#I find it interesting that she could like Lolo considering that Lolo puts others before herself but

[fly-sky-high-bug-games]

"Good" Mom Alyssum AU (remastered by an anon)

…Welp. I’ve decided to remaster my “Good” Mom Alyssum AU submission.

  Don’t really have anything to say other than…enjoy!

===== ===== ===== ===== =====

The basic gist of this au is that when Mugo doesn’t respond to her letter, Alyssum brings the egg she made with her back to Highgrove instead of leaving it in Hallownest, believing it to be her chance to “get it right.” And by get it right, I mean NOT throwing a bunch of razor sharp petals at its face

This is all the backstory you’re getting for Alyssum being good lol

ANYWAYS

Onto random details!

Yonna and Sylva are still a thing in this au, don’t worry lol

Sylva and Yonna meet the same way they do in the Noble AU, only in this one they meet in their teens

Sylva and Yonna talk frequently after the party they met each other at, and Sylva eventually learns about Yonna’s home situation through little bits and pieces of conversation. Safe to say she doesn’t like what’s implied, and tells her mother about it. Not even a day later, Alyssum comes home with Yonna in hand saying she’s…taken care of it

Alyssum didn’t kill Yonna’s parents by the way. She did, however, gift one of the more…cruel nobles a new pair of servants, if you get me :)

Sylva, in her younger years, is babysat by members of the White Magnolia. She practically considers them family

Damascus is basically Sylva’s tough love aunt in this au. Alyssum doesn’t allow her to give her daughter nail training, but does allow her to interact with her

Yonna is still trained by Damascus in this au. Their relationship is roughly the same as well

Yonna ALSO still has her wings due to Alyssum’s early intervention. As in, before she cut her wings off

Ignyad is basically Sylva’s eccentric uncle. He gives her all sorts of gizmos and gadgets as gifts, and even teaches her some of his skills

Sylva’s birthday is a big deal for the White Magnolia. The whole group comes together and goes all out with the celebration. Gifts galore, decorations everywhere, games, you name it, they’ve got it. It’s a whole grand time

Alyssum has learned from her mistakes with Mugo, at least when it comes to lashing out. Whenever Sylva has a differing opinion from her own, she doesn’t scold her or tell her she’s wrong, and instead tries to understand why she has the opinion she has

While Alyssum and sylva’s relationship is loving, it is also toxic. Allow me to explain

 Alyssum has normalized violence and torture so much in Sylva’s life at such a young age that it’s just a normal part of every day life for her, to the point where Alyssum would tell her about certain methods she used.

Alyssum gave Sylva lessons on torture at the age of 9. On live subjects. Do with this what you will

As she grows older, Sylva’s torture methods become more creative…and cruel. She even begins to feel a sort of twisted enjoyment in torture during her teen years. Alyssum doesn’t help as she just encourages her to do what makes her happy

Sylva is equal parts cruel and kind, in the sense that she’s kind to her family, and cruel to those who would harm it

Sylva, during her younger years and even during her adult years, likes to refer to her torture sessions as “playtime”

You would think Yonna would be better but…no. Cuz in this au, her family’s treatment of her is far, far worse. It resulted in her feeling angry at the world, and apathetic to everyone in it, save for Sylva and Alyssum, as well as some members of the White Magnolia

Yonna absolutely loathes her parents in this au. She would have killed them sooner were they not all buddy buddy with some of the most influential people in the queen’s court. Their current status definitely puts a smile on her face

Yonna is much more brutal in this au when it comes to killing people in this au. Just a little tid bit.

Sylva is very obedient to her mother. If an order didn’t come from her mother’s mouth, she’s not doing it 

Sylva will do anything her mother says. Her mom says run? She runs. Her mom says swim? She dives right in. Her mom says light a fire? She shows up with OIL. The only exception to this is Yonna

As you might have guessed, Sylva and Yonna are terrible people in this au. Sylva is cruel, sadistic and manipulative, and Yonna is angry, apathetic and uncaring. And yet, despite that, they somehow bring out the best in each other, with Sylva’s kindness, creativity and patience and Yonna’s determination, loyalty and sense of justice

Oh yeah, forgot to mention Trail, Pim and Trav are here too

You Know that AU you briefly mentioned three years ago where Zeeke finds and trains all three? I’m just gonna make a link to that post since it’s literally just that in this au: https://fly-sky-high-bug-games.tumblr.com/post/616924763896610816/wip-im-too-dead-to-work-more-on-today-u-decided

Alyssum has met the three vessels in this au during meetings with Zeeke. Despite what Zeeke says, though, she can see that they are no objects. Even if she’s a monster, she’s glad the trio has each other to turn to, and are happy

ALyssum eventually scheduled meetings so Yonna and Sylva could meet them. They got along well, so she continued to do so

Alyssum has also met Lolo. She thinks she’s marvelous :)

Sylva and Yonna have met Trail Pim and Trav as well. The five are like siblings, really, despite two of them being monsters.

