here. I tried to focus on the moment and appreciate each hour. Mantras became the key to my success. I continually told myself. “This moment is short,” conferring to my mind that this pain and this push will quickly be a thing of the past. I accepted that I still had many mental and physical peaks and valleys before the trail was over. I reminded myself that I only needed to survive the valleys and cling to the peaks. There was still success and enjoyment that came with each peak. I told myself that if I keep pushing I will love my current self and my determination when it is over. I welcomed a new version of myself and pictured each wall (figurative limit) that I was breaking down around my mind. The miles were frustratingly slow and the first thing exhaustion had taken from me was my patience. I tried hard to stay within the current mile as I pressed over Glastonbury Mountain. The sun sunk low and cast sporadic rays through the green tunnel, wreaking havoc on my broken mind. One mud puddle offered a perfect reflection of a strip of blue sky and my mind interpreted it as a hole in the ground. Panic shook me and I avoided the water. In another instance I saw a dark stump on the side of the trail and out of the corner of my eye it became a bear staring at me. Things were getting weird once again. I crossed Woodford Hollow and I was losing it. My phone battery was at 20% and all my external power was gone. Stress poured over me as I climbed Harmon Hill and my movement was slow and methodical. With 12 miles to go I knew I needed a quick break and laid down right on the leaves. I set 7 alarms to be sure I would get up and then closed my eyes for a 1 hour nap. Waking up I felt more functional. The sleep had brought me back to the stage of recognizing what was real and what was a creation of my mind. I was short on time and began to move as quickly as possible through the terrain, sinking up to my knees in the mud, but firing through it with no regard for cleanliness. With 6 miles to go I ate my last handful of peanuts and narrowed my eyes. I had to finish by 5:59am. Nothing would stop me. I ran. I snapped a trekking pole but was unfazed. I stowed the pieces of the broken pole and continued to hobble. My ankle screamed when I set it on an unstable rock, but I could not slow down now. I crossed the last road and had 3 miles left. My pace quickened. It was the home stretch and all I saw was the narrow footpath in front of me that led to success. I worked harder than I ever have in those last few miles and with only tenths left I began to sprint as fast as my body would allow. In the dawning morning light I saw the sign, ran up and touched it just as my watch clicked over to 5:47am. It was over! The clock had stopped. I had achieved my goal with a final time of 5 days 23 hours and 48 minutes. I would like to say that the emotions poured out at that spot, but I was only overcome with relief. The last two days had been so stressful to see an arbitrary time on my wristwatch, that when I finally saw it in reality I was only relieved to have it finally be over. My feet were destroyed after days of soaking in wet shoes and my legs ached. My mind burned with a headache and stomach growled without food. But I was proud. I had done what I thought I could, and just barely. I had set a goal so difficult it took nearly everything, but I had achieved it! With 1% battery left on my phone I took a photo and then made my way down the Appalachian Trail to get picked up. I was over it and these were some of the most frustrating miles. I didn’t need more bonus miles. I needed sleep. It was all over but I was too broken to appreciate it. I had given everything. I had done it! #longtrail #fastestknowntime #hike #Vermont #hiking

-Preparing for the FKT- I spent the winter in Tahoe City running on snow and skiing. While it was a huge winter, the inclement weather caused me to alter my training plan from mileage based to moving time and time on my feet. In the end, I think it was a more helpful way to look at training than the mileage I logged each week. After I quit my job in late March I traveled down to Oracle, AZ and jumped on the Arizona Trail. I climbed over Mt. Lemmon (Southbound), turned around and climbed it again (Northbound), resupplied in Oracle and then climbed it once again (Southbound). From there I ran and hiked my way down to the border, scouting out the terrain I would be traveling over. The reason for this was not only to train, but also to scout out the sections. I hiked the Arizona Trail last year as part of the Great Western Loop from approximately mile 200 to mile 705, so scouting these initial 200 miles nearly gave me a complete experience of the trail before my first steps of the FKT. After days of traveling