Running News Daily

Not an Early Riser? Try Dusk Patrol

Making time for adventure at sunset is just as effective and admirable as waking up for an alpine start

Whether you’re a seasoned backcountry skier or a new trail runner, chances are you’ve heard a pack of your fellow outdoorspeople gloating about their latest sunrise summit attempt, patting each other on the backs and guffawing because they had so much fun waking up at 4 A.M. for dawn patrol. Yuck.

Dawn patrol refers to the act of waking up before the sun and heading out on an early morning adventure, then speeding back to town to clock in to your desk job. There’s nothing inherently fun about rising early to ski or run or paddle, but when you call it “dawn patrol,” it becomes something else. As long as I’ve been in the outdoor world, dawn patrol has felt like the proverbial cool kids table that, in theory, anybody can sit at, so long as they like to rise in the dark and get their sweat on before their brains are fully awake. Unfortunately, that’s not me.

As a certified non-morning person who needs several cups of coffee to get going each day, it’s darn near impossible to convince me to wake up any earlier than I have to before reporting to work at my computer. Because I value my sleep and often have morning job commitments, I carve my adventure time out later in the day. I know I’m not alone in this. Those of us who still want to get after it on a random weekday from time to time deserve our own glorified phrase: dusk patrol.

I spent 19 years living in Los Angeles with a full-time day job. For me, dusk patrol often meant zooming out of my office’s parking structure at 5 P.M. on the dot to lace up my trail runners, don a headlamp, and jog up the side of Mount Hollywood, just as the city’s infamous smog would turn an otherworldly tangerine with the sunset. It was hard but rewarding to make these sunset jaunts happen. On one such occasion, I even stopped on the hike down for an impromptu planetarium show at the historic Griffith Observatory.

On another one of my post-work whims, I checked the moon phases app on my phone and reached out to a few friends to join me for a nighttime trek up the coastal Los Liones Trail. A full moon meant that we didn’t need to use our headlamps, and our late start time meant that we had the trail entirely to ourselves. The smell of SoCal chaparral and the moonlit ocean views from the gravel path made for an utterly magical evening as we twirled around and made hand puppets with our prominent moon shadows.

Once I had really gotten into the spirit of these sojourns, friends started divulging their own favorite nighttime microadventures with me, like well-guarded family secrets that needed to be whispered and held tightly. A guy I was dating once left work early and drove out to Joshua Tree with me to scramble up one of his favorite unnamed peaks at sunset, cans of beer conveniently stashed in our packs. My buddy Brandon introduced me to a weekly cycling meet up in Los Angeles called The Passage of a Few People Through a Rather Brief Moment in Time, which took riders to the farthest-flung corners of the city. It was a group for athletic lovers of the odd and the urban, meeting at 24-hour strip mall donut shop and taking its participants through secret tunnels, down pitch black dirt trails, to industrial mining quarries, and along abandoned piers overlooking the ragged Pacific.

I live in Boulder, Colorado now, and though the after-work traffic is nowhere near as soul-crushing as in the City of Angels, I’ve tried to keep the spirit of dusk patrol alive, which is much easier these days with a chunk of the Rocky Mountains at my doorstep. But of course, better outdoor access also gives me more room to get creative with my outings.

Last October, my partner Oliver and I drove my minivan across a series of winding roads to witness the autumn elk rut in Rocky Mountain National Park as the sun set over the soaring Continental Divide. As we hiked around a rocky bend, our terror and delight, we witnessed an enormous bull screeching his bugle call just off trail as he gathered his harem. I’ve knocked out countless sunset summits with my mutt, Marla, on Mount Sanitas and multiple Flatiron trails near town, and this year, I aim to step it up a notch and take advantage of the nearby Indian Peaks Wilderness to get out for some weeknight backpacking trips, planning to be back at my desk at 10 A.M. to check my email.

If you can’t tell by now, I’m a huge fan of having your cake and eating it too. In other words, even if you’re not a morning person, you can still get after it on a random weekday evening. Here are some of my tried-and-true tips for making dusk patrol a smooth experience.

No one wants to rush to the trailhead after work, only to realize that they forgot their precious hydration bladder. Pack the night or the morning before your nighttime rendezvous, when you’re not in a tizzy, then toss your fully-loaded pack and trail shoes (or inflatable kayak/SUP if you’re more or a river rat) into your car, so you can leave straight from work.

In Alastair Humphreys’ appropriately-named new book, Local, he sets out to complete one adventure per week for an entire year. The catch? They all have to be within his neighborhood. He’s proof that you don’t have to live at the foot of a 14er or on a piece of waterfront property to have a weekday adventure–climb a tree and watch the sunset, take a five mile jog around a part of town you’ve never been to, or try out mudlarking (scouring a shoreline at low tide to try to unearth ocean treasures). Fellow adventurer and Outside contributor Brendan Leonard told me that once, in lieu of heading into the Rocky Mountain foothills, he and some friends biked the entire 53 mile length of Colfax Ave in Denver (the longest commercial byway in the U.S.) and experienced the thrilling immersion of passing through multiple radically different neighborhoods as they bisected the city on two wheels.

It goes without saying that most dusk patrol missions will not involve time-consuming, home-cooked meals with a knife and fork. Either pack a no-cook, soak-in-the-bag meal to eat at the trailhead or summit (Pact-It Gourmet makes a bevy of awesome treats that can dehydrate in lukewarm water while you trek), or splurge on your favorite take out, then chow down during the drive to your starting point.

As someone who didn’t start rock climbing until age 29, it was news to me that you can easily purchase a veritable floodlight to place atop your head that’ll cast a blinding glow, suitable for the most intense evening excursions. Just be sure to pack an extra set of batteries or double-check your light’s charge level (if it’s a plug-in model) the night before your dusk patrol plan. The Petzl Actik Core and Black Diamond Spot 400 have both served me well on night hikes and low-light rock scrambling missions.

Not only is it safer to have a friend in tow on after-dark excursions, should things go sideways, it’ll also help hold you accountable, so that you don’t bail on your mountain goals after an annoying phone call or conference room fiasco at the office. Plus, aren’t sunsets just a smidge more spellbinding when you experience them in good company? Pick a specific time and place to meet each other after work, and don’t forget to tell someone not on the adventure what time you both plan to return home.