2015 Barkley Marathons
Charlie Taylor Race
Report
The day that the condolences came I
knew relatively fast that I did not get in.
After all, this was the 4th time I had entered, although the
first year, I did not do it right. I had
no idea how the weight list was announced and when I did not see my name pop
up, I resigned myself to the fact that 2015 would not be my year. After all, I kinda bombed out on all of my
races in 2014, having colon removal in December 2013 and liver resection in
late January, then 12 nasty sessions of chemo April thru August. I did manage to pull off 12 races with 8 of
them ultras, including a course record setting 3 man vol state relay 3 days
after one of those treatments. I didn’t
do real well in any of my fall races due to the after effects of putting weed
killer, as my friend Stu Gleman calls it, into my body. I ran 2 of Laz’s fall races, the Barkley fall
classic and missed the cutoff about halfway into the race and Big Dog Backyard,
dropping after 3 miserable loops. At
Stump Jump 50K, I finished only 13 minutes before the sweeper caught me, almost
3 hours after I normally would have finished.
All in all, fall racing was not good.
But I ran anyway.
I was outside working when I got a
text from my friend Bill Lovett saying that he was sorry that I didn’t straight
in but I had a great place on the weight list.
I ran into the office, pulled up the info and discovered that old Charlie
T was 2nd on the weight list, guaranteeing me a place in the March
28 race. I called Terri, so excited that
I could hardly talk! I was in, finally!
I started planning trips to Frozen
Head to train and picked up a few items that I would need to get through this
monster of a race. Tubs for my gear and some
clothes, a new compass, FH topo maps, and preparing for the fools weekend,
which was 11 weeks away was at top of my mind.
I was getting back in decent shape but I had done zero hill work in over
a year. I had a long way to go to even
think of doing well.
January weather in middle Tennessee
started with a bang. I had signed up for
The Pistol 100 mile in Maryville and halfway through my race, it started
pouring rain. 40 degrees and a
deluge. It rained all night and the
creeks came up to mid thigh with 2 crossings per loop. Well, is this Barkley training or not? I thought about quitting but quickly told
myself, if I can’t handle this, I can’t handle Barkley. So I ran.
The whole race. In the rain. It wasn’t that bad. Most of running is mental anyway. Except for when I was crossing a road and
some redneck who I happened to cross the road in front of decided to shoot me
in the ass cheek with a paintball gun from his car – 5 feet away. That part of running is not mental. That part
is real. Big bruise on the ass cheek,
first barkley training Badge. I finished slow but I finished. First Barkley test completed.
The weather in January was cold, a
lot of rain and some snow. I was still
having a hard time getting out of bed at 4:30 to run with my local buds at 5:00
due to the fall Chemo stuff still riding around inside me and I started going
to the local YMCA on occasion. I shortly
discovered that they had 3 dreadmills that would elevate to 30%. Try 30% on a dreadmill sometime. It’s hard to run, even slow.
I started doing this 3-4 days a week for a
hour each time at 25% at about 2.5 Mph and found that I was bad out of climbing
shape. When I could make myself, I would
then go outside and run some miles. Then
go to work and sometimes come back to the Y and do another hour.
January 24th I got my 2nd
test in the form of Mountain Mist 50K in Huntsville, AL. It snowed real good the day before and
thoughts were that they might call off the race, but they didn’t. I got up early Saturday morning and made the
120 mile drive to Huntsville. The race
was the nastiest, slickest mud I have ever been a part of. The crazy downhills were like glass and the
course is really rocky. I made it
though, taking my time and focusing on beating it in my mind. I ran into none other than Leonard Buttslide
Martin again as I had run some with him at Pistol 100 3 weeks before. My time was slow but only about an hour
slower than what I would normally run this race.
My 3rd test came at the
Cummins Falls Marathon in Cookeville, TN.
Normally a really nice course with a couple killer hills. One of the biggest snows in several years
fell the night before. I went to
Cookeville the day before to beat the snow but it came anyway. 8-10” of snow fell and I ran into the ditch
only 1 mile before the turn to the race and had to be towed out. They held up the start time for over an hour
for stragglers. At the start line, the
slush was 8” deep and feet were wet within 10 minutes. 35 degree chill and steady melting rain kept
the edge on. I ran mostly by myself,
which I quite enjoy, and once again, pushed through a miserable race, winning
Grandmasters division in a slow time.