South and meeting many thru-hikers, I was in the Miller Peak Wilderness. I camped at the edge of the wilderness and was ready to begin my Fastest Known Time attempt. Then the wind started. It blew so hard I struggled to sleep, anxiety weighed heavily on me and doubt began to grow. It was not a tough decision with the flexibility I had given myself and I decided to put off starting the FKT for one more day. I hiked down and traveled into Sierra Vista to regroup, resupply and try to destress. When I was ready, I traveled back to the trail, hiked up the hill and stayed at the first legal camping spot at the edge of the wilderness area. -Day 1 It was 4.1 miles from my campsite to the monument (Mexican Border) and I was moving by 5am. It was all downhill and I covered the first miles quickly. I took a quick break, threw away my trash and assured everything was in the right spot at Montezuma Trailhead. From there I walked to the southern terminus of the trail, snapped a picture, punched my spot tracker and took off, fueled by adrenaline. I moved fast, covering the 6.5 miles and thousands of feet of elevation gain quickly to the turn off for Miller Peak. From here the trail bounced up and down and I took advantage of my health and began to run portions of it. I ate while hiking and stowed my food while running. I left the wilderness area and still had a good pace. Miles flew by like never before. At mile 20 a small hot spot appeared on one foot and I made a quick sock change and the discomfort went away. The day was fast and easy. I made it all the way to the road into Patagonia. 47 miles down. -Day 2 At 4:30 the alarm went off and I was ready to go. The excitement of the FKT easily outweighed the early hour and I began the walk into Patagonia. I arrived before 6am and went straight to the vending machine I had scouted on my way south. In it there were sandwiches and snacks. I bought enough to supplement my food for the next 130 miles and climbed out of the town. It was a series of old roads and a long climb that eventually led to Mt. Wrightson Wilderness area. I was feeling great still and ran down into the canyon. Everything seemed easy. My body was responding well, my legs felt great and my mind was at ease. I arrived at Kentucky Camp and took some time to air out my feet, charge my phone and guzzle down some water. My goal for the day was mile 100 and I was well ahead of schedule. The trail had some small climbs and descents in the evening, but they went by with relative ease and I was able to find a nice sandy wash to cowboy camp in. 100 miles down. -Day 3 Everything was going too smoothly. I was up again and felt great, moving through the flat desert leading up to Saguaro National Park. I crossed under I-10, past the junction to Colossal Cave and took a break at La Selvilla Picnic Area. I aired out my feet quickly and then was back moving north. I had 20 miles done by 11am, but the day would digress quickly. I peacefully walked through the desert, enjoying the unique look of the Saguaro Cacti and then the climb began. From the Quilter Trail and the National Park boundary, the trail gains 5,000′ of elevation over 12 miles. I began the climb at 2pm and it could not have gone worse. The 90-degree heat with little breeze hit me hard. Within the first 5 miles I had drank all my water, had a headache and was struggling. I spent the next mile traveling from shaded spot to shaded spot, resting at each one. Sweat poured off my face and my legs felt empty. I was counting each tenth of a mile, seeing progress at a painfully slow rate. Finally, I found a small pool of water. I ripped off my pack and laid down in the lukewarm pool. It felt so nice to not only be in the water, but be able to lay down. It took every ounce of mental toughness to leave the dirty puddle and continue up the hill. Heat penetrated my being and the headache grew stronger. My pace was laughable, and darkness set in before I finished the climb. But as the sun set and the temperature dropped, my strength returned and I was able to salvage a 45-mile day, making it beyond the northern park boundary. In my first brush with adversity, I had made it out the other side. 145 miles down. -Day 4 I knew this two-day combo would be difficult in climbing through Saguaro National Park and then climbing over Mt Lemmon. I did also know from my scouting that I would be able to follow a creek up the canyon for quite a while throughout the Mt Lemmon climb, and it would be much easier to fight off the heat. The day began early, and my fear of lingering effects from the day prior were unnecessary as I quickly crossed Catalina Highway and began the gradual climb. Today was peaceful in comparison and everything seemed to move at a more comfortable pace. I