Sleep Deprived and Ecstatic on the Wind River High Route, an FKT Attempt


On July 31, 2022, I set out to complete the Wind River High Route in Wyoming faster than any woman had done before. The route includes about 30,000 feet of elevation gain (equivalent to climbing Mt Everest over 2.5 times!) in 100 miles, about 70% of which is off-trail. I would need to finish it in less than 2 days, 11 hours, 37 minutes (because that was Kelly Halpin’s record, which earned her an “FKT of the Year” award). I tackled this alone and completely unsupported, meaning that I started out with all of the food that I would need for the duration of the journey (16,000 calories). I determined there would only be time for a couple short naps. It would be the hardest physical challenge I had ever faced. Things got really weird…

Writing this trip report was more challenging than all of my others. I had to swallow an especially high degree of vulnerability to discuss the intimate moments and emotions that I experienced during my trip.

A large specimen of Sky Pilots, with Sourdough Glacier and Iceberg Lake in the background

Wind River High Route Trip Report

Finding the “Why”

“Whoa, mommy, why do you have so many owies on your legs?” Good question Tyler. How much time do you have? He probably wants the simple answer – “I hit a lot of rocks on the Wind River High Route.” He suggested I put band-aids on them, especially the big one.

This damage was done while wearing leg coverings, but I considered my wounds to be quite mellow considering what this route has done to others!

Why do I do these crazy things? It’s a question I’ve asked myself many times. I know I love the challenge and find so much happiness in the journey, but it’s a good idea to really know and understand your “why.” When things get tough, when you find yourself in the “pain cave,” you better have a good grasp of your “why,” otherwise you are likely to shut down and give up. For one, I find it fascinating (and sometimes fun) to test myself and explore my limits. I’m also extremely addicted to the intense flow states that I inevitably stumble into during such adventures. But most importantly, every time I emerge, I am happy. Going for the Fastest Known Time (FKT) on the Wind River High Route (WRHR) certainly did all of that, many times over, in some predictable ways, but other ways I did not expect…

The morning after finishing the WRHR, I was overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for life, family, and friends. Spending time in the wilderness always makes me be thankful for the everyday, frequently overlooked things in life. For example, going on backpacking trips really gives me an appreciation for potable water running freely out of a tap, especially a hot shower. This adventure took that effect to a whole new level. After having attempted to sleep (sometimes successfully, mostly not) on the ground without any sort of pad, I was beyond grateful for a comfortable bed. I was excited to sit and enjoy breakfast, rather than figuring out how to eat while moving. But I also was immensely grateful for all of the important people in my life, and love filled my heart. The gratitude was infinitely more salient than I had ever felt before, which made me very emotional at times. I found myself crying with joy. I also felt peaceful and calm, as if I had just finished the most intense meditation session of my life. It felt like time was paused, or no longer existed. I pondered the things that really matter in life, the things that deserve my attention, but oftentimes get dismissed or ignored. So much time in life is spent on things that ultimately do not matter. But in the moment, there are so many distractions, so it’s not always clear what should be prioritized. I hope that in the future I will be able to step aside and and return to the state given to me through the Wind River High Route.

My family. Photo credit Whitby B. Photography

It was in that moment that my “why” (or at least one of them, maybe the most important…) became so clear. I do these crazy things to become a better person, mom, and wife.

So, do I really have to do multi-day, solo, sleep deprivation sufferfests in the mountains? Why can’t I just run marathons or something? I find that being in the mountains takes me to a very special place unlike anywhere else. I experience more flow states, epiphanies, and joy, which all keep me coming back for more. It also seems that I’m good at it. If I were doing a marathon events, I’d be in the middle of the pack and in a lot of pain (my body really does not like running on pavement for long distances). In the mountains, I feel a sense of place, and my body heals itself, physically and emotionally. I don’t understand why more people aren’t out there with me!

In the middle of a massive talus field, I found a large boulder with countless plant fossils (or at least, I didn’t have the time to count them!) I couldn’t help but pause to enjoy them, albeit briefly.

Sleep Deprivation

There was a lot of sleep deprivation on the WRHR, so it was a constant theme – the ever-present antagonist to my story. The sleep deprivation that I experienced on the Wind River High Route, while incredibly unhealthy for my body, seemed to take me to a state of enlightenment that others use peyote, ayahuasca, and similar psychedelic drugs, maybe even extreme fasting and holotropic breathwork to achieve. Of course, there were also a lot of other side effects to the sleep deprivation, which make for some very interesting (and intimate…) stories.

