50 Miles on the Ice

50 Miles on the Ice – January 20, 2007

Davy Crockett

Saratoga Spring, UT

As an encore to my 23-mile run across frozen Utah Lake (largest fresh-water lake in Utah) last Monday, I again ventured out onto the ice on Saturday. My training buddy, Brent Rutledge of Lehi, proposed that we run 50 miles on the frozen lake. Who was I to argue against a fun challenge? All week the temperatures stayed below freezing although the afternoon temperatures were starting to creep into the upper 20s. With my success Monday in staying safe and not falling through the ice, I felt pretty confident that we could again have a safe adventure.

Warning! As of January 24, 2007, temperatures will reach above freezing. Thawing will occur causing the surface to become very unsafe. Don’t try it.

I carefully planned and measured a course using mapping software. I came up with a fun quad crossing of the lake extending from the north to the south. It would truly be one of the flattest 50-mile runs in history. We would start at Eagle Park in Saratoga Springs on the northwest end of the lake, and run more than 14 miles across the lake to Spanish Fork Creek. From there we would run out to a tiny island, Bird Island, then run south to Lincoln Point at the foot of West Mountain. Next, we would run to the west shore at Pfeiffer Canyon. At that point we would refill our water and drink some hot soup that I would drop off. That would be near the half-way point. After a quick break, we would run back to Bird Island, run to Utah Lake State Park in Provo, and then finish with a long 11-mile crossing to our starting point. If we managed to keep our track pretty straight, we would end up with about 50 miles. If we zig-zagged, we would end up with bonus miles.

I got up early at 4 a.m. to drop off out aid station items at the half-way point. I couldn’t get my car down to the lake shore, so I hiked two miles out and back in about 4 inches of snow until I reached a fence that I really didn’t want to hop over. I dropped the goods on the other side of the fence, marked a way-point in my GPS, and hoped that the stuff was pretty close to the shore. It was pretty foggy and very dark, so I really couldn’t tell for sure if I was close to the shore, My GPS said I was only 0.1 mile from the lake.

I drove back home and Brent arrived at 6 a.m. to begin our long adventure on the ice. We drove to Eagle Park and were off and running at about 6:20 a.m. Our visibility through the fog (inversion smog) was about 5 miles or so. Some duck hunters were making their way out on the ice before us and they watched our lights wondering what two guys were doing running on ice so early in the morning. Our initial leg went near the shore for 5 miles to Pelican Point, named after pelicans that used to fly there from Great Salt Lake to feast on the fish.

In only a few minutes, Brett discovered that his camelback nozzle was frozen. He stopped to but his backpack under a coat and tuck his hose under some warm clothing. That soon did the trick. I tucked one of my water bottles into my fleece vest. I had started out with hot water mixed with Ensure, but I knew that soon I would be drinking Ensure slush.

I was immediately alarmed at how many fresh cracks there were for us to carefully stride over. There were many more than on Monday. It was only 5 degrees, yet during the night water had seeped up through large cracks that had opened or reopened at some point. We were very cautious and it slowed our pace. Our flashlights would see the cracks and we would hope each time that they would hold our weight. After a little while I suggested that we spread out a little more to keep our weight distributed better. It was a freaky experience in the dark. At one point, I stepped on some fresh ice and my foot dipped down into some ice cold water. Yikes, that was cold! After a mile or so, the foot warmed back up and eventually dried out. I altered our course somewhat further away from shore, hoping that the huge cracks would decrease. They did.

Then, we heard our first loud boom, “Choooommm.” “What was that!!?” Brent asked. I chuckled and explained that we would hear plenty of that. They were noises from the movement of the ice -- new cracks being formed. The booms continued for awhile until we left them back to the north. Brent commented that he could never get used to those eerie, fightening sounds. For some reason the ice at the north end of the lake was the most unstable. I wondered why. Reasons might be: The north end is the lake outlet and perhaps with deeper water. Also, the north end has more hot springs and the water temperature may be warmer.

