From: "Dorion, Mark G" Date: Sun, 10 Apr 2005 15:26:46 -0600 "I'll be aroun'," I says. "I'll be around till hell freezes over!" --John Steinbeck, THE GRAPES OF WRATH "Never look back. Something may be gaining on you." --Leroy Satchell Paige (baseball great) . . . after falliing into Phillips Creek and getting rather wet at about 11PM at night, my vision and mind never seemed to be the same the rest of the way at the 2005 Barkley Marathons. I could see the lights of Craig Wilson and Wendell Doman atop Jury Ridge when I was at the bottom (so they were +-35-40 mins ahead at that point), but try as I might, their lights just seemed to get farther and farther ahead of me. It was while cresting Bald Knob that I realized what I now thought were their lights were actually the lights of some off-road vehicle somewhere north and west of the Garden Spot. As I started DOWN the logging road that exits the clear cut on Bald Knob, little did I realize that my whole race would be downhill (mentally, physcially and directionally) from there. I zoomed by the spot where the single-track trail exits the clear-cut/ logging road to the east, and was thinking "Wow, I'm feeling OK and making good time-- maybe I can squeak in under the 26:40 cut-off for 40 miles." I little realized that while I was still soaked from the thighs down, my old "noodle" was baking. After maybe 20 minutes of meandering on a series of old logging roads AND trails, something did not feel right and I extracted my compass from my pack. At first I thought "This can't be-- the compass is pointing in the wrong direction-- it says I am going WEST, when I must be going east towards sunny-bitch ditch and the coal ponds." (In all fairness, I have had my compass point the wrong way on several occasions in recent years, but that was when I was atop open ridges or summits with magnetic rocks that made the needle swoop around in devil-may-care fashion). For some reason it took me a LONG time to get back up to Bald Knob and the proper trail (the one where the old hunk of hangman's rope -- placed their many years ago by a rather twisted individual whose initials are G.C.-- hangs from a tree). Then, once on the trail, I kept losing it as it descended into the darkness and briar-cloaked forest near Sunny-Bitch Ditch. My compass kept me on course, and somehow I did cross the Ditch at the usual spot. This is where things began to go "bad." I got to the Coal Ponds and for some reason could not stay on course east and uphill to the Garden Spot. I did discover a much more extensive and pretty series of coal ponds and small waterfalls somewhere way north of the proper trail, but my "sightseeing" meant that by the time I did find Book 2 and the Garden Spot it was 4:45AM. It had taken me almost 8 hours to go almost 8 miles! As I hiked up to the top of Stallion Mountain I witnessed a spectacular pink and orange sunrise to the east. I also realized that we were in for a warm day (after the previous day's ice, snow, high winds and-- for me-- near hypothermia). There was just enough snow left in the shadows that Book 3 was hidden (the flat rock had a mound of ice on it). Finding this book (the hardest one on the course for me to find, given the snow and weather), I was chagrined to realize for the first time that no matter how hard I pushed, I would probably not make the 26:40 cut-off. BUT moments later, while crossing the first jeep road on the descent, I was spurred on by the sight of 5 deer prancing along not 20 yards from me. My goal coming to this year's Barkley was to do two loops in under 26 hours. A number of people told me I was setting my goals too low. ALL these people either a) have never attempted the Barkley or b) did not make even one full loop of the course. I find that interesting, because way back in the 1970s and 80s other ultrarunners often told me I set my goals/ sights too low. I don't believe any of those folks are still running. Perhaps there are some virtues to being a realist! I sat down at the bottom of Little hell (actually an eastern spur of Frozen Head Mountain-- thus we get to ascend Frozen Head Mountain twice in each loop!) to try to empty the water out of my heavy Montrail boots (I will not wear high top boots again on this course-- Dr. Leonard "Slide" Martin had warned me on Loop 1 that such footwear would get "incredibly heavy" when wet-- and that was an understatement). I looked at my watch and realized that not only would I not make the 26:40 cut-off, I would be lucky to get back to Camp under 30 hours. At this point (as I had felt all night), I remained convinced that many, many runners were ahead of me, with perhaps 10-15 folks on pace for 26:00 or faster at 40 miles. I was getting down on myself for being so slow and pathetic. But as Craig Wilson had told me more than once over the years, "You never know what is going on up ahead." For some reason when way out on the course I never think that "bad things" can happen to the faster runners too. Imagine my surprise when, trudging up the briar-patched slopes of RatJaw, two brightly-garbed figures came zooming downhill towards me. My respect (already great) for Andrew Thompson and Jim Nelson went up exponentially as both stopped to shake my hand and offer encouragement. Andrew reminded me that I did not quit, "and nobody can take that away from you." I believe without their encouragement I might have stopped at the summit of Frozen Head and taken a bee-line back to camp, especially as my #1 least favorite place on the course