powered up the hill, and hit Romero pass, where the real climb begins. I was already cutting it close for the General store at Summerhaven, so I picked up the pace and moved quickly up the hill. At the top I began to run the downhills. As time ticked by and my chances of making it to the store before it closed grew even slimmer, I started to run all the terrain. I made it to Marshall Gulch Trailhead and had 11 minutes before the closing and a little over a mile to go. I sprinted up that hill. This was the last day in this pair of shoes and my feet ached running on the pavement. I arrived at 6:01pm, but they still let me in. The strange thing about the decision to run is that I really didn’t need anything. More than anything I just wanted the morale boost and ability to eat something out of the store. I had a resupply and new shoes at High Jinx Ranch 11 miles away, so all I purchased was a can of Sardines, bag of chips and a coke. I used the internet at the store for a few minutes, ate the sardines and socialized with other hikers before beginning the 11-mile descent to the Ranch. It was so windy and dark that I took out headphones and blocked out the piercing elements. It went by fairly quickly, and I camped right at the ranch, ready to resupply and get on the trail quickly the next morning. 196 miles down. -Day 5 I didn’t use an alarm because I didn’t want to be walking through the ranch looking for my resupply too early in the morning as people do live there. But in the end, I was up at 5:30 and saw my resupply box and shoes exactly where the owner had described it. I quickly changed everything out and was ready to go when the caretaker walked up. It was a bit embarrassing at 6am to see him after casually walking into the place, but he was kind and even offered to throw away my trash. It was later than normal (6:20am) so I moved with an added intensity. It would be a flat and fast day. I ran miles at a time and felt better on this day than any of my previous. It was true desert, and I saw sweeping views, rattlesnakes, cacti, and even multiple other hikers. I often pass people at night, seeing only their tents, but on this day, I got to interact with a few people as I passed them while they were hiking. Despite my pack being at its’ heaviest for the entire route, I was able to cover 51 miles in relative ease. 247 miles down. -Day 6 I started the day like I got shot out of a canon. I was running everything. After 5 full days, everything felt too good and I wanted to use it. I was sprinting down the hills and still maintaining a good pace up them. Miles melted by and I was soon paralleling the Gila River. I only slowed down when I had to filter muddy water out of the river before a long climb. Soon after leaving the river though, my energy level plummeted and I was not feeling like I had much left. The quick start to the day definitely contributed to the crash, but I had a plan. I poured caffeine into one of my waters and began to chug it. I climbed into Tonto National Forest, ascending into the mountains, powered by caffeine. I knew I would have to push late because of my resupply the next day so I continued to go, all the way to Highway 60. It was the first time of the trip being tired, but having to push through the urge to close my eyes for hours. 301 miles down. -Day 7 I went to sleep after midnight and was up by 3am. It was 44 miles to Roosevelt Lake, and I had to make it by 7pm or I could not get my resupply box until the morning. There was no wiggle room and I moved fast. The climb up into the Superstition Wilderness went perfectly in the cool weather and it even rained a bit. But after entering the wilderness my foot problems began. The soles of my feet grew uncomfortable and despite trying to tape them, the problems snowballed. Hotspots turned into rashes and then my skin began to split. I left the wilderness hobbling. I had no spare time to survey the damage, but I should have taken the time to mitigate it. I continued to move as fast as my injured feet could go, and eventually passed some hikers I had seen while training on my way south. They all let out a cheer and it added a smile to my face. It was the final push I needed before jogging down the hill to the marina. I made it at 6pm, grabbed my box and walked out onto the patio to look at the damage that was done. My feet were full of cuts and looked like a used tissue. The skin was wrinkled, irritated and slashed in parallel lines as if by a knife. The damage was done, and I bought some more duct tape from the store and walked down the trail towards the Four Peaks and Matazal Wildernesses. It would be one my hardest and most remote sections and I was starting it with injured feet. 350 miles down. -Day 8 Upon waking, my feet were no better