February and March were cold and we
had more record snow. I ran one day in
solid 10” of fresh white snow, no traffic on the highway and I ran right down
the middle of a 4 lane highway for more than 2 miles before I met the first car. It was 0 degrees and minus 15 chill. On days like this, I would normally hit it
for 12-15 miles.
I made 2 trips to Frozen head, one
with Jim Ball and we camped for a night and made forays into the North Boundary
trail learning the terrain and trying to relate to where everything was and
another day trip with Dusty Hardman and Buttslide Martin to explore Indian Knob
and the capstone area. I feel like I
learned a lot about the park in a short time.
I started searching for a campsite
and almost immediately ,Thomas Armbruster offered a spot on his site. I gathered all my Barkley stuff together, set
it out in the bedroom floor so I could psyche myself out over it and set my
sights on the fool’s weekend.
I left Thursday morning for the 3
hour drive to Wartburg and arrived about 1PM in a light rain. There is something about coming in past the
Morgan County Correctional Center that makes you want to stop and take a
picture of the sheer beauty of the Brushy Mountains, so I did. The terror that lies up in those
mountains doesn’t show to a normal human
but I had some idea that I was in for a real treat. I got to our camp site, got my tent set up in
between rains, got my tarps set up for a dry shelter and had everything ready
in about an hour. I blew up my air
mattress (I guess I’m a wimp) and laid down my brand new warm Marmot sleeping
bag Christmas present that Terri got me for the cold night ahead. Thomas and I chatted a bit and I turned in
by 9PM, intending on getting a good night s sleep.
I did not wake until 9am and felt
great. It got cold at night but I stayed
warm, unlike last year when I forgot the sleeping bag and ended up with a
crocheted blanket for cover, you know the ones with the holes in them. I just about froze. No more of that. I got out of the tent, made myself a veggie
burger and made my way around camp, chatting with many friends. Several were just getting on and setting up
camp. Gary showed up in the early
evening and I got my license plate turned in and got my Barkley papers and
bumper sticker. I was now a registered
pre-Barker! Later in the evening the
master map was laid out and I spent my time making sure that I tagged every
ridge that I was supposed to climb and every detail that I could see. Back in my campsite I decided to make a
duplicate map due to the fact that my map carrier was just a tad smaller than
the map surface. I had to fold it over
with part of the map on each side. I
also highlighted the important parts of the written instructions, choosing to
not highlight the Gary Chatter. I
wanted to make sure I knew what to read if I found myself lost in the
dark. Laminated and stored in my
waterproof carrier would assure that nothing would get wet if it rained. I made sure that I had everything packed in
my backpack, all my running clothes laid out, and ready for whatever time Laz
decided to blow the conch shell. Jim
Ball and I decided to have a nighttime backpack ready in case I made it in with
no time to spare, I could grab that ready pack and be gone in short time.
I hit the sack at 9Pm intending to
get as much sleep as I could. I was hoping that he would blow the shell around
4AM for a 5AM start which would give us a full day to run and if possible, a
daylight start on a 2nd loop.
I slept like a baby but woke a few times when I would somehow crawl out
of the sleeping bag and get cold. Then,
sometime in the night, 2 hoot owls decided to hoot in our trees, making many
runners think it was Gary. I knew that
Gary’s conch shell was much louder than a hoot owl and went back to sleep. I heard later that some could not sleep after
that. I woke around 830 am and felt
great.
The wait was on for the blowing of
the shell. About 9AM. Gary was seen
walking down the hill past us with the Little Dog and we were certain that the
shell would not be blown until he got back.
He finally decided to ease our tensions at 10:22 am which meant we had
an 11:22 start, guaranteeing most of us a night time finish on loop one. We all took pics, I wanted one with Laz after
he blew the shell and Keith Knipling shot a great pic of Lax blowing the shell
in my ear. I made my way back down
hill, made sure everything was ready to go, ate another veggie burger and
prepared my mind for the great adventure that lay ahead.
11:22 came quickly. It was still cold and many of us were bundled
extra with stuff to remove as the race started, however, we all knew that it
would get cold on the ridges, especially when darkness would fall. The forecast was 30’s and down in the 20’s at
night.