You hear a lot of endurance athletes talk about hallucinations. I’ve certainly had my share, but skipping sleep for two nights took it to a whole new level! It started with the usual visual hallucinations, which increased over time in frequency and intensity. Most of the time, it was simply real life things that were converted or misinterpreted in my head. Rocks, trees and parts of trees became animals and other objects, including a trailhead information board many miles from any trailhead (wishful thinking?).  A new one for me was tracers in my eyes, like streaks of light. And on the third day, I started having audio hallucinations. I kept hearing a radio playing in the distance, just loud enough to know it was music, but not clear enough to make out the words, which was really annoying.

Sometimes the side effects were really helpful, such as when my body parts became my friends. Not only did this provide an interesting distraction, but at times it created a positive mental shift that helped me push through some really hard moments. Some of the new friends were my feet. The route was really tough on feet – there was copious amounts of snow travel on the first day, wet creek crossings throughout, and rain the majority of the third (final) day. I used all of the tape in my first aid kit and wasted a lot of time trying to deal with big blisters on both heels and another on the forefoot of one foot, which was completely fruitless in constantly wet conditions. By the middle of the third day, I was feeling really bad for my friends, Foot and Foot. The rain had momentarily stopped and the sun was coming out, and I was hopeful that it would not rain again (I was quite wrong). I decided to give my friends a gift – fresh, clean, dry socks. And I told them I would do my best to keep them from getting wet again. And as I neared the car, my horribly swollen friends started getting blisters on multiple toes from lack of room in the shoe (simply loosening the laces was not good enough). Foot and Foot were not happy, But they were valiant and strong. I also told them how impressed and grateful I was while on the last long stretch of trail back to the car. This talk improved my mood! But unfortunately, they needed to destroy my shoes… Apparently when feet are not happy, they exude a smell that will ruin a pair of shoes. Or perhaps it wasn’t all their fault – it could have been the mildew from three days of moisture. Anyway, those shoes are no longer with us. I forgive Feet and Feet.

My shoes, before (left) and after (right)

In addition to my feet, my stomach also became a new adventure partner and friend. There were times that I drank or ate food, but it didn’t feel like I was the one selecting or eating the food, there was a friend next to me (my stomach) selecting and eating the food and telling me whether or not they liked it or not. I found myself talking (in my mind – I wasn’t THAT crazy!!) to this friend as if it was a real person traveling next to me and they were thirsty, having upset stomach issues, or enjoying the food, not me.

This kind of all started on the first night, when eating got really screwed up. Talus and difficult terrain required the use of all four limbs, so it was not possible to eat unless I stopped. As my stomach grumbled, I kept waiting for the terrain to change, but it never did, and then it was too late… Damage was done. It took a lot of time and effort recovering from that (that’s when my friend Stomach showed up, and we started working together). The damage is apparent by my intake – only 210 cal/hour or 30 grams carb/hour, on average, whereas I usually consume 250-275 calories/hour. I finished the effort with plenty of food remaining! But somehow, energy seemed to be okay (although admittedly it is difficult to tell such things when you’re sleep deprived!)

The sleep deprivation also made me very emotional. I finally allowed myself to listen to music starting on the last afternoon, and it played until I finished. I had not used music (a reliable tool for combating exhaustion from high effort) before that point because of concerns of battery life (I ending up having just barely enough juice for all of my devices to last the whole time). When “Song for Zula” started playing during the WRHR, I started crying because of memories of my son’s birth. I delivered my son at home in the company of my husband, mother, birth doula, and midwife. “Song for Zula” was the most memorable song from my birthing playlist, which is why it is also on my FKT playlist. I was overcome with emotion from those memories, but also the feelings they evoked – intense love and appreciation for my son and my mother. I felt a sense of their presence in that moment on the WRHR. As if somehow she knew, at that moment my mother sent me a message on my InReach – “sending love.” Writing these words from the comfort of my couch weeks later makes the experience sound so banal relative to how it felt at the time. It is so difficult to put such things into words.

