We have been adding more trail running accessories to our shop that enhance the trail running experience. Ultimately, we are searching for products that make life easier and running more fun.Here is why we added the Hydrapak SkyFlask Speed 350 and 500 ML.
I have always preferred to run with as minimal gear as possible and for those middle distance runs that don't need a lot of water but need something I have always struggled with wanting to bring a handheld. I hated the feeling that I was lugging around a bottle and they felt bigger than they needed to be.
The Hydrapak Speed is so minimal I forget its in my hand as soon as I start running. The adjustable strap stays snug so you can forget about gripping it and keep your fingers loose.
I have had too many hydration systems that have leaky lids and halfway through the run its looking like more water has made into my shorts than my body. The lid locks tight and the 350ML has the additional feature of a speed fill cap which flips open and snaps closed for a quick refill.
With any flask it has the bonus of compressing down so you don't have to hold towards the end of a run if you have a pocket.
TO THE POINT PROS:
This minimal bottle keeps it simple while offering you hydration on the run.
Comfortable in hand and fits snug.
Tightly sealed lid with no leaks dripping down your shorts. We love the 350ml speed fill cap.
GIVIN’ IT TO YOU STRAIGHT CONS:
The adjustment band material isn't our absolute favorite. A softer band in the future would be a plus.
DO YOU NEED THIS?
There are a lot of handhelds out there and we chose to have the Hydrapak Speed in our shop because of its minimal yet effective design. It has what you need to stay hydrated with ease at a solid price point.
You can add this to your runs without noticing its presence so you can keep feeling light and minimal.
When we begin a new hobby, it’s easy for us to daydream about a future in which we have mastered the discipline we are studying. We have an instinct to move out of the beginner phase as soon as possible. The idea of climbing the steps of Parnassus to its summit is an appealing one, but it’s a fallacy. For true mastery is the knowledge that there is no finish line.
For the past decade I’ve been a music teacher, teaching private guitar lessons. Many of my students have been adults who have finally carved out the time to pursue a new hobby. One of the things I quickly observed of these adult students was their quickness to admonish themselves for their self-perceived slowness in progress. They were so concerned with their destination that they had forgotten to embrace the journey.
A few years into my teaching career I had the realization that I didn’t remember what it’s like to be a beginner. I had been playing guitar for the majority of my life and had forgotten the vulnerability of learning a new skill. In order to grow as a teacher, I decided I needed to step outside of my own comfort zone and become a beginner myself. In short, I wanted to learn how to learn.
Believe it or not, this was my entry into trail running. I rekindled my childhood love of the outdoors and did my first backpacking trip that eventually morphed into my discovery of trail running. Every couple of years I try to continue this study of learning by trying new pursuits. I’ve used what I’ve learned from teaching to shape my approach.
The thing I’ve learned from working with students of all ages is the stark contrast between the way children and adults approach learning. At some point in our lives, we seem to forget how to learn. We develop a rigidity incongruent with growth.
An adult treats learning as a task. Something to accomplish that they aim to do with the highest proficiency possible. We incorrectly have the notion that there is a path to mastery. If we stay the course, never deviating, we will reach our destination.
An adult student will put their heads down and muddle through exercises they hate because they have faith that it will get them to where they want to be. A young learner has no awareness of future results. They are simply playing in the moment. A child does not assign value to play. They do the thing without fear of failure and embarrassment or promise of success and greatness.
It’s easy to let our egos get in the way of our progress. When we scold ourselves for mistakes we make in learning, we create an environment that's not conducive to growth. Learning should be messy and nonlinear. We have a way of inventing a destination point and trying to draw a straight line back from there to where we are now. Then we get angry with ourselves for not being able to stick to this self-imposed ideal of progress.
The truth is, there is no destination point. The summit we see before us is not truly the summit. As we learn, grow and climb the proverbial mountain, our concept of mastery moves with us. It is only once we reach this false peak that we can see how much further we have to go. With running, and all hobbies, it’s important to remember that our progress in the discipline is a relative concept and our concern with that progress, in many instances, is counterproductive.