All five of them agree on one thing: Zeeke sucks. A lot

Trail is the most cautious of Yonna and Sylva, as well as their mother, but they’re nice enough, and they haven’t hurt their siblings at all, so they trust them. They get along well with Sylva

Yonna and Trav are sparring buddies, and have a mutual respect for one another

Pim is just happy to have new friends lol

===== ===== ===== ===== =====

Aaaaaand that’s my remaster of my “Good” Mom Alyssum AU submission! Hope you enjoyed it, and goodbye!

[themysteryofwriting]

for your bthb, how about logan as "the collector"?

@badthingshappenbingo

The Collector (Sanders sides fic)

Word Count: 3003

TW: Kidnapping, Taxidermy on a person, blunt force trauma, character death, implied use of a date rape drug, major character death

Everyone collected things.  Some people collect stuffed animals, other people collect pins, and even others collect stamps.  So why was Logan so different just because he collected people.

He had collected quite a few people throughout the years.  There was Patton, who had been there the longest.  He was a sweet guy.  Always cheerful, even now, trying to keep the others upbeat and happy.  Patton had been here since Logan’s senior year of college.  They had met at a small cafe.  Patton trusted way too easily.  It wasn’t hard to get that ball of sunshine to come with him.

The twins came about a year after Patton.  He saw them during a show he went to and knew he just had to have them.  The twins being Roman and Remus of course.  Named after the Roman legend and just exquisite in every way.  They took a bit more planning to get then Patton.  Which was no surprise considering Patton had literally walked with him until Logan had decided they were close enough for him to drug him. But nevertheless, the twins were added to the Collection.  It was such a shame he couldn’t talk to them anymore, but they had made their choice.  If they had listened, then Logan wouldn’t have to have gone to such extreme measures.

A little bit after that, and before the twins made their massive mistake came Dee.  He was a shy boy, who didn’t trust many people. He also had a burn on the right side of his face. He had actually met him before the twins, but it took nearly a year for Dee to trust him enough for him to get him.  He had only been with them a few weeks before the incident with the twins.  But it was clear after that that neither Dee nor Patton would be trying anything.

And his most recent edition, at least until today, going only a few months back. He had met him on the way to work and got the same feeling that he had gotten for the twins.  He just had to have Virgil.  Virgil took a little bit longer to get but he was with them now.

And today, Logan had found a new target.  He would have probably passed right by her if he hadn’t noticed the missing posters she was putting up.  They were missing posters for Virgil. He had seen them around here and there and had tried taking them down without arousing any suspicion.  He didn’t realize who had been putting them up though. Before doing anything, he had to find out more about her.  He picked up one of the flyers she had and walked over to her.  “I think you dropped this.”

“Oh thank you,” she said, smiling take the flyer.  “Sorry, I’m probably dropping them everywhere.”

“No, it’s fine,” Logan said with a smile.  “Do you mind if I ask who that is?”

The girl shook her head.  “He’s my older brother, Virgil.  He went missing a few months back.  Everyone else seems to think he’s run away, but I know my brother better than that.  We’re really close, he wouldn’t have left without telling me.”

Interesting. Virgil hadn’t said anything about a sister.  And she would be both a good addition to his Collection and a good way to keep Virgil in line.  “...You know what I think he looks familiar.”

“Really,” Virgil’s sister asked hopefully.  “Do you know where you could have seen him?  Was it recently?”

“....You’re really worried about him, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, he’s my older brother, we’ve always protected each other….,” Virgil’s sister winced as she realized something, “I’m sorry, I realized I forgot to ask for your time.”

Logan smiled softly at her.  “Logan Berry,” he said introducing himself, using a fake last name just in case she decided to do some research.

“It’s nice to meet you, Logan,” she said, smiling up at him, giving off the same energy as Patton, “My name’s Rachel.”

“Why don’t we go to the cafe so we can talk this out.”

“Well I need to finish putting up these posters first,” Rachel said, “Someone keeps tearing these down, I’m free tomorrow afternoon though.  Maybe around 2ish?”

Logan nodded.  “Then we can talk then.”

Rachel nodded.  “See you then,” she said before heading off.

“Rachel Bosque,” Logan muttered, knowing her last name because of his research on Virgil.  He grinned a bit.  She would be an excellent addition to his Collection.  He abandoned his original plan of what he was going to do and head home.

“I’m home~,” Logan called out as he walked inside the house.  If you could even call it a house with how gigantic it was.

Before going to work, he went to check on the rest of his Collection.  Dee and Patton both glanced up and clearly knew what the look on his face was.

Virgil, like he had been the past couple months, was sulking in the corner, glaring at Logan.

“You’re back early Lolo,” Patton said with a smile that wasn’t entirely real.