From time to time, I feel as if I am resonating with the universe. Like things are falling into place and my life is being executed exactly as it should be. Getting my mom’s message while listening to “Song for Zula” triggered that sensation. I also had the sense of resonance immediately before starting the FKT attempt, which is a great mindset to have, if you can manage it, before starting such an endeavor. I had been full of many doubts in the days and week prior to starting the WRHR. Before leaving home for Wyoming, my whole family spent weeks fighting a bad cold. I had done very little activity and was not entirely convinced that I was recovered from my illness when I left. But, I rushed off in order to try to start the FKT before a storm came in. Too much time in a vehicle completely wrecked my body, making a lingering “niggle” (runner speak for an injury that is still in the stages of denial) in my left knee turn into something quite more serious (“maybe this is an injury now!?”). The time in the car also gave me some significant back pain. Thankfully, I did not make it in time to start before the storm, and found myself with a number of days to relax and prepare in Wyoming. The days of downtime allowed my confidence to return because I spent a lot of time connecting to my body, listening to the messages it was giving me, and focused on taking care of it. Not only did my mind and body recover just in the nick of time, but I was able to enter “vacation mode.”! This process gave me the sense of “resonating with the universe,” that things were meant to be…

In some cases, the sleep deprivation actually was a performance enhancer. Yes, I said that. Not only did it seem to make it easier to sink into a flow state, but there were multiple times when I came up with new techniques that transformed my mindset and improved my pace. On Photo Pass, I discovered a new breathing technique that turned the climb into a meditative, restorative moment. During the last push to the car, which is always really hard for me, I suddenly realized why that was always the case – because I was focusing on the past and future, rather than the current moment. When I instead focused on the scenery, the experience, and how lucky I was to be there, I was catapulted out of the pain cave and started enjoying myself! More on all of this, below…

The Route

Many people read trip reports because they are planning on doing the same route, and want beta. Or perhaps they’ve done the route before and like hearing about other people’s experiences. This is also where I get to share lots of pictures!

The Winds are notorious for weather. Unlike in the Sierra (in California, where I live), a sunny day without any precipitation or lightning is a special event. I essentially had to sit around on rainy days, waiting for three consecutive days that had relatively decent weather. If all went well, I would be on Wind River Peak around noon on the last day, when T-storms were due.

I set out from the Glacier Trail trailhead at 5:30am under clear skies. On the way to Down’s Mountain (13,335 ft), I ran into two groups – more than I expected! But they would be the last for a long, long time. The climb to Down’s is tedious, not because of the terrain, but because it is an broad plateau that seems to go on and on forever, like driving through Nevada on 80.

The broad plateau that leads to Downs (off in the distance)
Grasshopper and Dinwoody Glacier

Once you get a bit past Downs, especially when you reach the glaciated terrain beyond, the scenery is spectacular! The views started helping to trigger multiple flow states. In a field of talus, the lichen grew more dense and primarily electric lime green (one of my favorite colors), which triggered a flow state. It is so odd what makes you go off sometimes!

For some reason, this lichen triggered a flow state in the glacier zone after Downs Mountain

Having never seen the glaciers that I would be crossing, I was a little nervous. I have been on many glaciers, which can all have vastly different character. Some of them are more dangerous for solo travelers (namely, the ones that have large crevasses that might be concealed by snow), but the glaciers that are crossed by the WRHR were the safer ones (at least, where the route traveled). They were essentially flat ice with a clearly expressed crack and system. Occasionally I had to take a big step over a crevasse, but it was more fun than scary.

Water flowing on Grasshopper Glacier

Travelling north to south felt like the right way to go in this section. I usually had fast, fun snow conditions on the descent and rarely had to deal with obnoxious snow on ascents. In fact, when I think about it, I cannot think of one spot on the high route where conditions would have been more optimum (namely, faster) if I were travelling in the south-to-north direction.

The glacier zone lasts for a long time. I was in it for essentially the entire rest of the day. When sunset hit, I was ahead of schedule and I was in good spirits. That would not last long…

Sunset on the fast and fun snow descent from Blaurock Pass

Soon after darkness fell, I found myself navigating the sketchiest, scariest river crossing (on North Fork Bull Lake Creek) I have ever done. Rivers were swollen because of the warm weather, time of day, and relative abundance of seasonal snow and glaciers in the area. I knew I was in the spot that many have used the cross (because of gpx tracks), but now water rushed over the rocks that might have otherwise provided a dry crossing. I prodded the creek with trekking poles in other areas and could not find the bottom… So, I went for the rocks option. I had to use all four limbs to hold onto the rocks, like climbing horizontally, to prevent being washed down the creek. It was nerve-wracking, but I made it across… This was an example of the downsides to doing the route earlier in the season (for the Winds, this year).