At precisely 11:22, the traditional
Barkley cigarette was lit and I could tell that Gary Cantrell was as happy as
any of us were. We were off, crawling
under the locked gate and up the jeep road toward Bird Mountain. That first third of a mile was probably the
easiest part of the race. We crossed the
broken creek bridge and made our turn onto the trail. The switchbacks were gentle compared to what was
ahead and we were all single file. This
was the closest we would all be together.
Several went out hard to get in front and several straggled behind. I settled in somewhat in the back with about
10 runners behind me. I was hoping to
follow Hiram and Dusty as best I could until I couldn’t keep up since they do
hills much better than I do and I did.
As we turned onto the Cumberland trail, rounded the big rock, climbed up
on the capstone and crossed the Pillars of Death, I stayed where I needed to
be. At the proper place to turn we
rounded the top of the knoll and headed down toward Fanghorn Forest, a heavily
infested pine thicket. The crowd
separated quickly once we came to open woods and it was pretty much the 3 of
us. We went through Fanghorn and then
another steep drop and were spot on the the coal bench where book one lay
exactly where the instructions said it was.
I remember thinking, “I have my first Barkley Book!” We had been on the course 42 minutes.
We made our turn and headed to the
corner where we dropped violently down Jacque Mate hill. Now that’s a hill!! 2 or 3 times my feet would step on the thick
pile of leaves and go sliding out from under me. More than once I would slide 10 feet forward
or more, never know what might be laying underneath those leaves. I cannot imagine having to come back up
Jacque Mate on loop 3 and in the dark.
There were downed trees that had to be climbed over and some drop-offs
that that to be maneuvered and we moved forward down the 40 to 50% grade. Hiram was a great person to follow because he
led us directly to Phillips creek and the crossing to go up to Jury Ridge. Several other runners, in their haste to run
had gotten lost in this first difficult area .
We started up Jury Ridge and Hiram and Dusty moved ahead of me, not a
lot faster but I could not keep up.
Lesson here: More hill training for the next time I get
in! I moved on anyway, confident that I
would do what I had to do to get where I needed to be going. The grade was steep but instead of what we
had just come down, the route was on a marked trail with switchbacks. I saw runners coming upon me and noticed that
the first one was Rob Youngren who had evidently gotten lost. He passed me and went out of sight, a much
stronger trail runner than I am.
At the top of Jury Ridge, Jodi Isenor
and Edward Sentor came upon me. They had
been lost too and just happened on me at the right time. We turned left to go over toward book 2 and I
was glad to have another Barkley veteran to follow. The decline started fairly easy but decided
to get mean really quick. The grade was 40%
or better and Edward and I stayed on course through the unmarked woods. We ended up a little to the north and came
upon the gas well, turned right and the confluence was in our face with the book
laying on the rock that the instruction said.
Page 2 was torn out and about that time, Frozen Ed and some others came
upon us. Frozen Ed is a beast of a man,
not a big man but a beast nevertheless.
This is his 19th attempt at Barkley and he actually was the
first finisher back when it was a 3 loop course. There is nothing Frozen Ed doesn’t know about
the park. And of course, you have to
read his book, Tales from out there.
As we got the book, we turned right,
as the instructions stated and headed straight up the steepest hill you can
imagine. Straight up. So far that you could not even begin to see
even halfway to the top. Straight,
straight up. No switchbacks. Ed and his group moved in front and overtook
me and I moved on. I found myself having
to stop and lean on my trekking poles quite often. Note:
More hill training! I limited my
stops as much as I could and tried to not stop for long. I think Laz calls this hill-apocalpse. Good name for it. I had never climbed a mile and gained 1800
feet before. Halfway up, there is a 15
foot High wall, which consists of a straight up rock wall and you have to
scamper (Laz says like a squirrel) by grabbing roots and planting your feet on
loose rocks to get up. I made it. Just as I was going up, Jeremy Ebel, who had
been lost came upon me and then moved on past me. I pulled through the rest of hill-apocalapse,
which became somewhat gentler and came out on the North Boundary trail right in
from of the Thoreau sign, exactly where I should be.