The word “beginner” can sound like a rebuff, but I say embrace it in all its vulnerability. When you allow yourself to be a beginner, you are giving yourself the grace to make mistakes. Making mistakes is an inseparable part of the learning process. Focus less on the results and learn to love the process. The destination is not the point of the hobby, but rather a catalyst. The journey is our true aim.
Several years ago, an American outdoor magazine published an article that highlighted the importance of diversity and inclusivity in the outdoors at a time where the protection of a national monument and, more generally, public lands were under the threat of privatization and development. The article posited that if individuals, especially those that identify as people of color (POC) or are from historically marginalized groups, never feel welcomed in these spaces, their ability to cultivate a personal and meaningful connection to the outdoors will be limited. Subsequently, these individuals may not participate in voting on policies that will protect our environment and wild spaces. However, it was only until recently did I ask myself, “What was this article missing?”.
At the time, this was a different angle than I was used to seeing with regards to environmental activism. Also, the conversation around the lack of diversity in outdoor recreation was not what it is today. Fortunately, the article underscored that every individual has the power to vote, regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, or sexual orientation. Every person yields a small but mighty chisel that can shape the future of our planet in the face of climate change. I thought about this message for years, and to its credit, the article did its job. I felt empowered because voting is one avenue in which I, a woman, a child of immigrants and a long-time trail runner, may have my experiences and values recognized.
Yes, I should vote but who is to assume that individuals who may identify as Black, Indigenous, or a person of color (BIPOC) wouldn’t vote on policies to protect the environment? In the context of environmental protection and conservation, what is the role of outdoor recreation? Who defines outdoor recreation? Also, did this article veer towards stereotyping an entire BIPOC community as one homogenous group? Each of these questions could be an article on its own. I would also be incapable of answering them in a way that represents an entire BIPOC community because we are not a monolith. As a cisgender, Asian-American female, my lived experiences and sense of safety in the outdoors will be different than those of a Black man, an Indigenous woman, a Latinx transgender person, and the list goes on. Moreover, within any group, there will be a range of experiences influenced by socioeconomic factors.
As the reader, I do want to leave you with this: BIPOC communities have always had their own unique relationship to the physical environment and climate change has only brought this into acute focus.
1) This connection may be cultural. For example, Indigenous groups have always had an intimate and profound spiritual relationship with the land. Indigenous activism to protect the environment was necessitated the moment colonization began.
2) The harsh reality is that BIPOC communities have been disproportionately impacted by climate change whether that is through exposure to polluted air, water, soil and/or poorer working conditions. They are often at the front lines, bearing the brunt of global warming. A recent example from the PNW is when an immigrant agricultural worker died of a heat-related illness after working outside despite record-breaking temperatures day after day. Of course, BIPOC voters recognize the impact of climate change on their own communities.
3) BIPOC communities have always valued their connection with nature and enjoy spending time outside. However, when you visualize what a person that is into “outdoor recreation” looks like, what kind of person do you see in your head? The image, at least in media, tends to be a slim or fit-looking white person, perhaps with a rugged mountain range in the background. These images were created by those who are in power and have historically written the narratives we see most often.
BIPOC communities do have their own connections with the natural world. What about the immigrant family that goes to the river each weekend so their kids can play? What about the Black farmer that focuses on regenerative agricultural practices? Why aren’t we seeing or hearing those stories?
Racial justice and environmental justice are inextricably tied. Historically, conversations around environmental activism and outdoor recreation have been missing our stories. They are missing the voices of the BIPOC and marginalized communities. Ask us about our lived experiences. Ask us what outdoor recreation means to us. Ask us how we view our own roles and responsibilities with living on a resource-limited planet. Ask us how we think environmental policies will impact our communities. Ask us questions that might make us all uncomfortable. Ask us if our ability to earn a living and meet basic human needs would be impacted by the environmental policies and their tax ramifications. Ask if transportation or need for transitional housing impacts our ability to get to voting polls or mail in our ballots. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs reminds us that certain requirements must be satisfied for one to fully achieve self-actualization and that includes being able to fully give back to our community and planet.