The night was not good to me. After being ahead of schedule all day, I lost my lead and became behind schedule, mostly because the terrain was significantly more difficult than I expected, but also because navigation by headlamp can be quite difficult and disorienting. I found myself in extensive talus fields for miles and miles, almost all night. Some of the talus was quite large (car and van-sized!). This talus was infested with spiders (large and small), which built webs spanning between the large blocks, where I wanted to travel. I have never met this talus spider in California! At first, the spiders gave me pause and I tried to avoid them, which wasted time. Eventually, I developed a technique of destroying one leg of the web as I approached, which sent the spider running, and then I blasted through the rest of the web. Some talus was quite steep and loose. At one point, I narrowly avoided significant injury when a massive block of talus let loose just above me. Luckily, it slid slightly to my left and I instinctively tried to push it to my left while simultaneously dodging it by moving quickly to the right. Only my thumb felt a little sprained after the incident, so I was very lucky. This was another nerve-wracking experience that night. Back at home, upon reviewing satellite imagery and my planned route, I discovered that a lot of the talus could have been avoided if I were only being a little more diligent about closely following the route I had created before starting…

The difficult terrain and the hours of lost time really took a toll on my mental outlook. It also didn’t help that I moved through the night without rest and my stomach was quite upset, so I wasn’t eating enough. And, I was getting blisters. Sunrise gave me a bit of a boost, as did hitting the Hay Pass use trail, but not as much as I would have expected. All morning long, I climbed up Europe Peak, fantasizing about the nap I had scheduled that afternoon. Thankfully, the climb was exactly what I needed – only mildly steep, and on relatively easy terrain. It seemed like it took forever (perhaps partially because I made at least 5 small route finding errors on the way…), but eventually I made it to one of the spots I had designated as a promising nap spot using satellite imagery. I needed shade (because I was napping in the middle of the day, without a tent) and soft ground (because I didn’t have a sleeping pad). It was perfect. Caltopo for the win, once again!

The “class 3” “knife edge” ridge on Europe Peak. It turned out to be innocuous, but it made me a little nervous given how sleep deprivation can really impact your balance!

On the way to my nap spot, I decided to put all my eggs in one basket and give myself a single 2-hour nap window, rather than the two 1-hour nap windows I had originally planned. I thought that a full REM cycle would serve me well and allow me to finish the route without another stop. This turned out to be a bad decision, as I wasn’t able to fall asleep. My leg muscles started twitching while listening to my sleep meditations and instead of stopping to massage them muscles (with the cork ball I had brought, which always solved the problem in the past), I hoped I was tired enough to fall asleep despite the twitching. I am not sure how long I lied there before giving up on a nap, but I am sure it was at least 45 minutes. I was frustrated, but the time was not a complete waste. The break reset my stomach and actually improved my energy levels and mental outlook quite a bit.

Oddly enough, in some ways my brain started working better as the sleep deprivation increased. After my planned nap-turned-meditation break, I felt myself smiling and enjoying myself. My next climb was Photo Pass, and I approached it with an easy spirit. I knew that doing the High Route without much sleep would be highly impactful on hormone levels. I also knew that if you focused on making exercise meditative, it can actually have a positive impact on your mental preparedness and ability to cope with stress. When I run, I focus on breathing a majority of the time. I typically run with a pattern of four steps for every in breath and three for every out breath (things change on steep climbs and descents). While hiking, depending on the effort level, I do a similar thing – breath relative to steps, trying to increase the number of steps per breath as much as possible. On the climb up Photo Pass, I started focusing on counting breaths and allowed myself to take a short meditative break every 20 breaths or so. In that break, I would stop to enjoy the view, attempt to relax as much as possible, and lengthen each breath as long as possible, for about three breath cycles. I found this to be amazingly effective at lowering my stress level, but it also created a welcome distraction from pain, and made the hike up the pass much more enjoyable. I’m surprised I did not take a picture, but at least the views are etched in my brain because of my positive mental state at the time.

A really cool spot to be, Bewmark Lake, in afternoon sun.