After over an hour, we finally reached Pelican Point, our 5-mile mark. Our next destination would be about ten miles to the southeast. The dawn was approaching but there were no landmarks for us to see through the haze to set our course by. We had to “fly by instruments” and trust my GPS to keep us on a straight line. We immediately learned what a difficult task this was. We started wandering to the left and right, getting off course quickly. As the hours went by, we became much more skilled in keeping a straight line. At times it would be impossible without the GPS because sometimes there was not even a chunk of ice sticking up for us to set our sights on, just the flat horizon fading into the haze.

Brent, a little off course heading toward the rising sun

Note the large frozen crack

A slight frigid wind blew into our faces and we longed to feel the warmth of the sun. Finally the sun started to rise through the haze. We then noticed that we both would very naturally drift our course to the left, toward the sun until I checked the GPS and corrected our route. This happened over and over again. Our bodies wanted to go toward the warmth of the sun. Brent would sometimes go ahead and it was funny to watch him drift off course without the help of a GPS. He would eventually look back and see me heading in a different direction.

The variation of the surfaces we ran over throughout the day was amazing. We ran over:

Dark slick ice covered with about a half inch of snow
Exposed slick ice with patches of thin snow cover
A snow/frost covering that looked like styro-foam
Dark ice covered with crystals
A long tiring section of snow 2-4 inches deep

The most intriguing surface was the ice crystal surface. I finally concluded why this surface was different. When the snow storm went through a couple weeks ago as the ice was freezing, there were sections of the lake that still weren’t frozen. When these sections finally froze, they were slick ice without snow coverage. Later, with each cold night, frost would collect and these ice crystals would form. That’s my theory.

As we ran in what was about the middle of the lake, we commented to each other how amazing this experience was. Some would find the empty landscape boring. We found it to be exciting and fascinating. It seemed like we had been transported to Antarctica. It was quiet, desolate, empty, and frozen. Yet I knew full well that there were tens of thousands of people within only 10-15 miles. Amazing!

Me, near Spanish Fork Creek

The sun rose above the Wasatch Mountains, but because of the haze it brought us only a little warmth. The temperature would still feel frigid for several more hours. After about 3.5 hours and 15 miles, my GPS took us to our east shore destination, Spanish Fork creek. By roads, it would have taken us 35 miles to travel around the lake by car to this point. We explored the ice rubble collected near the shore and then quickly headed toward our next destination – Bird Island.

Bird Island – a lonely pile of ice during the winter

Bird Island was over three miles away. Soon I was able to pick out a white object toward the horizon in the direction that my GPS was pointing. I concluded that it must be the island, so I put away the GPS and enjoyed following a landmark.

Rubble ice on Bird Island

Bird Island became larger and larger. We pushed the pace and soon arrived. We were amazed at ice piled up. We didn’t stay long and set our course toward West Mountain to the south which we could see through the haze.

Brent, running ahead toward West Mountain

Our run toward West Mountain was the most frigid portion of the run. The breeze kicked up in our face and a chill went right through our bones. Thankfully it only lasted for about a half hour. We crossed over some curious tracks in the snow. We stopped to examine what was clearly a snow angel created by a large bird. We could see the brushes made by the wings. The bird left behind many feathers. Why it did that, we did not know. As we approached the shore we ran by frozen round holes in the ice left behind by ice fisherman.

Ice fisherman dragging his sled

At the park at Lincoln Point, we climbed up onto the shore to check out the park and to sit down for a couple minutes for the first time during our adventure. We didn’t stay long. We knew that we still had 30 miles to travel before the day was done. As we left the shore, we watched a lone ice fisherman drilling in the ice. I’m sure he thought we were a curious sight as he watched us disappear over the icy horizon.