is the Zipline descent off Indian Knob Peak. I managed to jog across to the Hump and make decent time to Indian Knob where for some reason I could not locate the proper Capstone for over 10 minutes. I now believe that the Hump relocation (in+-2001?) adds at least 15 minutes to the course, maybe as much or more than the 2003 Stallion Mountain relocation. I do remember wondering aloud why the race directors saw fit to place two books so close together as the Hump and the Knob-- I could and can think of a number of more relevant books locations (such as the clear cut, the coal ponds junction or several other North Boundary Trail landmarks-- and I heard other Barkley veterans wondering the same thing). As I slipped and slid down the Zipline I wondered where all the other runners were! Amazingly, right at the creek junction where we cross from the boulder fields to the trail that goes down to Beech Fork/ the beech tree checkpoint, I met my old friend Mike Bur (the third and final runner to start on Loop 3, which goes in the reverse direction). In 2004 we had done much of the first two loops together before he stopped and I started out on Loop 3. This year he was out by himself trying to get around Loop 3 (I thought he had a chance to make the Fun Run finish, or at least go farther than the slopes below sawbriar point on little hell where I had bagged it in 2004). As always I found the ominously-named "big hell"/ ChimneyTop Mountain overrated, and even in my depleted state walked straight up in 55 minutes. I say depleted because while wolfing down a clif bar for some reason I took my gloves off at the book atop Chimney Top and left them laying on the ground. This was after I had found someone else's gloves, and an uneaten GU, on the ground several miles earlier (ah, the famous Barkley Lost and Found). My problems were not quite over for the day/ race as I somehow got off the switchbacks that drop off the end of the ChimneyTop summit ridge's east end (judging by the footprints, I was not the first runner to do this). Finally getting down ChimneyTop and Rough Ridge, I was surprised to find another runner walking up the trail asking if I was all right and claiming "we were getting worried about you; it's getting late in the day." I responded that I was "fine, just slow" today and in fact was taken aback that fellow runners would think so little of my ability to find my way around the course and get back to camp in one piece. (Gary later told me that while others were getting worried about the 3 of us who were over the time limit on Loop 2, "Never for a minute was I worried about you 3 guys. You might have been slow, but you guys are experienced." This made me feel better. In fact one reason I was SO slow was that I DID take extra time when very tired, wanting to finish in one piece and to avoid sickness or injury. I actually felt good enough to jog up the road to the Gate, and truly believe that I could have resupplied and gone out for a few more miles (after all, I had done it before when I was even more sleepy than this year). Alas, I was nearly 5 hours OVER the time limit, and Gary was already warming up the bugle as I touched the yellow gate. He who knows does not speak. He who speaks does not know. --Lao-tzu, THE WAY OF LAO-TZU One thing that depressed me was the number of runners and hangers-on who immediately started jumping on me with comments like "Why were you SO slow?" or "Gosh, I can't believe you couldn't make the Fun Run this year." In fact not one person said I had made even a halfway decent effort. I don't need awards or even congratulations for any ultra or race I attempt, but I also could do without negative comments. I found this especially enlightening after being told by Gary that I was only the 7th (seventh) runner to make it to 40 miles! I watched Andrew and Jim cruise in after 60+ miles a while later and wished them well as they started out on Loop 4. They looked GREAT leaving the campground, even having enough extra energy to jokingly run over to some campers' mountain bikes and make as if to hop on them. Thus I was saddened when Jim missed the time-cut off at 80 miles the next day, and Andrew had to hustle to get out of camp 10 minutes before 48:00. HOWEVER I was so impressed by their tremendous efforts that I plan to send each a special gift, in Andrew's case someting he can really use during his upcoming Appalachian Trail speed-hike attempt (*which I believe he may find easier than 88+ miles on the Barkley course). One of the highlights of the weekend for me was the wonderful campfire Sunday night, and Karl "RawDog"'s excellent home cooking (I had dreamed of a HOT cup of coffee and hot beans for 32 hours, and Karl delivered!) I could have listened to Mike Tilden and Gary and Jonathan "JB" tell stories all night, but by 11PM I was so tired I truly thought a large bear was at the campsite (Davy Henn later informed me that when sleeping his Father DID sound just like a bear!) Today (Sunday Aril 10) I jogged 14 miles VERY slowly and felt OK, and for the first day since my record-slow Frozen Head slog a few fleeting thoughts of "next year" danced through my head . . . "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." --George Santayana, LIFE OF REASON (now THERE is a book title for Gary) "And speak of the devil, here's our (race director) now, looking a little the worse for wear." --William Safire, FULL DISCLOSURE "'Tis strange-- but true; for truth is always strange; Stranger than fiction." --Lord Byron, DON JUAN