Sunset is always bittersweet… The lovely lighting made the terrain spectacular (I was in the Bewmark Lake area) but it also means that darkness is imminent. I was dreading the night a bit because of how badly the first night went. I started the night optimistic and hopeful because my projected finish time was right around Kelly Halpin’s FKT. Another bad night would screw that up. Thankfully, the terrain that I went through this time (Lee Lake to East Park Lakes area) was not nearly as tedious! This helped me manage my eating better, so I did not have stomach issues. But I did make a number of route-finding errors in the dark and suffered additional delays because of firm snow that had to be detoured around. Towards the end of the night, I had lost an hour to delays and fatigue. I started swaying like a drunk person and having a hard time keeping my eyes open. I felt like I was in danger of falling asleep while walking! I decided that there was no way I could make up the time in that state – I desperately needed rest. So I gave up on the FKT and tried to take a nap. This time, it worked, despite the fact that it was dark and cold and I didn’t have a sleeping bag, despite the fact that the ground was not soft and I didn’t have a sleeping pad. I am not sure how long I slept (maybe 45 minutes at the most, likely more like 30). I set an alarm (who knows if I set it correctly…), and woke before the alarm went off. It was shortly after dawn when I woke and I felt amazing. I had no idea what things looked like around me when I took my nap, so it was a pleasant surprise to see that I was in a lovely valley surrounded by lovely granite peaks.

I woke from my nap surrounded by lovely scenery. Unfortunately, the skies were gray and rain was imminent…

One of the things that weighed on me was the weather forecast. My husband Matt had been sending me weather updates on my InReach. When I started the WRHR, rain and T-storms were due in the afternoon on my last day. Things had changed for the worse – heavy rain and/or T-storms were now expected to start in the morning. By mid-morning, I had to transition to rain gear (at Washakie Creek), which always makes things slower! Food and gear are suddenly that much harder to access, for example. My husband suggested I bail at Lonesome Lake, which was right after New York Pass (the next big climb). There, I could catch the Big Sandy Trail to Bruce’s Bridge trailhead, where my car was waiting. Between the rain, T-storm risk, and the fact I was certain I could not get the FKT at this point, I decided to bail.

New York Pass in the clouds, the last climb I completed on the High Route.

I am sure sleep deprivation must have slowed me down, but it was strangely not as obvious or impactful as I expected… There were many moments on this third and final day where I felt oddly normal and fresh. While climbing over New York Pass, my uphill climbing pace felt like it might at the end of a long run. When I crested that pass (my last), I was feeling great. Plus, I was now officially in the Cirque of the Towers…

One benefit to being many hours behind schedule was that it was daylight when I was in the Cirque of the Towers (if I were one my projected schedule, it would have been dark in this lovely area!). This area is the spot that I wanted to visit the most in the Wind River Range. Although I did not have picturesque blue skies that day, I still enjoyed the peaks and lovely alpine scenery. Plus, there was a brief break in rain while I was there!

The view of Jackass Pass from the Cirque of the Towers
Pingora Peak above Lonesome Lake

Unfortunately, the bail from Lonesome Lake was not quick or easy. I had 21 miles ahead of me and 1,600 feet of climbing. It was a worthy feat in and of itself (most people would consider that alone a long run/hike). I started feeling myself getting rather depressed that I would not be at the car for a long time.

This part of my adventures always seems to be the worst for me. I feel like I am almost there and I essentially check out, focus on being done and how much I want to get back to the car, in my bed, to sleep. All of those earlier fantasies about getting to the car with plenty of daylight remaining were crushed. This is when my sleep-deprived brain shocked me by coming up with an amazing and very useful technique. The voice in my head told me that I was focusing too much on the future, and that I needed to focus on the present. I was in an amazing place that I had worked many years to get to, and I needed to enjoy it. It also told me that if I loved sleeping so much, I should have stayed home, in bed. These thoughts made me smile and ejected me out of the pain cave. There have been countless adventures where I suffered for hours through the last push, and I never had such epiphanies before! Apparently I just had to be a little more sleep deprived…

Things got really, really hard again as darkness set in. I stopped being able to run and had to rely heavily on my poles going down big steps. My feet had swollen to the point that I was getting hot spots on every toe. My leg muscles were so sore and tired that I could barely squat to pee. It seemed like I was on the verge of falling apart , but somehow my joints and muscles all held up, just barely, throughout the ordeal. While nearing the car, I talked to my friend Legs about how spectacular this was, how amazed and impressed I was. He did let me know that he was almost ready to give up, and that a serious issue was on the horizon with our friends named Knees, so that’s when I got out my poles and stopped running the steeper downhill sections, to help them. It worked! I finished without any significant injuries. and the car came just in time. I had been moving for a little over 62 hours without much rest. Food and sleep were sweet.