One’s influence on our planet is also not restricted to voting day. There is a lot of work and education that must occur before we see what is proposed on the voting ballots and who gets to the polls. We must listen and talk with one another. We may be from different communities but perhaps that is our strength. Our diversity of lived experiences can help us come up with more creative, thoughtful, and collaborative solutions to help protect our planet.
Vivian Tang is a long trail runner that also dabbles in mountain biking, skiing and rock climbing. She is willing to give any outdoor sport at least a few tries. She also is the co-leader of Trail Mixed Collective’s Portland trail running club and one of their Portland community leaders (2022-2023). She and her co-leader, Iris Marie Chavez, host twice monthly trail runs. She and other Portland community leaders also host a variety of events for womxn of color that seek community and mentorship in outdoor sports.
If you’re a womxn of color, want to meet others like yourself and don’t mind running a few miles in the process, pull up to our trail running club. Group runs are held at Forest Park the first Thursday of each month and at Mt. Tabor the third Thursday of each month. Sign up to join the Trail Mixed Portland run club or join one of the established groups in Seattle, Salt Lake City and Atlanta here. No womxn of color run clubs in your city? Consider starting one through Trail Mixed Co. Details here.
My eyes are watering. The trees are a blurred tapestry of green in my peripheral. Slack-jawed and fully in the tunnel, my focus is broad as if I’m solving a Magic Eye puzzle- seeing the hidden image for the very first time. It’s a fragile and fleeting state of being. The very awareness of the spell that’s been cast upon me is often enough to break it.
This primal instinct I’ve tapped into has my conscious brain turned off and I’m relying solely on sensory input without analysis or contemplation of that input. My body is somehow adjusting to the undulating terrain of root and rock beneath my feet without thought or effort. My breath is pulsing in time with my footfall as my speed increases. By all accounts, it would seem I’m running recklessly, but the opposite is happening- I’ve never felt so in control.
The best runs I’ve ever had were the result of my absolute absorption in the moment. A focus so intense that it’s as if all my body’s resources had been repurposed towards a singular goal. Time and distance lose all meaning. This is the feeling I’m running for. I’m running to turn off my mind.
The harder we try to push these things out of the foreground of our thoughts, the more entrenched they become. Running trails, however, can be a great conduit for turning off our brains. The repetition of movement, sounds, and visuals calm our minds and cause us to slip into the trance.
One of the best ways to get ourselves to refocus our mind is to take on something challenging to us. A task difficult enough to require our attention and discourage our thoughts from wandering. The most significant moments of our lives are not the moments of comfort and relaxation. These things are, in many ways, only enjoyable due to their relationship with the difficult challenges we’ve had to overcome to enjoy them. We are our most fulfilled selves when we embrace discomfort and voluntarily test our own limits to accomplish hard things.
At our core, I believe many of us are running trails to tap into a sense of Wild that has been lost. To reawaken some deeper connection to the landscapes we live in. To find a sense of freedom that we have allowed to fall dormant within us.
It’s a late spring day in 2020. The forest has gone through its annual transition from a dull brown hue to exploding with life and color. With this rebirth, the foliage experiences a period of growth that seems nearly impossible in the short time frame. The deciduous trees sag with the weight of spring leaves, undergrowth explodes out onto the trail, covering the misshapen tread below. In the previous months, the park has been an absolute mud pit. An insurgence of pandemic outdoor traffic has re-formed the trails into a lumpy mess that is beginning to harden as the forest dries out.