Dee just sat next to Patton, already scared for the newcomer.  He knew by now that Logan wouldn’t hurt him if he didn’t mess up, but he was still quiet.

Logan nodded, smiling a bit.  “I think I found a good addition to the Collection.”

Virgil’s eyes widened in disbelief, where Patton and Dee nodded, having recognized the look on Logan’s face.

“Who is it,” Patton asked.

“You never told me you had a sister Virgil.”

That made Virgil growl.  “Leave her the fuck alone. She has nothing to do with this!”

“Ah don’t be like that Virgil, you know I’m not going to hurt her.  Besides, don’t you want to see your sister again?”

“I don’t want you to have anything to do with her.”

Logan tsked.  “Now Virgil, I don’t want to have to punish you again.”

Virgil flinched slightly before going quiet, he was still glaring at Logan though.

Logan smiled and hummed before going to do research on Rachel.  He hummed a bit as he did so, wondering how he hadn’t come across her before.  If he hadn’t already known that they were related, he might assume they were dating with the number of her photos Virgil was in.  It seemed like she worked in a theatre, working on props and stuff like that if the theatre’s page was any accurate.  The more he read, the more he was certain she would be a perfect fit for his Collection.  If his interaction with her earlier was any indication, she would be easy to grab.  He could probably slip something into her drink when she went to the bathroom and simple as that he would have her.

Noticing the time, Logan got food for himself and his Collection before planning everything for tomorrow.  He would have her before dinner time tomorrow, he just knew it.  After he finished getting everything together he headed to bed so he would be refreshed for their meeting tomorrow.

Upon waking up, Logan did his normal routine for himself and his Collection before double and triple-checking that he had everything he would need.  After being sure, he headed out to the cafe that they had planned to meet. He didn’t have to wait long, as Rachel showed up soon after he did.  

“Hey Logan, you weren’t waiting long were you?”

“Not at all, should I order us drinks?”

“Sounds great,” Rachel beamed putting her stuff down.  “I’ll go to the bathroom while you’re doing that.  Get me a hot chocolate, I’m not really one for caffeine.”

Logan nodded, ordering the drinks as she headed to the bathroom, slipping something into Rachel’s while no one else was looking before heading back to their table and putting their drinks down.

Rachel soon came out.  “So do you know where you might have seen him?”

“Well I’m going to have to think about,” Logan said as he watched Rachel take a sip of her cocoa and started a mental timer.  “I think it was about a month ago.”

“You saw him a month ago,” Rachel asked, a little too excited, “That’s so much sooner than anyone else has seen him!”

Logan smiled a bit.  “Well let me see if I can remember where.”

Logan kept listing places, with Rachel scribbling them down until he noticed Rachel struggling to keep focus.  

“Hey you don’t look so good, maybe you should head home.

Rachel nodded, starting to stand up before she stumbled again.  “....I don’t think I’ll make it home,” she muttered, her words slurring.

“Well then I can take you home,” Logan hummed, “What’s your address?”

Rachel muttered something incoherent as Logan started ‘taking her home’.  Of course, that wasn’t necessarily her home.  Before too much longer she fell unconscious and Logan picked her up, a little surprised with how light she was, as he started walking home.

It didn’t take too long for them to get back and quickly injected her with the tracker he injected all of them with and quickly set that so he’d be alerted if she tried to leave or anything like that.  As soon as that was set up he brought her to the others.

“What did you do to her,” Virgil practically shouted upon seeing Rachel.

“Oh calm down Virgil, it was only something to keep her unconscious a bit.  She’ll wake up soon.”  Logan put her down on one of the beds and as soon as Logan stepped away, Virgil ran up to her to make sure she was okay.

“I’ll come back to check on you later,” Logan said with a smile as he left.  Virgil just growled at Logan, trying to protect his sister.  Logan just smiled, needing to get everything else ready for when she woke up. Well, technically most of it would be coming tomorrow but he still needed to get it ready.  He wanted his Collection to be happy after all.  He kept an eye on the time for when he knew Rachel would be waking up.  

Once the time approached, he got up and headed back over.  Sure enough, Rachel was starting to stir.  Virgil started glaring at Logan as he showed up, to which Logan only responded with a smile.

“...Virge,” Rachel asked quietly, starting to sit up.  It was almost like if she was afraid if she spoke louder he’d be gone.

And just like that, Virgil turned away from Logan to pay attention to his sister.  “I’m right here Ray, I’m so sorry.”

Rachel practically tackle hugged Virgil and sniffled a bit.  “You’re okay, you’re really okay.”

“Depends what you mean by okay,” Virgil muttered, glaring a bit at Logan again.

Rachel noticed and finally got a good look at their surroundings.  He watched as her eyes glanced around the room, which he made sure had things for all of them to do, before her eyes landed on him and she realized what happened.  “...Logan you….drugged me?”