An incredible “fault line” full of rubble

After a couple miles, we entered into what must have been another unstable section of the ice. The surface was a very runnable styro-foam looking surface. At times we would stop dead in our tracks as we both heard and saw small cracks appear in the ice near us. Soon the booming sounds started again. One series of booms traveled along a huge crack that must have been similar to a fault line. Then, I experienced an amazing feeling, an icequake! It only lasted a couple seconds, but I could feel the ice “roll” under my feet, similar to the feeling felt in an earthquake. We could feel that the ice below us was thick and solid, yet the sounds and vibrations really freaked us out. Once a very loud traveling booming sound seemed to travel within only twenty feet of us. We both stopped and said, “Wow, that was close!” We were anxious to get away from there and finally left it those amazing effects of Mother Nature behind us.

Brent running through snow, nothing on the horizon

Next up for us was a very long section of deep snow, 2-4 inches. It was like running in sand. This section quickly started to wear on us and our feet ached from the challenging surface. Finally the shoreline came into view. I was very impressed how well we both stayed on course during this section. We were actually learning how to walk straight lines. We climbed up on the shore, followed my GPS and went right to the cooler that I dropped of in the early morning. We sat down and enjoyed drinking hot soup and water that wasn’t freezing cold.

After a wonderful lunch, feeling much stronger, we again set out along the snow-covered ice to return to Bird Island. We again traveled through the “icequake” section. After passing by Bird Island, the sun finally broke through the fog and dramatically warmed our backs. I had to stop to shed a layer of clothing. The perceived change in temperature was dramatic. Just as I was contemplating shedding another layer, the clouds blew in causing the temperature to again take a dive.

As the eastern shore came into view we crossed over our tracks from the morning, 23 miles ago. During this section we really had a difficult time keeping our line straight. With the shore in view, we discovered that we naturally kept drifting to the right, toward the shore which our minds knew would be our next destination. Over and over again we had to correct our course toward the left.

Finally we arrived at Utah Lake State Park in Provo. We neared the shore near the outlet of Provo River. We could see more moisture on the ice, a clear signal of unstable or thin ice. As we continued cautiously toward the shore, we started to hear cracking all around us. We stopped and didn’t move a muscle. I suggested that we spread out and back away. We did without any further incident and decided we had come close enough to Prove shore. It was time to head for home.

I aimed my GPS to the final waypoint, 11 miles to the northwest. A person walking on shore watched us disappear out on the lake. The ice surface for the next couple miles was very slick. I had lost one of my Yak Traks and needed to be very cautious. Several times we both almost fell. Our route zigged a little as we tried to find stretches of snow to increase our pace.

The sun was setting and peeked through the overcast one last time giving a marvelous display of light. As we ran through the middle of the lake, we couldn’t see the shore ahead and I commented that without the GPS we both would probably travel in huge circles for the entire night. That was an uncomfortable thought. As the dark arrived again, the lights of Saratoga Springs could be seen blazing on the horizon. With a better running surface we both really kicked it into gear. Brent said that we were practically sprinting. I felt amazing – no pain, no tired muscles. We concluded that our travel over the slick ice had made us both use different muscles. We now felt refreshed and rested. Certainly the totally flat surface had been quite a challenge for the 50-mile distance. I longed for hills!

The lights on the shore came closer and closer. We soon were again slowed by more frequent wet cracks that caused us to carefully tip-toe across. The ice booming sounds again greeted us, but I noticed that I was finally getting used to the strange sounds and didn’t pay much attention to them.

As we were within three miles of our destination, I later learned that my friend, Pablo Riboldi spotted my green light far out on the lake. He called my wife to let here know that I was nearing home. As we ran near the shore, the lights of the homes blazed to our left and I could see outlines of figures in the windows watching our lights.

After about 13.5 hours, we again returned to our starting point. We had planned to run in quicker but didn’t anticipate the slower cautious pace though many sections. I checked my GPS odometer which read 50.06 miles. We did it! 50 miles on the ice. What a remarkable experience!

Actual GPS track. Not totally straight.