I’m beginning my run into Forest Park with a steep descent down the slip and slide that is Firelane 2. I challenge anyone to stay upright on this trail in the dead of winter. The Strava segment for the lower section of this trail is called “Forest Park Staircase” because, I can only assume, the trail-use in the winter forms a sort of staircase in the steep mud that hardens and remains intact all summer. As I round the first corner to begin the hellish descent I am met with the smoothest trail I’ve ever seen in the park. The tread has been leveled, drains installed for water management, and the typically overgrown flanks are trimmed back. I even notice some logs that have been across the trail since the winter are removed.
As I make my way down the hill I come across a lone man working the tread with a McLeod (a common trail restoration tool that’s somewhere between a hoe and a rake). After some chatting I gather that this is Bill Bannister, a retiree who has taken on the tall task of repairing the trails in Forest Park- a truly never-ending project. If you’ve spent any time in Forest Park the last couple of years, you’ve likely crossed his path. If you haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him, then you’ve certainly seen his work. Bill is happy to take the time to chat with you about his current project or gather reports from trail users about downed trees and damaged trail. Bill tracks all of his trail work on Strava, regularly posting about his latest project. For local Portland runners, he is an invaluable resource to keep up to date on trail conditions.
As trail runners, we’re often the end-users of a trail system, enjoying the fruits of others’ labor. We wanted to chat with Bill and find out what it takes to keep a trail system working. Bill, along with other volunteers from Forest Park Conservancy and Portland Parks, maintains more than 80 miles of trail in the park. We encourage everyone to consider volunteering with Forest Park Conservancy or your local trailwork organization. We’ve included a link at the end of this article.
Can you give us a little background on yourself? Have you always enjoyed the outdoors? I believe you mentioned you were retired, what did you do professionally?
I grew up surrounded by farms: cows/dairy, potatoes, chickens/eggs and horses/stud. My love of the outdoors was simply a way of life in the country. My neighboring forest looked like small state parks.
I met my wife in college where I studied math and economics. The math skills morphed into computer science and then a 35 year career. Even then, my best ideas have formed while walking or hiking. One even got me a patent.
When and why did you begin doing trail work?
Having been a computer nerd for 35 years, I was overweight and out of shape. I was introduced to an electric bike in 2018 and was amazed that I could ride again.
While riding Leif Erikson, Crown Zellerbach & Banks-Vernonia trails, I found it necessary to carry a saw to clear the way. I found a warm satisfaction in clearing the trails and hearing “Thank You” as others passed by.
3,000 miles later, I also started hiking the soft trails in Forest Park. I found more trees to clear and a wide area of water drainage issues. And began hearing many more “Thank You”s as others passed by. Then I met the trails managers for FPC (Forest Park Conservancy) and PP&R and my path to trail steward was set.
Which projects in the park do you get excited about doing? Which projects do you dread?
I love any project that makes an easily visible change. Brushing, raking leaves, tread work, branch and tree clearing.
Dread? None really. The closest I come is trying to fix erosion and drainage issues without ready access to stone. The dread part there is knowing the work will need repeating each year until we get some stone.
How often are you out on the trails working? Do you ever take a day off and just go out for a hike or would that turn into a scouting mission?
Pretty much daily. Sunday - Saturday for about 4-6 hours. I rarely just hike any more other than to get where I’m going. Even if I do, I can't pass up removing branches from the trail and getting pictures of what needs attention.
What do you enjoy doing outside of trail work?
For the past 3+ years, it’s all related to trail work. This year I got into short movies as training videos for the Forest Park Conservancy. Still on the steep side of that learning curve.
Do you have a favorite part of Forest Park?
It depends on the season.
When the waters are flowing I love the bridges on Maple.
When the leaves fall it’s the fire lanes.
For the spring, it’s Wildwood and the calls of the birds.
When it snows, it’s any trail in the park.
When it rains, any trail I get first hand views of drainage issues.
Is there anything you wish trail users knew about what it takes to maintain the trails?
The park is living, growing, constantly changing and wonderful place. I wish all that are able to come join our volunteer events to see firsthand what is done and what a difference it makes.