“I’m sorry, but I needed to grab you quickly, and besides, now you’re reunited with Virgil,” Logan said.

Logan could practically see the moment she realized.  “You….you were the one who took him.”

“He was just a perfect addition to my collection, just like you.”

Virgil clung tighter to his sister as Logan said that.

“Now I’m sure the others can explain everything to you, but the most important thing.  As long as you listen to me, you won’t get hurt.”  Upon saying that, Logan walked away, hearing Patton starting to explain everything to Rachel.  

And with that Logan went back to his normal schedule….at least for the next 3 weeks.  Once Rachel had been there for three weeks, just when Logan was about to go to bed, he got an alert.  

He glanced over to see who it was.  It looked like it was Virgil and Rachel.  Logan sighed and got up to check on the situation.  Fortunately, they weren’t anywhere close to the door so Logan headed to a good place to meet up with them, hoping the situation was like he thought it was.

Soon enough, they showed up, Virgil all but pulling his sister along.  Rachel glanced around looking scared and actually freezing upon seeing Logan standing there.  

Virgil growled upon seeing Logan.  “I’m not going to let you keep us here.”

“Did Patton and Dee never tell you about the twins?”

“The twins,” Rachel asked quietly.

“They are part of Collection too, but they tried to escape, and...let’s just say they’re not with everyone else.”

Virgil realized the implication and pulled Rachel behind him, protecting her.

“Now you have two options.  You two can either go back to the others and have a small punishment in the morning, or you can fight me and lose, and find out firsthand what exactly happened to the twins.”

“Virge I-,” Rachel said, clearly terrified.

“Well I choose option 3, I knock you out and get my sister and me out of here,” Virgil’s voice softened before speaking to Rachel.  “Don’t worry Ray, I got this.”

Logan just smirked, prepared to fight.

Rachel nodded slightly and stepped back, not wanting to get caught up in the fight.

“Let’s do this,” Virgil growled, immediately lunging at Logan.

Logan sighed and literally just stepped to the side and avoided him.  “You know you’re going to have to try harder than that,” he said with a scoff.

Virgil just growled again and changed into a fighting stance before going into attack.

Logan easily fought back.  He was almost a little bored with how easy this was.  “I’ll give you one last chance to go back to the others, Virgil.”

“Fuck no,” Virgil hissed, still trying, and failing, to knock Logan out.  Not that knocking him out would have stopped him anyways with the chips in their arms.  

“So be it,” Logan sighed grabbing an encyclopedia from the desk and while Virgil was distracted, he swung with all his might, making sure to hit him in the temples.

Logan smiled a bit as Virgil crumpled to the ground and he checked for a pulse.  Had to make sure he was dead first after all. First, he held his hand up to Virgil’s nose and mouth.  No breathing.  Good.  Logan then checked for a pulse and smirked.  Just one last check.  He grabbed a penlight from his desk and shined it in Virgil’s eyes.  No reaction from either pupil.  Perfect he was dead in every way that mattered.  

Upon hearing a sob from the doorway to the room, Logan remembered Virgil wasn’t the only one there besides him.  He got up and Rachel flinched and stumbled back.  “P-please I-I'll go b-back.  I-i don’t w-want to d-die.”

Logan only smiled, leaning down to Rachel’s height and caressing her cheek. “Oh I know, you were just following your brother’s terrible decisions, weren’t you?”

Rachel nodded, possibly from fear, but to Logan that didn’t matter.

“Let’s take you back Rachel,” Logan said with a smile, trying to hide Virgil’s body from her.  It didn’t matter that she had tried to leave as well., she needed time to process before seeing that.

Rachel nodded softly, letting Logan lead her back.  Logan smiled a bit as she was brought back to the others.

“Rachel,” Patton asked, shooting up in worry, “Oh thank goodness you’re okay!  Wait...where’s Virgil?”

That one question and Rachel broke down in a sob.

“Patton, you can make the next couple of meals,” Logan said, “I’m going to up late tonight with a project.”

Both Patton and Dee paled slightly upon hearing that.  “Alright Lolo,” Patton said, moving to comfort Rachel.

And with that Logan set off to get to work.  He needed to at least get the basic stuff down today before the body started rotting. He picked up Virgil’s body and brought it over to the same place he had worked on the twins’ bodies and quickly got to work.  Once he had finished the basic work, gotten rid of everything he didn’t need, and preserved the skin so it wouldn’t dry out, Logan headed to the bed for the night.

It took about a month to finally finish, with breaks to get the stuff he needed to get done and to check on the rest of his collection.  Once done, he moved it to the same place as the twins.

He figured Rachel would want to see what happened so he came to get her.

“Lolo please,” Patton said, knowing what Logan had planned, after all, he had shown the two of them after he finished with the twins, “No one deserves to see that.”

