Trading road for trail

Dew covered raspberry thorns thrash my bare shins as I ride the wave of a banked corner and then hop a woodpecker-carved deadfall. Adroit leaves grab at my upper body. Ducking a canopy of branches, my shoulder bumps a sapling and I'm riddled with last night's heavy condensation. The air is dark and crisp, void of pollution, soon to be saturated by the rays of the morning sun.

I notice a synergy between my heavy breathing and the song of the early rising robins. I didn't set out to do speed work, but the trails have roped me in. I think of how this experience compares with my regular midweek morning runs. My typical run entails miles of concrete, air pollution that ranges from the smell of dill pickles to melting crayons, a total of seven 90-degree turns, and an elevation gain of nearly 20 feet. It's enjoyable enough and suits its purpose, but is no trail run.

My first trail runs were done on the trail I'm revisiting this morning - the Fumee Lake trails of Norway, Michigan. This natural reserve consists of two lakes with a loop around each one. The loops are relatively flat and nontechnical. The real fun is found on the mountain trails. Although a far cry from a mountain trail, the singletrack indulged me with miles of twisting and roller coaster terrain.

My concrete bitten legs welcome the reprieve. After training on the road, day after day, I can predict every fissure and bump in the concrete. Getting lost literally and figuratively is possible on these trails. The intriguing traits of the trails keep me on edge. Just when I thought I knew them, they throw out a new quirk - a sabotaging root, a slippery corner or shoe-sucking mud.

I desired to uncover the true personality of the trail. Realizing I could only do this with time, I undertook a self-supported 50-mile run on the Fumee Lake trails. All said and done, I knew them better, but not in full.

I no longer live near the Fumee Lake trails. After relocating to Green Bay, Wisconsin, I spent more time on the roads. They were there and easy to find. I crisscrossed blocks, mapped routes, timed miles and found quieter streets. After a month straight of running on these lethally unyielding surfaces, I needed trails.

I went to the local running store.

The salesclerk asked, "What shoes do you normally run in?"

I replied, "Do you know of any trails?"

I walked out of the store with something better than new shoes: three new friends. They were the Baird Creek Trail, University of Wisconsin-Green Bay Campus Arboretum Trail and the Reforestation Camp Trail.

First I checked out the Baird Creek Trail. It serves up technical trail running right in town. With the trailhead only three miles from my stoop, a nice warm-up can send me to some of the only trails in Green Bay. The singletrack provides natural hill repeats. The trail is recognized as an urban trail by an occasional tree with graffiti, random littered articles of clothing and pedestrian smoking teens.

The trail may lack cleanliness, but it makes up for it with its technicality. When the trails are wet, the clayish soil turns into a slip-n-slide challenge. I learned the truth of this running down a bomber of a hill. It was raining and the trail was soaked. I was two hops down the slope when my feet spat forward and my arms went back to catch myself. My holster-style water bottle took the brunt of the fall down the hill.

The UWGB Campus Trail is diametrically opposed to Baird Creek Trail when it comes to technicality. The majority of the trail is bark-covered and flat. The trail doubles as a wildlife walk. While running there I've seen deer, cardinals, orioles, woodpeckers and even a family of raccoons. The southern end of the trail tranquilizes me with its wild setting, but I'm soon awaken by the campus buildings that the trail encircles.

When I crave even cleaner air and miles of singletrack, I drive the 20 minutes to the Reforestation Camp trails. These trails host the Reforestation Ramble, a part of the Wisconsin Off-Road Series of mountain bike and trail running races. The well-maintained trail allows your mind to meander as you weave and undulate over the trails. They are well-mapped out and numerous trail maps post the mile notations.

Living in a city does not rule out trail running. It only makes you appreciate it more. I would take the trails over the roads any day. Still, out of convenience, I often find my legs pounding out the asphalt mashing miles.

I have discovered ways to enjoy the trails more often. One way is planning all of my long runs on trails. This is easier on my legs and provides more of an adventure. I've also found that by signing up for trail races, I'm more prone to train on trails. Another strategy is doing my speed work on trails. The trails lend themselves to fartlek workouts - flying up the hills, speeding through corners, taking walk breaks to catch my breath, and then running downhill at high velocity. One last way that helps to get me on the trails is running from my house to the trail. The trail becomes a reward, and I end up tacking on miles that would have been spent sitting in my car.

This morning I was planning to run the Fumee Lake trails beginning in the early dawn and breaking through the first morning light, but I misjudged and spent three quarters of the run in coke black darkness. Even in the dark I'm happier here than I would be on the road.

On trails I avoid the early morning commuters with their high beams and unwelcome exhaust. I've overlooked bringing my headlamp and have had to rely on the light of the moon. These many faceted trails offer unlimited dimensions. Once again I beam with gratefulness knowing I've traded the one-dimensional roads for the many splendors of the trails.