and my energy was at a low. My head hurt, I was groggy. My motivation was gone. I did not feel like moving, let alone pushing towards a goal of 50 miles for the day. But, knowing getting up is the hardest part I rose and began hiking. I was not fast. I couldn’t run, and I couldn’t even walk at 3 mph. Slowly as the sun rose my body loosened up and my feet grew numb with pain, yet the miles were still slow and sluggish. I climbed up, but after only 12 miles in 5 hours, I took a break and laid down, taking time to eat and air out my feet. I coated them in hydrocortisone cream and then tried to duct tape them up. But after packing up and continuing to move north, the duct tape proved more uncomfortable than helpful and I quickly took it off. I entered and climbed through the Four Peaks Wilderness. My pace was not healthy, but I relentlessly continued forward. Downing caffeine no longer helped the way it had in days past and I didn’t have much go right in my day until meeting some hikers that mentioned how much my previous adventures had inspired them. It brought a smile to my face on a day where it was tough to do so and powered me to Highway 87. I tried to push into the evening, but my body and mind rebelled. Sleep felt like the right decision and my eyes were closed around 10pm. It was a poor day as far as progress goes, but even for a bad day it didn’t ruin my chances. 393 miles down. -Day 9 My feet were still quite destroyed, but my mental sharpness had returned. Sleep had paid off, although it had not induced the physical healing, I had hoped it would. I moved forward consistently and worked to limit down time and time not spent moving. With my diminished speed, I would need to be ever more diligent and efficient each time I removed my pack. I wound through the Matazals, climbing and descending on the rockiest of trail. The loose rocks (about the size of a fist) were not the ideal terrain to be moving over with already bothered feet but the sweeping views and welcome breeze made up for the terrain. Late in the day I dropped down and crossed the East Verde River. It was a river at which I got to the bank and saw no way of crossing and keeping my feet dry. So, at 8pm I trudged through the water, making the decision my feet would be wet the rest of the evening and for the following morning. As I climbed up Whiterock Mesa the trail became increasingly hard to follow at night. I never lost it, but my pace was diminished because it was difficult to spot the pathway on the empty ground. Usually there is a track, rocks, a rut, or some other tell-tale sign of a trail, but between all the interwoven wildlife and run off trails it was very difficult to follow. When I felt my pace drop to a level that bordered on unproductive in terms of trading sleep for slow miles, I passed out on a nice bed of pine needles. 444 miles down. -Day 10 Today was going to be a strange one. I had a box waiting just off the trail at the brewery outside of Pine, but I had come to the decision that I would super glue the bottom of my feet in order to provide both a second skin and to try to close the large cuts that were providing so much discomfort. I arrived at the brewery just after it opened at 11am, ate some quick food, repacked my resupply and hobbled into town. I shopped quickly for the necessities and was soon sitting outside on a bench popping blisters and super gluing my feet. It must have been quite a sight. Each blister shot puss multiple feet into the air, producing a nasty colored liquid, and then I would contort the extremity to cover it in super glue. When I finally left town in the early afternoon I felt as though I could log some miles. Running was still out of the question, but walking felt better. The trail along the Mogollon Rim was also much nicer than the Matazals. Soft clay and dirt were the surface as opposed to rock. I pushed deep into the night, but could barely salvage a 40-mile day. Strangely I was content with the shorter day because I thought I had drastically improved my feet. 487 miles down. -Day 11 Sleep deprivation was adding up. If the trail was flat for too long or my attention was able to drift for an extended period, my eyes grew heavy. There had been many late nights and early morning. I was now getting up before 4am and not succumbing to sleep until after 11 and sometimes 12. The trail was quite easy, following a litany of roads and pine needle laden trail with only the smallest patches of snow. It was a good situation for logging miles and my feet felt a little better. With the aid of caffeine, I was able to stay awake as I pushed to Mormon Lake, but in the afternoon when I sat down for a short break my eyes closed. I wasn’t sure how long I was out, but I bolted upright as soon as I felt my