“Just consider this….a punishment for trying to escape.”

Patton nodded and turned to Rachel, who was hiding a bit behind Patton.  It seemed like she was a little scared of him now.  Not that he could blame her.

“Logan’s not going to hurt you, he’s just going to show you something.  And we’ll be right here when you get back,” Patton told Rachel softly.

Rachel nodded, mutely getting up and following Logan.  

Logan smiled a bit as he led her to the room.  “I just thought you’d like to see what became of Virgil.”

Rachel glanced up at him in confusion as they arrived at the room and Logan gestured inside.  He let Rachel walk inside first and waited until he heard her drop to the ground before following her in.

Rachel had dropped to her knees and was just staring up at the taxidermy of Virgil Logan had worked so hard on.  

“You don’t have to worry about any of this as long as you don’t try to escape again,” Logan said, “And listen to what I say.”

Rachel nodded mutely.

Logan smiled and brought him back to the others.

Most people collected objects, but Logan collected people.  So what if that made him different.  It’s not like he was doing anything wrong as long as he kept them happy.

[olivereliott]

The Loop Routes That Don’t Show Up On The Map

Last Friday afternoon, I locked my bike to a sign next to the trail and tried to convince myself it wasn’t that hot—it was 82 degrees in Missoula, with a forecasted high of 91. A hundred feet behind me, most sane people with the afternoon off were spending it floating down the river in inner tubes, drinking cold beverages, their butts in the cool water, occasionally paddling a little with their hands but for the most part as relaxed as they’d be sitting in a La-Z-Boy. I could hear a handful of whoops and yells as I clipped my running vest and clicked through the menu on my watch.

The trail above me was in the shade, at least, but that was about all the encouragement I could give myself. I had never tried to run all the way to the top of Mt. Sentinel, 1800 feet of climbing in 2.9 miles. I was tired after a long work week, had run yesterday, and could think of at least 10 other reasons to not do it. But Hilary had run the whole thing a couple days earlier and she didn’t die or vomit at the top, so maybe I could, too. It was going to go one of two ways, so I might as well get it over with. I clicked the start button on my watch and started shuffling, reminding myself to take it as slowly as possible so I didn’t blow up.

I only saw three other people the whole way, and thankfully, they all stepped off to the side of the trail to let me pass, maybe thanks to the early warning of my wheezing as I chugged up the trail. I would like to think when I pass hikers on the trail, I look fit and graceful, but I’m sure when I’m out of earshot, they’re probably saying things to each other like “That guy looked like he was about to DIE,” “Trail running looks like it’s really awful,” and “Do you think we should call for a rescue?”

I constantly had to remind myself to keep looking at the ten feet of trail in front of me, not 100 feet ahead. There are few truly flat sections of the Smokejumper Trail, many steep spots, some less-steep sections, and overall, plenty of opportunities for someone of my speed to consider taking up golf instead of trail running. My quads burned with every uphill step, my heart rate stayed around 160 the entire time, and I talked myself out of this idea and back into it approximately 100 times.

I made it to the saddle without walking, leaving about a half mile and 300 feet of climbing to the summit, so I tried to take a big gulp of air in and keep a respectable stride going as I moved up the trail.

—

I knew almost nothing about mountains when I moved to Missoula from my home state of Iowa in 2002 to go to grad school for journalism. I just knew I wanted to learn how to write, in a way that could lead to a job, or at least making a living. Part way through my two years at the university, I figured out that I also liked standing on top of mountains. By the fall of my second year of school, I had become a little obsessed, picking through hiking guidebooks to find the hikes that led to summits. I managed to get up a few peaks, some with my friend Tim, including Idaho’s Borah Peak, Lolo Peak near Missoula, and Mt. Sentinel via the Smokejumper Trail—which, in 2004, was a pretty big hike for me, even if the mountain was literally the backyard of the campus of the University of Montana, its southern slopes dropping down a couple hundred feet from the journalism building where I attended classes.

In my second year of grad school, I had to do a thesis project, and I mentioned it to Tim one day. He joked, “What’s it on, peak bagging?” I laughed and said that might be a good idea. My best idea to that point had been something like “newspapers and the internet.” I talked to the department chair and switched my thesis project to three magazine feature-style articles on peak bagging. I found three stories that I hoped might someday be published in magazines: a group of folks called the Highpointers Club, who tried to summit as many of the state high points as possible, from Denali to Florida’s 320-foot Britton Hill; the Colorado Fourteeners Initiative, who worked to protect and preserve Colorado’s 14,000-foot peaks; and the County Highpointers, a group whose common interest was finding and summiting the high points of counties of the United States (of which there are 3,143). Summits made sense to me: a clear goal, a distinct turnaround point, you either made it to the top or you didn’t. When I looked through guidebooks, I skipped the loop hikes and looked for the ones that ended on peaks.

