By Ian MacLellan
Before COVID-19, I traveled too much. In the last year, I went to Ireland to film an FKT attempt on the Wicklow Round with Paddy O’Leary, California to film Magda Boulet on the Tahoe Rim Trail, the Philippines and Cambodia to photograph for Janji, the Adirondacks and far corners of New England for the Northern Forest Center, Oregon and California for weddings, and several other locations for various client projects. I was energized by the work but exhausted by the lifestyle. So when every job and trip I had scheduled was either canceled or indefinitely delayed because of COVID-19, part of me was happy to be forced to stay home in Portland, Maine.
The light at the end of the tunnel was going to be what I thought was a COVID-19 safe plan to run the Teton Crest Trail through Wyoming (a very beautiful 41 miles at high altitude) this August. I would be traveling with a group of new friends and visiting old ones in Bozeman, Montana, and Boise, Idaho, during the trip. Back in March, things looked very safe out West, and I was excited about seeing new places and socializing with people outside of my Maine community.
In preparation for this adventure, I did my style of diligent training: running a second place finish in the Runaways FCRC online race, short runs on Portland Trails, occasional bike rides, and surf sessions if the waves were good. Out of an overabundance of caution, I ran alone except for family trail runs with my fiancée, Emma, and our new puppy, Dilly. I also worked for two months at Cultivating Community’s greenhouse in Falmouth, Maine, at the start of the summer, which kept me outside all day and on my feet.
As the trip out West approached, it’s realization was looking more and more grim, and traveling just for a vacation seemed less than wise. Emma is a preschool teacher, and her in-person teaching started back in July. The nightmare scenario for me was catching the virus in the airport and then having it spread to all of her preschoolers and their families. I decided to have an antibody test done to see if I’d already had COVID-19 and possibly had immunity. Sadly (or happily, depending on how you look at it), I tested negative, and any confidence I had about getting on a plane evaporated. So, I canceled my trip and right away dug out my White Mountains maps to find some routes.
With the change of plans, I needed a goal and a new adventure. Before COVID-19 times, my role as a photographer and filmmaker was largely focused on documenting other people’s athletic and creative achievements rather than dreaming up my own. I’d chase people for a few miles while they raced for their record or time and always had new projects on the horizon. I liked being in that support role, but it’s not a role that’s needed very much right now. After having spent the past few months playing it safe and staying close to home, I yearned for more excitement.
Within a few days of canceling my trip out West, I set out at 3 AM for a sunrise run up Whiteface and Passaconaway, both New Hampshire 4000-Footers. This first run was a shakeout to test the waters for bigger and more wild routes. Finally, I was running in the wilderness, away from the sound of the highway! I felt so liberated by this one little mountain loop, sweating hard while walking the steepest uphills and running the downhills and flats as fast as I could.
Mount Whiteface, New Hampsire
I decided to seek out more mountains to run in New Hampshire, timing my runs for when the trails would be quietest and most beautiful (I’m still a photographer), and sticking to sunrise and sunset starts. The following week, late one afternoon, I felt called to get back out there, and I arrived at the trailhead to Mount Carrigain at nearly 6 PM. After climbing 3,300 vertical feet, I was treated to a beautiful sunset. I fished my DSLR out of my running pack only to find that I’d forgotten to put a memory card in (a sign of how much photography work I had done recently).
Mount Carrigain, New Hampshire
Embarking on these recent adventures had me wanting to travel even further off the beaten path. I found a 24-mile backpacking loop, near Mount Isolation, that tagged a half dozen summits with 7,000 feet of climbing. It seemed like the obvious choice because of its name alone. After months of having no big plans, it felt energizing to organize anything in advance.
I rolled out of bed at 2:40 AM on Thursday, August 13th, and hopped straight into the car. As shooting stars filled the sky over the empty state highway, I felt as though I was dreaming. I later learned that it was the peak of the Perseids meteor shower. Upon arriving at the trailhead, I laced up my shoes, grabbed my headlamp, and started down the trail, only to fall less than 0.1 miles in, while adjusting my headlamp. With a bloody palm, I was off to a good start.
Mount Isolation, New Hampshire
The woods were quiet, and I felt like I was actually alone, a feeling which is hard to come by in the peak summer season of the White Mountains. My watch read 14 miles when I first saw another person. Aside from the exposed summit of Mount Isolation itself, I was fighting cobwebs on overgrown trails, and an especially tricky section following a river, Rocky Branch Trail, was littered with uprooted trees and miniature cairns. It was like running in a giant’s playground.
Mount Resolution, New Hampshire
“I spent my time in quarantine dreaming about the day I would be able to get on a plane and fly to a truly wild place for an epic adventure, but the epic adventures, and the wild places, were right here in New England.”
I hobbled back to my car after seven hours. I was not the King of any Mountains, but today was the change of scenery and perspective that I needed. I spent my time in quarantine dreaming about the day I would be able to get on a plane and fly to a truly wild place for an epic adventure, but the epic adventures, and the wild places, were right here in New England. I’m still thinking about the next route, this time with friends. Up next: Kilkenny Ridge.
Mount Crawford, New Hampshire
About the Author
Ian is a photographer and filmmaker who enjoys early morning surf sessions, afternoon gravel bike rides, and sunset trail runs. He lives in Portland, Maine, and has photographed and made movies for clients like L.L. Bean, Runner’s World, the Appalachian Mountain Club, and The New York Times. Ian is currently in his seventh year of a photo a day project.