I was glad for the temporary relief of
a decently level place to ru , turned left and headed toward Bald Knob and up
the swithchbacks. As I came to the top,
the trail eases right and at that point Leonard Buttslide Martin, Kat Lawson,
and Fred Pilon came out of nowhere. I
was getting all the legends! We went
down the hill via switchbacks. There
were blowdowns, some we could climb over and some we had to go around. With steep grades on each side, sometimes it
was easier to crawl through the mess.
The previous month’s massive snow storms had really taken its toll but
the terrain was nowhere near what I had
expected. Where the ground levels out is
son-of-a-bitch ditch, a massive rip across the ground all the way from the top
to the valley. Laz says we should get a
good running start and see if we could clear it in one leap and I ustacould do
stuff like that, but today was not going to be that day, so we all climbed down in the 10’ ditch and
crossed the 15’ width and found roots and stuff to help us get out. I had been thru this ditch a few times during
my training runs.
The trail then starts back uphill and
past the turn to coffin springs. This is
the first sane place where a person could quit and easily get back to
camp. I am sure that some did. We went on.
The coal ponds were a relief because, once again, here was a place where
it was neither up nor down but the footing left some to be desired. Went past them, through the bushes and down a
small but steep hill and crossed the little creek, then back up a steep climb,
headed toward more switchbacks and up toward the Garden Spot. It was better footing on the candy trails,
although a steep climb. Pretty soon, we
came to the Garden spot and once again, the book was exactly where it was
supposed to be. We grabbed the pages and
headed on toward the first water drop.
Laz has about 50 one gallon milk jugs sitting there on the ground and we
made haste in refilling what we all needed to and moving on.
The jeep road goes a ways, then we
came upon a dirt pile, crossed over it and was instructed to head straight over
the hill. Super steep and brier infested
was the order of the day and down we went.
We stayed on a straight line until we came up some 20’ cliffs and found
our way around them to a cut in the rocks that we passed through and followed
the creek, jumping across the rocks and fallen trees to another jeep road, then
another massive descent with the same characteristics, roots, rocks and fallen
trees. We all fell at least once but my
trekking poles saved me from being on the ground several times. Finally, we came to another jeep road and
turned on it toward Bobcat rock. When
we got to Bobcat, we turned and followed the instructions down a 60% grade,
made slick with the earlier runner’s feet for about ¼ miles and 600 feet of
drop down Leonard’s Buttslide. I have no
idea how this name came to be and even being with Leonard, I never even thought
to ask him. I do know that it has been
called that for a long time and this was Leonard’s 20th Barkley
attempt. The descent is treacherous and
has many places where it would be easy to break a leg, or worse with 3 or 4 brutal
downward pitches until we got to the book, but again, it was in the right
place. We grabbed our pages from Book #4
and immediately headed back Up the Buttslide, all 600’ feet of uphill, topped
out on the jeep road, climbed up Bobcat rock and headed up another 700-800 feet
climb to the top of the mountain where Book #5 was waiting for us.
Once upon a time, when the Barkley
was a little Baby Barkley, I was told that Gary had a difficult time getting
runners to not cut the course in certain areas.
Frozen Ed says that it was his suggestion to put Books in baggies, hide
them in hollow trees, under rocks, and in rusty oil drums and make the runners find them and tear out the page that corresponded to their
race number, proving that they were at that point. Gary seems to enjoy putting the books at the
very top of a hill and maybe the next one at the very extreme bottom making
every runner work as hard as Is possible to go to all points of the course. In addition, the maps are not even laid out
until the evening before, so nobody really knows if he has changed any part of
the course and/or moved a book or two.
This year both were done.
Sometimes the instructions are simple to find the book but sometimes
they are not. One recent description was
this, “Look up that hill. Steep
huh? Go up it a little ways and veer off
to the left. There are 2 trees 12 feet apart. The book is in the hollow of one
of them.” Imagine finding that book in
the middle of the night with fog so thick that your visibility is one
foot. Hah, that is just another part of
this crazy race. Everything is at the
maximum extreme. And we all love it.
clear and we actually had to go around them both, passing the old school bus seat that was beckoning our call. Around the spa and a short jeep road, then another massive hill of only maybe 50’ climb to the top where the book was waiting in its cubbyhole. Pages were ripped out, we took a short break for snacks and moved on. Enthusiasm was high! I had not even been close to being lost.