If you count the three members of my thesis committee and myself, I believe a total of five people have read my master’s thesis from 2004—one other grad student read it sometime around 2009, I think. I never got the articles published anywhere, but at that point, I was realizing I didn’t want to someday write for Rolling Stone anymore—I wanted to write for Outside and Backpacker.

My adventure writing career got a slow start: I got day jobs at small newspapers and tried to pitch and write magazine stories on the side. I got rejected by all the outdoor magazines you’ve heard of, but started to write for smaller ones, and eventually, seven years after getting my first rejection letters, I finally wrote a couple stories for some of the bigger national magazines.

An editor from a publishing company emailed me one day in 2014, asking if I’d like to write a brief how-to book about peak bagging. I’d get a small advance payment, and if it sold well, maybe make a few bucks over the next couple years. I thought hell, why not. Since Tim had suggested the idea of a peak bagging thesis 11 years earlier, I had gotten up a few more mountains, and enjoyed all of them.

I wrote the book, got the check, and it was published in 2015. By the end of the year, I received my first earnings statement from the publisher and it was pretty evident that the book had not made the New York Times Bestseller List. Not that I expected it to. I shrugged and figured I had at least paid off a little of my student loan from the University of Montana with some of the book money, and that was pretty OK. Since then, I’d started trail running a lot more, getting into ultramarathon distances, and in trying to plan long training runs, I ended up doing lots of loops—big ones that took all day, and small ones I’d repeat as necessary to hit a mileage goal. I had different motivations, and they didn’t always take me over the top of peaks anymore.

—

Above the saddle on Sentinel last week, I kept my legs moving, hating myself and my idea of “winding down after a long week at the office.” A slight haze hung over the valley, blown in from wildfires somewhere. Another reason you might think twice about running uphill at about your VO2 max for the better part of an hour.

With maybe 40 vertical feet to go, my legs were screaming and I was in more physical distress than I’d been in years, thinking, really, what’s the point of running to the summit? This much discomfort, for what? It’s not like someone was waiting for me at the top with a $25 gift card to Taco John’s. If I stopped and walked, there would be no difference, besides it being about 90 seconds later when I stood on the summit.

But you can’t quit 40 feet from the top. I kept my feet moving, considering the very real possibility of vomiting on the summit for a few seconds, before the ground beneath my feet flattened out and I was on top. I stopped, took a quick phone photo, turned around and decided to let myself walk down the next few hundred feet of trail, in lieu of rolling up into the fetal position and having a good cry. My shirt was soaked in sweat all the way down to the hem, my shorts were about half-soaked, and I thought, you know, is 52 ounces of water enough for the rest of this run? At the beginning of the day, I’d decided I wanted to do more than an out-and-back; I planned a route down the back side of the mountain, and around the north side, back to my bike, a big loop. I figured it would be somewhere between eight and 12 more miles, and I had about 40 ounces of water left (it’s hard to drink when you’re wheezing and running uphill).

Reader, it was not enough water, not even fucking close to enough water. I conserved it while getting blasted by the sun in the now-90-degree heat, then ran out about two miles from my bike. When I finally got to my bike, I would have paid $50 for a single ice cube to be dropped in my dusty mouth.

Instead, I got on and began to pedal, considering my options. The most direct route would take me by a grocery store, only about 100 feet off my ride home. I hit every goddamn son of a bitching red light on the way there and stood straddling my bike, watching the walk/don’t walk signal tick down the seconds as I baked in the sun. How am I still sweating?

The grocery store I picked was way busier than I had envisioned it would be when I was fantasizing about cold drinks for the past hour. I found a sports drink and walked to what I thought would be a fast-moving line, my face sweat sticking to the mask I’d put on before coming into the store. I held the bottle by the cap, hoping to avoid having my warm hand heat up the icy drink even a few degrees before I could drink it. I hoped no one in line could smell me.

The guy at the register was wearing a University of Montana hooded sweatshirt, with the hood up, a visual that blew my mind as I stood in the freezer aisle, the hottest and thirstiest I’d felt in at least a year. The line was not moving. I glanced around. A shelf with a small selection of books sat next to the Hot Pockets, almost all titles I’d never heard of. The sign above it read “Montana Grown.” Ah, local authors? No, local huckleberry jam and candy. And some books, not necessarily written by local authors. At the far right of the shelf, through my dried-out contact lenses, I saw an image that looked very familiar to something in my memory, my friend Nick hiking up a trail as we made our way up South Arapaho Peak in Colorado in 2009 or 2010. Oh wait, that is Nick. I took that photo. That’s the cover of that book I wrote. About peak bagging. Next to the Hot Pockets.

I paid for my sports drink, then drained the entire thing standing outside in the heat, next to the bike rack. I thought the idea of “peak bagging,” about how much time I’ve spent picking out summit routes to attempt, and how as I get older, maybe it’s not always the summits that are so interesting, but the ways things loop back on themselves.