hat fall off my head and hit my knee. I scrambled up and kept pushing. I could not risk an unplanned nap. I crossed Lake Mary’s Road and wound around the tall forest when a gentle rain began to fall. It would be my only wet night and the only night setting up my tent. 539 miles down. -Day 12 A resupply in the outskirts of Flagstaff was the goal, but staying awake in the morning was especially difficult. It got so difficult I decided to call my dad. Talking on the phone would easily melt away 30 minutes and sharpen my mind for the hour or two proceeding. It was largely flat through the forest and I was able to find a clearing and some sun to quickly dry out my tent after the rain. Then I pushed hard to skunk canyon, turned right and began the pathway along the rim of Walnut Canyon. I had never been on this portion of the trail before and I was quite impressed. The only downside to the great views were the endless mountain bikers I had to share the trail with. On one hand they kept me awake but on the other they always kept me on edge and induced a bit of anxiety that I would be hit by one of them. In the end it all worked out. I made it past the interstate and all the way to Highway 89. Here I had a decision. There was a gas station a few hundred yards south, but there was a Dollar General a mile north. Did I want better resupply food or to save some time? I opted for the gas station and had a food bag full of one of my most depressing collections of nutrition. There was little there to buy, so a staple of my diet would be hot dog buns, mayo and mustard packets, with individual cheese sticks and beef jerky in them. Food would obviously not be the main thing occupying my mind in the next section. I pushed deep into the night and camped at altitude, which proved quite cold. The moon had been continually growing brighter and I now had to plan where I slept, or the near full moon would blind and wake me with its shine. 592 miles down. -Day 13 I was up early and the chill of the morning at altitude had me dawning every layer I owned. Had it been any colder the next step would have been to drape my sleeping bag over my shoulders between my insulated jacket and my rain jacket. I climbed over the shoulder of Mt Humphries and had snow for a good 5 miles as I neared 9,000’ of elevation. It was a sign of what was to come on the north rim and it had me scared. This vision of snow would occupy my mind too often until I arrived at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. After making it through the San Francisco Peaks the trail dropped quite significantly to a flat, arid high plains. This is where the conditions were perfect. The largely flat abandoned roads and soft trail were nice to my feet, the weather was cool and promoted miles, and my resupply food seemed to be doing the job. I was doing great at overcoming exhaustion and the pains that occupied my legs and feet until night set in. My body would not respond. I slowly trudged toward a 50-mile day at a pace that still makes me cringe. Everything in my body was hurting. My left knee had pain, my quads were empty, my calves felt tight. My feet had blisters, cuts, internal pains and were in non-stop agony. Even my back had a few spasms on this trying day. At 9pm I set my pack down and rested my head on it for a quick dirt nap. With no alarm set, I was out for 15 minutes and felt rejuvenated enough to log 4 more miles and hit my target of 50 for the day. With the terrain and weather, I was disappointed I had not been able to get a longer day. I needed to have some breathing room for the snow that awaited me. There was only one day left before whatever was at the north rim became my reality. 642 miles down. -Day 14 It was not a good morning. I hit snooze on my alarm until I didn’t even need a headlamp to move. Mentally I was out of it, and felt like throwing in the towel. My body was wrecked and I just wanted to sleep. This was not fun. It was brutal and I questioned why I had put myself through this. But while all these thoughts went through my head, I pushed forward. Miles ticked by quickly as I neared the Grand Canyon. I was able to run again and it opened up a new world. My psyche improved and I crushed the day. I made it to Tusayan at 6pm and really needed to turn this day into something special. I did my most expensive (by almost double) resupply at the general store, drank a coffee from Starbucks and packed out a Yerba Mate for even more caffeine and began my assault on the Grand Canyon. I was at its’ rim late at night, but I followed the Kaibab Trail and kept going. It was magical. The moon shone bright and I often turned off my headlamp to see the giant canyon bathed in the night light. Moon shadows were everywhere and it didn’t make me want