The descent down Stallion went
straight down the hill, about 1200 or more feet to the highway to Petros, there were several ridges that could be taken
to end up at the right place and Leonard took us exactly down the right
one. Either ridge would have ended up on
the highway but would have required some hiking to get where we should
cross. He showed me a pointer to make
sure I was on the right ridge. I will
remember that but not disclose it here.
Ha! I found that probably the
biggest secret to Barkley, other than being in shape and not being skeered of
the dark and of critters, is to pay attention to details. Details about everything. You are either detail oriented or you are
not, it is good if you are though. Some
ridgelines, even though they are so close together will take you somewhere you
do not want to be, then you are lost and have to bushwhack your way to where
you should be (and it could be night time and foggy beyond belief). Pay attention to what is around you, you
might be running a 2nd loop and need to remember which way to
go. Details. Very important Barkley stuff. The instructions tell you EXACTLY what to do
if only you READ them. That’s a Gary
thing in every one of his races. He is a
brilliant man, even though you might think he is just a crazy old dude that
likes to inflict pain on people. Now,
liking to inflict pain? Oh yes, he
enjoys watching people wallow in things they could have avoided, but is quick
to tell you what you ask him. Then he gets
to laugh at the griping that goes on when it’s their own fault. Brilliant mind. All his races are like this
in their own way.
We descended Stallion and with expert
guidance, Leonard led us exactly to the New River Crossing and up and over Hwy
116, up past the waterfall and past Testicle Specticle, which was not part of
the race this year. Every time Gary adds
a new section, it always adds some distance and some more elevation. They call a full loop 20 miles, year after
year but some have measured it with GPS (not during the race because that is
illegal) and the consensus is that a loop is about 27 miles. Think about that, you are running a 20 miler
and it turns out to be only 7 more miles.
Fun, huh? It’s all like
this. The new section has a tricky
little ridge that is tempting to take but you have to go up it, then back down
into a hollow, then take the next one, which is straight up the side of another
massive hill, then turn and go up to the top of the big hill. The book is halfway up that way and was right
where the instructions said it was. 6 pages
of my race #25 were in my pouch and I felt good. More than halfway through and half the
books. I believe it was about 6pm and we
had been out there 6.5 hours and looked like it would be tough to make the
cutoff. The last part of the race was
the tough part.
At the top was a Tennessee redneck
dumping ground, where, for years the locals had carried their trash and old
appliances, mattresses, and odd junk to throw off the side of the road. I
wonder if they ever think that one day it would look like this? Why not just carry it to the dump? Is it the $14 charge that gets them? Anyway, there was a lot of trash and we went
through it and up to the road that goes to Fodderstock mountain. This road is part of the out and back in the
fall barkley Classic, at least it was last year but the word is that the Fall
Classic will get some major tweaking this year due to a 75% finishing rate last
fall. We went under the gate and into
the woods, bypassing the easier descent down Meth lab Hill. Taking the easier way is strictly prohibited
and will result in disqualification if a runner is caught. One year, 2 runners were disqualified after
finishing 5 loops because they crossed a creek, running on an easier terrain
for ½ mile instead of taking the instructed route. Brutal, but that’s the rules. Gotta follow the rules
The descent down through the woods
toward Petros was much more difficult than Meth Lab and I’m sure Gary was
grinning just thinking about it. The footing was loose with all the leaves on
the ground and trekking poles were extremely handy. We came out at Raw Dog Falls, went down the
creek, crossed over at the right place, observed Danger Dave’s Climbing wall,
which is an 85-90% grade, but immediately decided to go around P ridge trail,
adding more distance but was much safer.
We dropped down into another holler, back up a hill, then into another
one heading toward what looked like a city reservoir and found the rusty oil
drum with Book #7 inside, grabbed our pages and headed back up yet another
heavy climb, past the old truck tires that were just laying there in the woods
and toward the 2nd crossing of Hwy 116. We were pushing it to make sure we got as far
as we could before dark and dark was on its way.
As we pulled ourselves up the hill
and onto the pulloff on the side of Hwy 116, someone had tried to administer
illegal aid to us. We had no idea but
all was blamed on Mike Dobies, that awful man.