Thanks for reading. These posts are able to continue thanks to the handful of wonderful people who back Semi-Rad on Patreon for as little as $1 a month. If you’d like to join them, click here for more info—you’ll also get access to the Patreon-only posts I write, as well as discounts to my shop and other free stuff.

—Brendan

The post The Loop Routes That Don’t Show Up On The Map appeared first on semi-rad.com.

[thejustinmarshall]

The Loop Routes That Don’t Show Up On The Map

Last Friday afternoon, I locked my bike to a sign next to the trail and tried to convince myself it wasn’t that hot—it was 82 degrees in Missoula, with a forecasted high of 91. A hundred feet behind me, most sane people with the afternoon off were spending it floating down the river in inner tubes, drinking cold beverages, their butts in the cool water, occasionally paddling a little with their hands but for the most part as relaxed as they’d be sitting in a La-Z-Boy. I could hear a handful of whoops and yells as I clipped my running vest and clicked through the menu on my watch.

The trail above me was in the shade, at least, but that was about all the encouragement I could give myself. I had never tried to run all the way to the top of Mt. Sentinel, 1800 feet of climbing in 2.9 miles. I was tired after a long work week, had run yesterday, and could think of at least 10 other reasons to not do it. But Hilary had run the whole thing a couple days earlier and she didn’t die or vomit at the top, so maybe I could, too. It was going to go one of two ways, so I might as well get it over with. I clicked the start button on my watch and started shuffling, reminding myself to take it as slowly as possible so I didn’t blow up.

I only saw three other people the whole way, and thankfully, they all stepped off to the side of the trail to let me pass, maybe thanks to the early warning of my wheezing as I chugged up the trail. I would like to think when I pass hikers on the trail, I look fit and graceful, but I’m sure when I’m out of earshot, they’re probably saying things to each other like “That guy looked like he was about to DIE,” “Trail running looks like it’s really awful,” and “Do you think we should call for a rescue?”

I constantly had to remind myself to keep looking at the ten feet of trail in front of me, not 100 feet ahead. There are few truly flat sections of the Smokejumper Trail, many steep spots, some less-steep sections, and overall, plenty of opportunities for someone of my speed to consider taking up golf instead of trail running. My quads burned with every uphill step, my heart rate stayed around 160 the entire time, and I talked myself out of this idea and back into it approximately 100 times.

I made it to the saddle without walking, leaving about a half mile and 300 feet of climbing to the summit, so I tried to take a big gulp of air in and keep a respectable stride going as I moved up the trail.

—

I knew almost nothing about mountains when I moved to Missoula from my home state of Iowa in 2002 to go to grad school for journalism. I just knew I wanted to learn how to write, in a way that could lead to a job, or at least making a living. Part way through my two years at the university, I figured out that I also liked standing on top of mountains. By the fall of my second year of school, I had become a little obsessed, picking through hiking guidebooks to find the hikes that led to summits. I managed to get up a few peaks, some with my friend Tim, including Idaho’s Borah Peak, Lolo Peak near Missoula, and Mt. Sentinel via the Smokejumper Trail—which, in 2004, was a pretty big hike for me, even if the mountain was literally the backyard of the campus of the University of Montana, its southern slopes dropping down a couple hundred feet from the journalism building where I attended classes.

In my second year of grad school, I had to do a thesis project, and I mentioned it to Tim one day. He joked, “What’s it on, peak bagging?” I laughed and said that might be a good idea. My best idea to that point had been something like “newspapers and the internet.” I talked to the department chair and switched my thesis project to three magazine feature-style articles on peak bagging. I found three stories that I hoped might someday be published in magazines: a group of folks called the Highpointers Club, who tried to summit as many of the state high points as possible, from Denali to Florida’s 320-foot Britton Hill; the Colorado Fourteeners Initiative, who worked to protect and preserve Colorado’s 14,000-foot peaks; and the County Highpointers, a group whose common interest was finding and summiting the high points of counties of the United States (of which there are 3,143). Summits made sense to me: a clear goal, a distinct turnaround point, you either made it to the top or you didn’t. When I looked through guidebooks, I skipped the loop hikes and looked for the ones that ended on peaks.

If you count the three members of my thesis committee and myself, I believe a total of five people have read my master’s thesis from 2004—one other grad student read it sometime around 2009, I think. I never got the articles published anywhere, but at that point, I was realizing I didn’t want to someday write for Rolling Stone anymore—I wanted to write for Outside and Backpacker.

My adventure writing career got a slow start: I got day jobs at small newspapers and tried to pitch and write magazine stories on the side. I got rejected by all the outdoor magazines you’ve heard of, but started to write for smaller ones, and eventually, seven years after getting my first rejection letters, I finally wrote a couple stories for some of the bigger national magazines.