to stop. I continued to push to Phantom Ranch and then even further on the flat trail. Today turned into tomorrow, and I didn’t even take a dirt nap until after 2am. 700 miles down. -Day 15 I was reenergized after my 25-minute dirt nap and kept pushing. It was peaceful to have the whole canyon to myself, and I wanted to preserve the feeling as long as I could. The sensory overload of the Grand Canyon was working wonders for my sleep deprived mind, and I could just continue on. After Cottonwood Camp I decided I better log a few more minutes of sleep before the sun came up or I would pay for it throughout the day of snow travel ahead. I dozed off for another 30 minutes and awoke as the first shimmers of light illuminated the canyon. From there it was an aggressive climb up the North Rim and I was done with the canyon by the time most people were done with breakfast. Then the snow began. It was an eerie feeling traveling through the snow-covered forests. There were no footprints and only occasional breaks in the snow to reassure I was on the right path. This early in the day the snow was still firm and my pace was good, but that wouldn’t continue. With each slip on the crusty white layer my feet would cry in pain and I would wince. With no one around, some of the winces could have been quite loud, but I was nearing the point where it was tough to tell what was in my head and what was said out loud. The snow to the park boundary was quite navigable and there were even portions of exposed trail with snow melt to collect water. But once I left the National Park and climbed even higher onto the Kaibab Plateau the snow became constant. It was no longer solid either, and with every step I would sink a few inches. It was not post holing, but it slowed me down considerable. My feet were wet the entire time and I was frustrated. My pace was slow and sluggish and I was incredibly tired, while also knowing I had to push into the night. The snow changed my plan. Initially I had planned on 50 miles each day, but today that did not seem attainable, so I changed my plan to anything over 40. The thinking behind this was if I would cut the miles remaining to under 50 for tomorrow, then I was confident I could make it to the end. Making this decision eased my fears and lifted a layer of anxiety. In the sleep deprived state, anxiety seemed to be weighing on my body at a much faster and more fear inducing rate than when sleep was not so much an issue. I passed by the East Rim with sweeping views and even found a picnic table cleared of enough snow that I could eat a tortilla wrap for dinner. Then the slog continued into the night and I started going crazy. I couldn’t stop, but I also couldn’t stop the strange things going through my mind. While walking through clearing and on the snow with the moon casting shadows down, my mind turned the trees, shadows and landscapes into things they weren’t. I was hallucinating. A shadow looked like two old people hugging, a tree looked like a witch with a broom, a clump of trees looked like a cabin. Another resembled sasquatch and my mind continued to drift. It was one of the stranger things I have experienced mentally. I knew these things weren’t there, yet my mind was still making them appear. It was like a weird version of Inception. Late in the evening and after 41 brutal miles I laid down to sleep. It was not good sleep. 741 miles down. -Day 16 I kept waking up. I would wake in a fit of panic, expecting to have slept through my alarm. I had 8 different ones set to combat this fear, but my mind was too panicky to quell. It was not rational, but in the state I was in, nothing seemed to be rational. I had only planned a couple hours of sleep anyways, but they were not productive hours and I eventually began my final day. Everything I drank had caffeine added to it. There was little else I could do to stay mentally alert and despite trying to listen to loud music, it would frustrate my mind after a few minutes and I would push on in silence. The snow was patchy in comparison to yesterday, and the route was much easier to follow. The brisk morning chill aided in my alertness and I was able move forward with ease. The frustration of having to fight through 48 miles was eased when the number became 38 and then 28. There were moments of reflection and moments of longing. I was ready to be done. I was over caring about food or cravings or even a bed. I just wanted to sleep uninterrupted for hours on end at the first place possible. My feet were as bad as they had ever been after a day of being wet and trudging through the snow, but after a week of intrusive pain, I could move the dull throbbing to the back of my mind and hobble on. There were periods and waves of adrenaline that caused