Someone had left 3 beers sitting on the side of the road right where we
came up. Now, normally 3 beers on the
side of the road anywhere in east Tennessee would mean that someone had died
and left their beer but this had a
different feel to it. Definitely illegal
aid attempt. Definitely, as the Rainman
would have said. We passed on the lure,
crossed the road at the pig’s head and went up Pig Head Creek, which is no more
than than a little rocky place jutting down the mountain. It got steeper and climbed making several
gentle turns before coming out on the old Prison Mine road. We passed some old mine ruins which were very
cool and at that point Fred decided to take the shortcut back toward coffin
springs and pack it in to camp. Now
there were 3 of us.
Leonard, Kat, and I made it on up to
the intersection with the power lines and the old abandoned Guard Shack. It was pitch dark by now but when we looked
to the right, My and Kat’s breath was
taken by the sheer briar infested climb that lay before us. This was the famous first pitch of Rat Jaw,
the 50% climb to the tallest point in the park, the fire tower. All the way to the top to get a page out of
book 8, then turn around and retrace your steps all the way down to the old
Brushy Mountain Prison. The park people
or maybe prisoners from the nearby Morgan County Correctional Center had cut
all the briars since the Fall Classic but they were all still laying on the
ground, eager to grab anything that came in contact with them. The first pitch was steep for a couple
hundred feet, the next one was steeper but there was an old electric cable
laying there that could be used to pull oneself forward. Somewhere in here, I put a pretty good twist
on my right ankle and immediately though about the difficulty of getting back
down this section. The 3rd
pitch was maybe even steeper but Leonard assured us that it would get better
and it did. Eventually, it got easier
and then we came to the cap rock and found our way around it, heading up toward
the fire tower. As we rounded the
rock, we saw headlights and as we neared each other, we chatted with a runner
who was making his way down. He told us
that Jim Ball and others were up at the top, the only place on the course where
spectators can come to watch. Turns out
that Jim, my wife Terri, and some others were there and were getting ready to
leave due to the fact that I had been expected to be through there 2 hours
earlier. We missed them by less than 30
minutes. When we got to the top and
turned around, the view of Petros and the Prison at the bottom was
spectacular. The view of Terri would
have been more spectacular.
We got water, tore our pages from
book 8 and took a well deserved break. It had taken well over an hour to cover
this last mile. I was secretly dreading
going back down Rat Jaw and was beaten to a frazzle. After several minutes, Kat said that she was
going to quit and the weinie in me took over and I quit too. We thanked Leonard for his guidance and for
letting him slow us down and he went off over the hill to make an attempt to
finish loop one, even though he knew he was still 5 hours from the finish. It was 9:30PM and we had been “out there” for
over 10 hours. I figure that based on
the 27 mile real distance, we made it about ¾ of the way around, or a good
solid 20 miles of Barkley Course with about 10,000 feet of climb and 10,000
feet of descent. I was beaten as hard as
I have ever been beaten in a race, as I should have been, but I felt good. Kat and I headed down the quitter’s road
toward the South Old mac trail, which was a 3 ½ mile downhill trek to the
camp. Somehow, in the dark, we missed
the turn and kept walking until we came to the North Old mac and decided that
we were not going to turn around and back track so we took the 4 ½ mile Old mac
back in.
It was all downhill. As I got started, I felt better. Of course I felt better. I had quit.
I found myself power walking back.
I’m sure Kat was beat up and I kept pulling away from her, stopping to
wait until she caught up, and then pulling away again. It was the middle of the night and a long way
from the camp and I assumed that she wasn’t scared (Barkley is not a race to
enter if you are easily scared), so eventually I went on out of sight. The closer I got to the bottom, the faster I
walked. Why didn’t I feel this good an
hour ago? I got to the bottom, turned on
the jeep road, went behind the bath house and out to the park road, making my
walk of shame up to the yellow gate in the park. On the way up the hill, people were clapping
and congratulating me, thinking I was coming in on loop one in 11 hours, but I
sadly informed them all that I had quit at the fire tower. They still congratulated me and it really
felt good knowing how ultra runners pull together even when you quit. John Fegyversie had walked down to the corner
to use his phone and gave me kudos. John
is a 2 time fun run finisher and a full 5 loop finisher in 2012 the year there
were 3 finishers. John finished 5 loops
of Barkley with only about 19 minutes before his 60 hour cutoff!