People always ask what’s next after something like this… The morning after finishing, the thing I wanted most was to be home, cuddling with my husband and son. I fantasied about doing nothing but happy, mellow activities with them. When my husband asked me if I would need to return next year to try getting the FKT again, I said “No.” I felt like getting the FKT was not the only objective on this adventure. In hindsight, I dare say it was the least important. The state of mind that I had the morning after getting off the High Route (discussed above) was priceless. But as time passed, all of the route finding errors, delays, and bad weather that I experienced on my trip started nagging me. I told my husband that I might need to return, and somehow that turned into plans to head back to Wyoming a little less than a month later. In fact, I might be on the High Route as you read these words…


  • Salomon XA 35 pack
  • escape lite bivy
  • polycro ground cover (no other sleeping gear or tent)
  • BeFree water filter (not needed)
  • Ursack
  • Micro puff jacket
  • Patagonia houdini
  • Winter running/XC tights
  • Hooded long sleeve layer
  • minimalist toiletries and first aid (hand warmers, a few types of tape, lighter, pencil, cash, small multi-purpose knife)
  • beanie, buff, scree gloves, warm gloves, extra socks
  • Zebralight headlamp
  • extra 18650 batteries
  • powerbank that uses 18650 batteries
  • spare headlamp
  • InReach mini
  • tiny Palm phone


Total weight was 138 ounces.

  • I loved my potato chips, which were sprinkled with a generous amount of coconut sugar. It seemed like my friend and partner Stomach was happy eating them at all times.
  • Ditto with Simple Mills Sweet Thins, a recently discovered staple (basically a delicious graham cracker that satisfies all of my allergens).
  • Nuun hydration is currently my favorite. Sometimes I mix it with some Maurten for extra calories.
  • I also loved pancake sandwiches (almond butter and maple syrup sandwiched between two homemade pancakes), but did not bring many because they have a low caloric density and they don’t keep well!
  • I also discovered that Spring Energy’s Passionfruit Date Drink Mix (plus coconut sugar – it’s a little too savory otherwise) was an amazing fuel at night. I only had one package (because it’s use was still in the experimental phases for me), which I used it on the second night. Many more packages will certainly be coming with me on future adventures that involve night travel!
Grasshopper Glacier


First and foremost, to my husband Matt. I can’t do these things without his full support – not only because I need someone to take care of my 4-year old son, but if he weren’t OK with me being gone, I would not have the mental state I need to succeed.

To my son Tyler, who has taught me how to love more than I thought possible, and is always pushing me to be a better person. Sometimes he’s even my training buddy!

To my mom, who is always with me in spirit during these crazy adventures. I’ve only recently been able to convince her that I don’t need her (or my stepfather) to stay awake through the night with me!

Sean O’Rourke, who was my graveyard shift cheerleader (via the InReach) this time, because he happened to be in Europe! He has more faith in my abilities than I do, and is always inspiring me to consider some really cool mountain objectives.

My coach Raeleigh Harris, and bodywork team (Spencer and Kaila at Elemental Back and Body and Kevin Kuhns and Scott Williams at Synergy). I would not be physically capable of such things without them!

5 thoughts on “Sleep Deprived and Ecstatic on the Wind River High Route, an FKT Attempt

  1. Stacie Riddle says:

    I can’t believe you don’t have bear spray on the gear list! This isn’t the Sierras! You’re in grizzly country! Glad you were able to enjoy the beauty safely.

    1. relsdon says:

      Yeah, that’s one that a lot of people might feel strongly about! I talked to folks about it in advance and decided it was not likely to be an issue, partly because you are way up high (above 11,000ft most of the time), without many food sources that would draw bears to the area you are in (except insects?). There is a risk and reward analysis that has to happen for every individual! But I can guarantee you won’t see bear spray on the packing list for any of the FKTers… I didn’t see many signs of wildlife either time that I was there, let along actually seeing wildlife, other than elk (?) scat and use trails when below treeline. I never felt uncomfortable or regretted not having bear spray or similar.

      1. Stacie Riddle says:

        I run out there pretty much every weekend as weather allows and there are definitely bears up there. The Sinks Canyon grizzly is named Waffles. Also… Bear spray works on pretty much everything, including people if necessary. You were lucky. Good job on your run! Very inspiring! 🙂

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