I was really excited when my friend created this route in 2023, and immediately wanted to do it. Unfortunately, my plans were thwarted three times by injury, illness, and flooding on the path. With the last of the fall weather soon to disappear, I just decided to go for it this weekend. Luckily, I have a partner, Sam, who is supportive enough (and trained enough) to join me, and friends who answer emails like, “Want to meet me at a random spot on Saturday with water and snacks?” We decided to run together, but separately in the Supported Female and Supported Male categories.
We could hear the flag at the top of Grandad Bluff whipping in the wind as we approached. With a touch of the flagpole, we headed off toward the Gateway Trails and the shelter of the trees. This section was quick and easy, perhaps because of the downhills or because as local trail runners, these are our comfortable, home trails. We had packed enough water and snacks in our vests to last us to the turn around in La Crescent, so we cruised along with no intent of stopping.
We startled a heron on Wood Duck and enjoyed the sun warming our backs as we headed onto the Marsh Trails. The gravel trail turns to pavement in the middle of the marsh, and we tried to run along the grassy edge to protect our feet as much as possible. As we entered Riverside Park, the Rotary Lights crew was busy setting up the ice skating rink, candy canes, and lights for the big light show that starts at Thanksgiving.
There were no boats out when we crossed the blue bridge over the Mississippi River and Pettibone Park was pretty quiet too. It was here we made our first stop at a port-o-let and picked up our friend, Chris, to run the middle section (about 10 miles) with us. Chris was a great addition; as trail runners, we aren’t used to the flat miles, and chatting with Chris as we worked our way through the Shore Acres neighborhood and across Wagon Wheel trail was a great distraction.
The train horn warned us to pick up the pace as we crossed over the tracks and headed up the bike ramp into La Crescent. A few blocks later we met our friends at Veterans Park, where they supplied us with Coke, potato chips, water, a few bites of sandwich, and general smiles and cheers. We kept it brief and took off up Eagle Bluff. All those miles were starting to hit us, though, and between tight hips and hamstrings, leaf-covered trails, and steep inclines, it was really more of a hike than a run up Eagle Bluff. We celebrated at the overlook and looped around and back down to our friends. They had thoughtfully re-parked so as to block the wind, and we stopped a little longer to eat more, refill our bladders and bottles, and restock our snacks for the rest of the run.
Refreshed, we took off back toward Wagon Wheel, only to be held up for several minutes by a very long train. A note to the next person trying this FKT: check the train schedules? We blamed anything else that went awry thereafter on the train, of course.
The return to Pettibone Park was uneventful. Chris finished his pacing duties and waved goodbye as we continued toward the bridge. As we passed once more over the mighty Mississippi River, we calculated that we weren’t going to be able to finish in our initial goal time of five hours, and we also realized that it didn’t matter. It was more important to enjoy what we could of the last nine miles and not put any pressure on ourselves. So we admired the Rotary Lights setup a little longer, took a second in the Friendship Gardens, and settled in for the grind across the marsh.
Our feet thanked us as soon as we touched the spongy dirt on Wood Duck; our glutes were less enthusiastic about the beginning of the climb back up the bluff. Lower Hixon parking lot was full, and we met several groups of smiling, happy people out for a hike as we trotted uphill. I tried to smile in return; I think Sam managed a grimace. Log Loop to Aspen was forever long. I don’t know if it was helpful or maddening that Sam was so familiar with the switchbacks on Aspen that he had them counted and categorized, and narrated their characteristics to me on the way up.
At last we hit Alpine Inn, where I had promised myself I would return afterwards for a Bloody Mary. (I firmly believe that a Bloody Mary is the best recovery drink after a long effort.) Perhaps it was that thought of my post-run beverage that gave me a last bit of energy. There was a little pep in my step up the last part of Compass and 1909. We passed a few more families, waved to our friends waiting in the parking lot, and touched the flagpole. We did it!
As we were hobbling back to the car, one of the families we saw on the last bit of trail asked us, “So, how far did you run?” I told them the distance and that the route was a “Bluff-to-Bluff-to-Bluff.” One said, “That’s awesome! It’s the Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim of the Midwest!” I really hope it gets that popular.