I stopped as I passed by my campsite
because I saw Terri warming herself by the fire, and told them all I had
quit. I was hungry so she started the
coleman stove to cook me some food and
then I headed out to the top at the
yellow gate. I handed Gary my pages and
told him I quit at fire tower. He don’t
even want to see your pages unless you are a full looper and under the time
limit. I showed them to him anyway
because I was darn proud of the fact that I had gotten 8 pages. We chatted a minute and he told me I looked
chipper. I told him I always looked
chipper and he said, yeah you are. I
told him it was tough but I had not got lost, was just slow. He jotted me down in his book as the 7th
person to quit, although there were still several out there that were even
behind me and would not make the time cut.
The journalists took pics and I
made my way back down the hill to my campsite and my lovely wife for some warm
hugs and some hot food. The food was
great but the hugs were much better! We
sat around the fire, warmed ourselves, and chatted about my experience.
Terri
probably had 100 places that she would rather be but here she was with me,
frozen and beat up and helping her crazy old hubby fulfil one of his big
dreams. I am forever grateful to have a
great wife. She was a great catch 31
years ago and I’m gonna hang on to her.
Cold weather camping is not her idea of fun but she would have probably
stayed at the campsite if I had a
asked her. I could see that it would be another cold
night and I felt like she wanted to go home to Gallatin, but it was about
midnight and a 3 hour drive home. I
suggested that maybe we both drive back to Rockwood and get a room, spend the
night in a warm bed, then she could drive home the next day. That suggestion was immediately accepted and we got outta dodge. Back at the room, I had a nice long hot bath
and some of the best sleep ever. I did
have a few crazy dream things about being “out there” and we did not wake up
until 9AM.
I drove back to the park and she went
home, hung around for a few hours chatting with friends and watching runners
come in on their 2nd loops.
Runners came in tired and broken.
I knew how they felt, except that they had been out there longer than I
had.
Johnny Adams and I hiked back up to
frozen head to see if we could see anybody come up Rat Jaw. I was surprised at how good I felt. We moved up the hill at a steady power hike,
reached the top, and sat with several others.
We were there a couple hours and only saw Jeremy Ebel trudge up the
hill, having been lost part of the night and still on loop 2. He was in good spirits and had his pretty
Christmas sweater on. We walked up to
the water jugs and chatted with him for a bit.
He was going to be past the time limit and was thinking he might go out
to explore for the full 60 hours. We
would tell Laz that he was safe. He
headed back down Rat Jaw and we started back toward camp.
Got back, packed the tent and other
things, said my goodbyes and headed home.
Great weekend! 10 hours – 2o Barkley miles – 10,000 feet of
climb – 10,000 feet of descent – all estimated except the 10 hours.
Overview: Barkley Marathons is all and more of what I
expected. I did get to spend 4 days in
the woods this year training and attempting to learn the overview of the park. I paid a lot of attention to details and felt
like I could not have gotten lost, at least in the daytime. I had read every previous finisher’s race
report that I could and took parts of all of them as my own tools. There are some good informational race
reports out there. Barkley was brutal,
but really not as brutal as I had expected. I had only been on the trails during training
but had no idea of the seriousness off the off-trail stuff. These ups and downs are really mean! I did take a bad fall going down toward the 2nd
book and somehow banged my left forearm on a big rock which left a real nasty
length of arm bruise on that forearm. I had a real Barkley Badge for 2 solid
weeks. The ridiculous climbs and
descents will sap your energy very fast.
You just have to keep moving and keep your stops at minimum time. The more you stop, the harder it is to start
back and easier it is to stop the next time.
What did I do right? I had most of the stuff I needed, really too
much, but I really didn’t carry too much in my pack. My Bushwhacker pants were the bomb (Rail
Rider). The impenetrable patches on the shins, back of legs, and butt left me
with zero brier scratches, even though I took the most direct routes through
all the briars. When I slid down hills
on my butt, I did not get stuck. Best
pair of long pants ever, only weighing 12 oz.