me to run short sections and power up the hills, but overall it was a day of only consistent forward motion. Breaks were not true breaks, only time to grab food from my pack. I had a mission and much like the last hours of Nolan’s 14, I felt no need to rest. I could rest when I was done but not now. I wanted rest so badly but I did not need rest to accomplish this current goal. The trail eventually hit the gentle downhill and the snow disappeared. I ran out of water and despite knowing exactly where the next source was my mind lost track of the task and I walked right by it, making me need to back track a few minutes. It was a day spent in my own head and as the sun set and darkness engulfed the trail, I felt none of the tiredness of previous night. I continued forward. The final miles frustrated my exhausted body as the gentlest switchbacks ensued with only a couple miles left. But finally, I made it down and heard voices in the campground. It was a weird moment, I hit the monument and not 5 seconds after being done someone yells out with my trail name, “Are you Legend?” I responded and the moment and hours of reflection were over as quick as the trip was. A rollercoaster like none other. I learned and found caverns of my mind I have never explored and will one day return to those spots, ready to get more comfortable in the pain cave I lived in for much of the past 15 Days 13 Hours and 10 minutes. Here is the link to the Arizona Trail Trip Report Video (Here) Here is an overview of the Arizona Trail for those wishing to hike it in the future (Here) Legend at Arizona Trail Terminus #thruhikingthearizonatrail #howtothruhikethearizonatrail #fkt #arizonatrailrecord #backpacking #arizonatrail #settingthefktonthearizonatrail #fastestknownTrail #arizonatrailselfsupportedrecord #howtobackpacktheArizonatrail #arizonatrailfastestknowntime #arizona #jeffgarmire #WhatisanFKT #record

Here is everything to know about my Arizona Trail FKT (Speed record) attempt. First off, here are the numbers: The self supported time to beat is 18 days, 16 hours and 45 minutes by Witt Wisebram last fall. The overall (supported) time to beat is 15 days, 22 hours and 39 minutes. I will be doing it in a self supported manner (described below), with an eye on also breaking the overall (supported) time. I am hiking the trail in a self supported manner which means I will resupply all on my own without stepping into a vehicle, or having arranged support. A supported attempt would mean that either a crew is organized to help out the hiker/runner at road crossings and otherwise. As long as they travel every step of the actual trail, there is no limit to the help that can be involved in a supported attempt. My self supported attempt will be able to be tracked live, via the link below. It should activate early on Friday morning when I begin. Feel free to follow along! https://spotwalla.com/tripViewer.php?id=1d27e5ca3c121b5237&hoursPast=0&showAll=yes I anticipate limiting social media and interaction via the inter webs, but I will try to post a photo on Instagram every day or two with an update on progress and a little about how things are going. Either way it should be an adventure! #thruhikingthearizonatrail #howtothruhikethearizonatrail #fkt #arizonatrailrecord #backpacking #arizonatrail #settingthefktonthearizonatrail #fastestknownTrail #arizonatrailselfsupportedrecord #howtobackpacktheArizonatrail #arizonatrailfastestknowntime #arizona #jeffgarmire #WhatisanFKT #record

Coyotes howls and ran circles around my tent all night. They came so close I could hear their breathing and footprints. I yelled at them to let me sleep and threw some unrepeatable threats their way if they didn’t, but alas, it was not a good night of sleep. I am getting to the end of my training week and figure out how much (if any) rest I want before beginning my speed record attempt. All ears if someone has suggestions. I will put in a couple more days of gallivanting through the Arizona desert hills before the miles become real. Despite 28-35 mile days throughout the last week, I have tried to have nearly 10 hours of sleep every night. I assume when running/hiking 18 hours of day I will grow sleep deprived, so I want to push that off as long as possible. I met countless hikers today, most of which I will Pass when I begin hiking north. #thruhikingthearizonatrail #howtothruhikethearizonatrail #fkt #arizonatrailrecord #backpacking #arizonatrail #settingthefktonthearizonatrail #fastestknownTrail #arizonatrailselfsupportedrecord #howtobackpacktheArizonatrail #arizonatrailfastestknowntime #arizona #jeffgarmire #WhatisanFKT #record

