when does a barkley race report really begin?
for me, it begins on the long drive home.
my mind still filled with the dramatic stories of this year,
turns unavoidably to the hurdles to be cleared before next year.
 
the barkley was supposed to be easy to direct.
little offered and little provided.
i suppose it decieved me,
as it has deceived so many aspiring finishers along the way.
the barkley calls for each person's full measure...
 
and then it demands a little more.
 
for 99% of us, that is not enough.
 
even as i drive, and think about next year,
i know i am not alone.
barkers might fail.
they are never defeated.
i know that others are sharing my contemplation.
i might be considering potential tweaks to the course,
and starting times.
runners still aching from the beating,
pride still stinging from utter failure,
are concocting plans for outrageous training loads;
tweaking of gear and acquisition of new skill sets.
 
our paths may diverge for a year,
but we all have the same beacon calling to us.
that gallant, agonizing, and generally futile exercise
that they call "the barkley."
 
this was not one of the easy years.
a full court press by the barkley's one sworn enemy
failed to drive us from the park (yet again)
but it required 3 months of e-mail conflict.
 
that hurdle cleared,
the pace quickened.
a field was selected, and a weight list formed.
 
i knew that there were many training schedules kicking into gear,
a lot of them by weight listers,
even with no guarantee that their slot would come open.
 
i don't feel too bad about that.
such training won't be wasted.
if you are in good enough shape to achieve a worthy failure at the barkley,
it will be enough to destroy most courses.
 
book setout trips come and go.
it is as good as ever to get out in the woods at frozen head.
it is a time of renewal, clambering thru the mountains with raw dog.
we do not cover ground like we used to.
but we are still up to the challenge.
it is still fun.
and we always see something we have never seen before.
 
this year was tinged with sadness.
another tradition i looked forward to was having dinner with ma henn.
last year i had been shocked at how much she seemed to have aged,
i was afraid it might be the last dinner we shared.
and that was how it came to pass.
 
but this is life.
on the other hand,
little davy, the impish boy who brought the bugle,
has become dave, soon to be married.
 
more than 40 years of trips to frozen head
so neatly measure out my adult life.
some have been easy, some have been hard...
 
ok. most (maybe all) have been hard.
i would not trade away so much as a single one.
 
when i started gathering the piles of stuff to bring to the race,
it really started to feel like barkley.
my checklist was massaged and studied.
just like the runners, i try each year to do a little better.
to be more prepared.
 
it required discipline to wait and make each purchase at the proper time.
perishable items coming last.
 
finally the day came that had seemed like would never arrive.
on thursday i packed the last of the stuff in the rented cargo van.
then me and little headed out.
 
this is little's biggest weekend of the year.
all the goings on would overwhelm the big.
i cannot bring him, 
unless i would be able to pay him close attention the whole time.
that is not possible during the barkley.
little seems to thrive there.
 
having seen the forecasts for bad weather on friday,
i stopped off to put out the prison book on thursday.
i visited a while at the campgrounds,
and then headed off to get a room in wartburg.
there will not be many creature comforts in the days ahead.
 
i was a little disappointed to only sleep 2 hours thursday night.
i quit using an alarm clock some years ago,
since i don't sleep much anyway.
but i ususally sleep more than 2 hours.
i had hoped to stock up on sleep before the race.
instead, me and little went out running around wartburg in the night.
it was windy and spitting rain,
but little didn't mind.
neither did i.
as the early morning traffic started heading off to work,
me and little returned to our room,
and got ready to go to frozen head.
maybe i would sleep a little longer friday night.
 
friday was a day of fun.. and nervousness.
after waiting out the morning rains,
and being grateful for the "kowalski manor" the first of many times,
i got camp set up at a leiturely pace.
the hanging of the license plates took longer than ever.
we got runners signed in, and brought out the master map.
eager runners got their first good look at this year's course
and were soon busily transcribing the course to their own maps.
 
the weather was good when i started the first batch of charcoal,
and for hours there were empty plates for every piece of chicken that came off the grill.
eventually all the runners trickled away
to spend restive nights in their tents and cars,
leaving me and raw dog to talk late into the night.
after even mr dog retired,
i puttered around camp a while,
and then retired to sleep myself.
 
i was disappointed to wake up in 2 hours again.
i tried to get back to sleep,
because it would be a long, long time before i got another chance.
but it was no use.
 
so me and little got up in the darkness again.
as soon as i opened the door to my van,
a light came on in a car parked directly beside it.
the french tv crew had sat up all night in shifts,
so they could film the blowing of the conch.
 
it seems like every year there is more media at the barkley.
it is something i cannot understand.
this year they seemed to be everywhere.
but i have to give the french guys credit;
they were as determined to meet their goals as the runners themselves.
just like all the rest, this team had massaged me for information about the starting time.
just like always, i didn't reveal anything.
(only me and raw dog know when the race will start)
they would be the only ones to get film of the conch.
 
later, some of the others would ask me to "recreate" the moment,
so they could film it.
i told them that would be "perpetrating a fraud."
we won't have any TV timeouts at barkley while i am alive.
 
me and little still had some time to fill,
and then, precisely an hour and fifteen minutes before daybreak,
just as it had been planned for a year,
the mournful sound of the conch echoed thru the camp.
one hour until the start.
 
a minute later a car alarm sounded,
and went on for several minutes.
i think that was deliberate.
no worry, tho.
no one would sleep thru the start.
most of them had probably slept very little.
bad things would be happening today.
 
and they would start happening very soon.
 
to be continued.
 
laz