An editor from a publishing company emailed me one day in 2014, asking if I’d like to write a brief how-to book about peak bagging. I’d get a small advance payment, and if it sold well, maybe make a few bucks over the next couple years. I thought hell, why not. Since Tim had suggested the idea of a peak bagging thesis 11 years earlier, I had gotten up a few more mountains, and enjoyed all of them.

I wrote the book, got the check, and it was published in 2015. By the end of the year, I received my first earnings statement from the publisher and it was pretty evident that the book had not made the New York Times Bestseller List. Not that I expected it to. I shrugged and figured I had at least paid off a little of my student loan from the University of Montana with some of the book money, and that was pretty OK. Since then, I’d started trail running a lot more, getting into ultramarathon distances, and in trying to plan long training runs, I ended up doing lots of loops—big ones that took all day, and small ones I’d repeat as necessary to hit a mileage goal. I had different motivations, and they didn’t always take me over the top of peaks anymore.

—

Above the saddle on Sentinel last week, I kept my legs moving, hating myself and my idea of “winding down after a long week at the office.” A slight haze hung over the valley, blown in from wildfires somewhere. Another reason you might think twice about running uphill at about your VO2 max for the better part of an hour.

With maybe 40 vertical feet to go, my legs were screaming and I was in more physical distress than I’d been in years, thinking, really, what’s the point of running to the summit? This much discomfort, for what? It’s not like someone was waiting for me at the top with a $25 gift card to Taco John’s. If I stopped and walked, there would be no difference, besides it being about 90 seconds later when I stood on the summit.

But you can’t quit 40 feet from the top. I kept my feet moving, considering the very real possibility of vomiting on the summit for a few seconds, before the ground beneath my feet flattened out and I was on top. I stopped, took a quick phone photo, turned around and decided to let myself walk down the next few hundred feet of trail, in lieu of rolling up into the fetal position and having a good cry. My shirt was soaked in sweat all the way down to the hem, my shorts were about half-soaked, and I thought, you know, is 52 ounces of water enough for the rest of this run? At the beginning of the day, I’d decided I wanted to do more than an out-and-back; I planned a route down the back side of the mountain, and around the north side, back to my bike, a big loop. I figured it would be somewhere between eight and 12 more miles, and I had about 40 ounces of water left (it’s hard to drink when you’re wheezing and running uphill).

Reader, it was not enough water, not even fucking close to enough water. I conserved it while getting blasted by the sun in the now-90-degree heat, then ran out about two miles from my bike. When I finally got to my bike, I would have paid $50 for a single ice cube to be dropped in my dusty mouth.

Instead, I got on and began to pedal, considering my options. The most direct route would take me by a grocery store, only about 100 feet off my ride home. I hit every goddamn son of a bitching red light on the way there and stood straddling my bike, watching the walk/don’t walk signal tick down the seconds as I baked in the sun. How am I still sweating?

The grocery store I picked was way busier than I had envisioned it would be when I was fantasizing about cold drinks for the past hour. I found a sports drink and walked to what I thought would be a fast-moving line, my face sweat sticking to the mask I’d put on before coming into the store. I held the bottle by the cap, hoping to avoid having my warm hand heat up the icy drink even a few degrees before I could drink it. I hoped no one in line could smell me.

The guy at the register was wearing a University of Montana hooded sweatshirt, with the hood up, a visual that blew my mind as I stood in the freezer aisle, the hottest and thirstiest I’d felt in at least a year. The line was not moving. I glanced around. A shelf with a small selection of books sat next to the Hot Pockets, almost all titles I’d never heard of. The sign above it read “Montana Grown.” Ah, local authors? No, local huckleberry jam and candy. And some books, not necessarily written by local authors. At the far right of the shelf, through my dried-out contact lenses, I saw an image that looked very familiar to something in my memory, my friend Nick hiking up a trail as we made our way up South Arapaho Peak in Colorado in 2009 or 2010. Oh wait, that is Nick. I took that photo. That’s the cover of that book I wrote. About peak bagging. Next to the Hot Pockets.

I paid for my sports drink, then drained the entire thing standing outside in the heat, next to the bike rack. I thought the idea of “peak bagging,” about how much time I’ve spent picking out summit routes to attempt, and how as I get older, maybe it’s not always the summits that are so interesting, but the ways things loop back on themselves.

Thanks for reading. These posts are able to continue thanks to the handful of wonderful people who back Semi-Rad on Patreon for as little as $1 a month. If you’d like to join them, click here for more info—you’ll also get access to the Patreon-only posts I write, as well as discounts to my shop and other free stuff.

—Brendan

The post The Loop Routes That Don’t Show Up On The Map appeared first on semi-rad.com.

from Explore https://semi-rad.com/2020/08/the-loop-routes-that-dont-show-up-on-the-map/ via http://www.rssmix.com/