Today was eventful and felt more like touristing than hiking. I first hiked through Saguaro National Park and witnessed the iconic cactus 🌵 growing everywhere. There are about 1.6 million saguaro cacti in the National Park. Then I crossed a dry open expanse and walked up to Colossal Cave and thought to myself colossal is a word we should use more. I didn’t have the extra money for the full tour, but the cave is full of tunnels and formations formed long ago from limestone deposits. Now it is a dry cave. Around the cave were coati or coatimundis, which look like monkeys (seriously google them and shown below) but behave more like raccoons or marmots, always trying to scavenge food. As for the numbers of today, it was another mid 30 miler, with about 4500 in gain. I’m feeling pretty good, but I would like to throw my sleeping bag in a drier down here before my FKT attempt. Unfortunately there isn’t much opportunity. #thruhikingthearizonatrail #howtothruhikethearizonatrail #fkt #arizonatrailrecord #backpacking #arizonatrail #settingthefktonthearizonatrail #fastestknownTrail #arizonatrailselfsupportedrecord #howtobackpacktheArizonatrail #arizonatrailfastestknowntime #arizona #jeffgarmire #WhatisanFKT #record

After doing laps the last three days over Mt Lemmon and exhausting a 30+ mile stretch of trail with some good vert for training, I finally continued heading south. New landscapes and scenery awaited. Rolling hills after sycamore canyon and golden sunshine greeted me. It was another day of over 30 Miles with some considerable climbing, but at this point, I am just trying to hike down to the southern border and get there as I’m feeling in the best shape possible. This will include another couple decent days and then analyzing how things respond, then eventually going for it. This will be a new type of adventure, and I am just going to embrace the new challenges. Oh! I found some helium balloons that had fallen on the trail today and made some excellent videos after sucking down the helium. They are up on YouTube and Instagram! #thruhikingthearizonatrail #howtothruhikethearizonatrail #fkt #arizonatrailrecord #backpacking #arizonatrail #settingthefktonthearizonatrail #fastestknownTrail #arizonatrailselfsupportedrecord #howtobackpacktheArizonatrail #arizonatrailfastestknowntime #arizona #jeffgarmire #WhatisanFKT #record

I am thinking of making my FKT (Fastest Known Time – Speed Record) attempt on April 4 or the 5th. Training today was both physical and mental. I found the terrain yesterday, so conducive to tough miles and elevation gain, I turned around and hiked the same section northbound today. I logged a couple more miles and about 1,000 more feet of gain than yesterday. My body has responded well, but I am having trouble deciding if I should start the trail with new shoes or keep these until mile 200 (of the actual attempt) where my new shoes are waiting. Tomorrow I will hike a bit further north, resupply in Oracle, and then hike all the way south to begin my real adventure at the border. Tomorrow should also be more of a recovery day, in which I will settle for a day in the 25-mile range. #thruhikingthearizonatrail #howtothruhikethearizonatrail #fkt #arizonatrailrecord #backpacking #arizonatrail #settingthefktonthearizonatrail #fastestknownTrail #arizonatrailselfsupportedrecord #howtobackpacktheArizonatrail #arizonatrailfastestknowntime #arizona #jeffgarmire #WhatisanFKT #record

There are three reasons I am spending these days leading up with only record attempt in Arizona. First, I need to get used to the warmer weather and sun exposure. After a winter spend in a mountain town, the peak temperature I’ve seen since December (in LA) is 45 degrees. Second, to learn the portion of the trail I have not traveled before. Minus the most northern 25 miles I have hiked the entire Arizona Trail with the exception of the southernmost 200 Miles. After arriving in Tucson, I figured hiking these miles before I started would be my best option. The third reason to spend these days in Arizona is to prepare my body physically and mentally as well as assure I am happy with my gear choices. I slept in late into the morning but felt good for my first true training day and I began the ascent up Mt. Lemon. Contrary to some of the rumors, these was very little snow and it was easily navigable. I walked by Somerhaven general store and bought some benedryl as it had somehow been neglected in the packing stage and I am allergic to bees. From there I dropped down into Sycamore canyon to close out a 30 miles days with 5500’ in elevation gain. A good start to my training. #thruhikingthearizonatrail #howtothruhikethearizonatrail #fkt #arizonatrailrecord #backpacking #arizonatrail #settingthefktonthearizonatrail #fastestknownTrail #arizonatrailselfsupportedrecord #howtobackpacktheArizonatrail #arizonatrailfastestknowntime #arizona #jeffgarmire #WhatisanFKT #record