Trekking poles are a necessity.
Some laugh and snicker at those of who use poles and I respect those who
do not, but those things were a lifesaver.
Only 5 oz too. I cannot imagine
picking up a tree trunk to help me down a hill and it snapping right when I
needed its support the most. I purchased
a good map holder that I saw a few runners have last year, only problem was
that the map was about 2 inches larger than the holder, quickly solved by
making 2 maps, folding in half and putting them back to back in the clear
holder. All I had to do was turn it over
before Buttslide and beyond. I Also
carried my written directions in it on the opposite side. There was Zero fumbling with the map. I had the right clothes on, not too much, not
too little. It got cold on the ridges,
especially at night but adding a thin shell rain jacket was the trick and kept
the wind out. I had the perfect
shoes. I had experimented with Hoka the
last year after failed trysts with Salomon and others and found that the Mafate
fit my foot perfectly with a hollowed out footbed where the foot did not slide
ever. The top came together snugly
enough to hold tight against the ankle, not requiring gaiters. I never had to stop and remove trash from the
shoe and even though a lot of the terrain is on sidling ground, I had zero
blisters or even hot spots. Really wide
foot bottom for less ankle turns and not slick when I stepped on wet
rocks. Best of all, your foot is 2
inches off the ground, so you can wade 2” and not get wet feet but if you do,
they dry almost immediately. Now that’s
a shoe! My Inov8 pack was really a bit
too big (it held everything I needed on solo Volstate runs) but that don’t mean
you have to fill it up. I carried what I
needed and had adequate reachable spaces to carry snacks, compass, reading
glasses and a few other items. I started
with the 80 bladder and 2 empty 20 oz bottles, filling them at the Garden Spot
water stop when my bladder was about ½ full.
The bottles carry on the chest, keeping my hands free. I got
plenty of sleep the couple of nights before which is always good. And most of all, I let my beard grow out
which gave me that “grizzled” look. A
grizzled look can be good in a grizzled race like Barkley.
What did I do wrong? I was not trained nearly enough, matter of
fact, nobody probably ever trains near enough.
Not even close to enough hill work.
I read that Brett Maune ran 50,000 feet of hills some weeks in his training. I did get most of what I had on the 25-30%
dreadmill at the Y and without that, I would have been doomed. I took way too many days off, blaming it on
the cold, the snow, being tired, whatever.
I should have run way more miles than I did. I really did not start
training at all until January, was still suffering through the chemo all fall
and into December. A person wanting to
do well at Barkley should Barkley train always.
But then.. I heard a couple folks talk about almost no training at
all. Without training, I would not have been here and
given my spot up to someone else who did train. I had the wrong gloves. Brown jersey gloves with a pair of Wells
Lamonts over them and my fingers got real cold, that’s a chemo thing. I did not push when I got tired at the end
when I quit. I could have gone on. Of course I could have. Should not have been a weinie and quit. It was way too easy to pack it in at the
Fire Tower.
Will I do Barkley again? Gary??????
I certainly hope I am given another chance. I realize that Barkley is a victim of its own
success and getting back in is never a guarantee and an impossibility for
some. Travel distances make it extremely
costly for some, but for me, it’s a matter of 163 mile drive, which is a
blessing. However, that don’t guarantee
anything except for Frozen Head being close.
I like to think that in spite of what I had happen to me last year with
2 cancer surgeries, chemo, and recovery, might give me a dollop of weight on the
list. Even though I quit, I feel like I
performed decently well, finding 8 books and not getting lost. Barkley is almost an addiction, the thoughts
of being “out there” surface at odd times during my work day now. Yes, of course I want to run it again and I
will spend considerably more time this year after my April 27th
Liver resection and recovery training for the fall races and another Barkley
attempt if fate happens to smile on me
with a condolence letter next January.
What did I learn? I’m a little bit tougher than I thought I
was. I am more detail oriented than I
thought I was. I came to the camp with almost
no orienteering training and learned how to do what I needed to do in 4 – 5
minute training sessions with Jim Ball.
I had him show me the same exact thing 4 times with time apart to think
about it. I learned that I am just a
little bit crazier about crazy races than I was before touched the yellow gate
on the Fool’s weekend.
