"Thank you Buzzards for a really nice time.

This was a no-fee, pack your own aid to the 15 mile point aid station (the only one) marathon put on by some folks associated with the Lancaster Running Club, in particular, they blame a guy named Harry Smith, but no one is really supposed to know this event actually occurs. The problem is, it's "advertised" on the web, with a link off the VHTRC site, so any crazy trail runner in the world browsing the Web may find out about it. I figure this will be a nice training run on some new trail in PA, so I send out an e-mail to Harry who cordially invites us to attend, and sends specific directions, including a detailed course turn sheet.

Margie and I get started at just after 5 am to pick-up Hunt at the Hockessin Texaco. We wait untill 5:35 a.m., but Hunt doesn't show, so we head out. We wanted to meet Harry outside of Lancaster by 6:45 a.m. so we could follow the carpool to the start. We wound up getting there almost exactly on-time.

I think I had a similar experience to Larry's at the B&A ... you know, that little voice in the head all day. I kept thinking "Hunt must have read a topo chart. He knew something we didn't". 35 F, 35 MPH wind gust, and no one runs this thing who is under 35 years old (since they couldn't have killed enough brain cells yet).

To make a long story short, we wound up doing five climbs. The word "hill" has a new meaning. We spent about 6:20 on trail. We met some really nice people, saw some beautiful scenery, and in general, had a really great time. However, this weren't no training run. I hope to recover in the next four weeks before Umstead.

We followed the carpool, must have been eight or ten cars, through Hershey to a Holiday Inn off I-81, where we picked up another eight or so cars, and wound-up at the start about 7:50 am. At this point there were about 40 cars in a small parking lot somewhere in the woods northeast of Harrisburg. About 60 runners started, which was many more than I expected - I was thinking this was going to be like one of the Dawgs weekend runs. However, no one is supposed to take a head count, otherwise, if someone gets lost or killed, then the data might be incriminating. Harry gave us some final instructions, and then we were off. I'm wearing a backpack containing a 2 L bottle of Gatorade, six Cliff bars, and carrying my 20 oz. bottle. I'm wearing my compression shorts, thinking my legs will warm up, but I look around and no one is wearing shorts ... perhaps this was a mistake.

As we start running, I realize that this backpack thing ain't going to be so good since it was bouncing around, so I take it off and hand carry it. Margie and I are hanging in the back of the pack, but we sort of want to keep up so we don't get lost. We get to the first climb, called Second Mountain, within minutes after the start. We learn that the so-called pipeline is the firebreak up the mountain and down the other side. Running down the mountain was kind of fun. Sort of like going down a 500-foot roller-coaster. We get to the bottom of the mountain in about 40 minutes after the start. This gives you some idea of how long it takes to do one of the "hills" on this course. We hear that there are five climbs, so I figure climb one is out of the way. At the bottom of the mountain, we enter a single track trail where some dude passes me and says "you going to carry that backpack all the way?" Everyone else is wearing Camelbacks or multi-bottle fanny pack things. Yeah, I know, I'm a stupid rookie at these sort of events.

We get to the creek crossing where there is a line waiting to do the cable bridge. It looks like it is about 8 to 10 feet above a rather shallow creek, and two or three people are on the thing sort of shaking around. Margie says "I can't do that", and I'm thinking "it does look pretty scary", so we decide to wade the creek even though it is really cold. Less likely to die of cold feet than a broken neck.

We get across the creek and start down the so-called old logging road. At this point we are running with Roxanne. We figure she is in the club and must know what she is doing. However, she informs us that she has never run the event, and is just following trail like we are. The trail contained all sorts of fallen trees and briars. It reminded me of the east side of the WCC where the beavers have taken down the trees and there are briars everywhere. I'm thinking "must have been a logging road back in 1820". Roxanne says "Those guys are crazy. They like to blaze new trail". As the briars are shredding my legs, that little voice in my head reminds me of one of those Dawgs that likes to blaze trail. At one point, I hear Margie laughing as I'm in pain running with a big "rose bush" attached to my leg. As I look down and see all the blood running down my legs, I tell Margie "Hey, if there is no blood, then it ain't a trail run". We finally get to the end of the thing as we cross a nice road. Roxanne says "we could have taken that road all the way to this point". I'm thinking, ok, these guys are not funny. We start down the road until we see the red ribbon markers point us towards the right, however, just about 50 yards ahead, we see runners coming out of the woods. Roxanne says, "we could just go up there and by-pass this loop". Well, that would be cheating, so we head down another primitive trail until we get to a beautiful creek. This is use-your-hands trail running that reminds me of Conestoga ... a beautiful view of a mountain stream.

We get back to the gravel road and run until we start climb number two - a steep rocky trail that heads up the side of another mountain (I think it's called Stony Mountain). The orange blazed steep section is called Marcia's Madness. This was the most difficult climb I've even done in my short life as a trail runner (at least until I got to the next two climbs). Up, and up, and up some more. Beautiful views. We eventually got to the top and started running on the ridge on a nice dirt road. Margie was taking off as I was trying to get the oxygen back into my legs. Eventually, my legs came around. After a couple of miles of nice, relatively flat running on the ridge, we take a turn across a bolder field and head up the third climb. We are about three hours into the thing (about 11 or 12 miles), and feeling pretty good, thinking "this is some really beautiful trail". We get to the top of Stony Mountain and catch the Appalachian Trail. I'm thinking, ok, I've run the AT before at JFK, so here we go on the rocks. This section of the AT was even rockier than the South Mountain section at JFK. The trail was gradually sloped downhill. At one point, I decide to take a pit stop. At this point, there was a really sloppy section of mud and flowing water down the side of the mountain. I'm thinking "I'd better be careful where I step". First step and I'm in almost over my calf in mud ... almost sucked my shoe off. As I pull my leg out, I'm thinking, "nature got me back by sh!#& on me". Margie catches up to me at this point just in time to see me with orangish mud all over my foot ... I love to make Margie laugh so much on these trail runs. Margie runs the rocky section of the AT like a pro, as I'm plodding behind with mud all over my foot, so I stop at another stream and wash some of the mud off. We eventually get near the bottom of the mountain where a runner has his water bottle out and is getting water out of a hole in the ground. Margie says, "hey, is this where we refill our water bottles". I'm looking at this hole, filled with leaves, thinking "I ain't filling my water bottle there. Looks like a good place to wash off my foot". The guy says, "yes, you can get water here, or at the aid station just a quarter a mile ahead". Ok, dude, you trying to make like Daniel Boone and not use the aid station. I'll get some bottled water, thank you.

We get to the 15 mile point aid station in about four hours from the start. I change my socks, clean the debris out of my shoes, and my feet feel a lot better. We refill our water bottles and eat some homemade rice crispy treats. We meet a couple of other runners Bill and Angsleigh (probably misspelled). Angsleigh is a race director for the Massanutten Mountain 100 and eventually tries to recruit Margie to work an aid station at his race.

After the aid station, there is about a mile of flat before climb number four. As we start up this climb, Margie says "I'm going to find a walking stick". So I decide on a nice big sturdy stick. After a few paces, I'm thinking, this stick is too heavy, so I pick up another smaller stick. This stick is rotten, so I promptly fall on my face as it shatters (did I say I liked to make Margie laugh). This was the most difficult climb of the day (did I say that already?). "Are we there yet, are we there yet?" We followed Bill and Angsleigh up the steepest section. They talked about various runs, like Vermont, etc. as we proceed up the climb like snails. I'm thinking "this gives a whole new meaning to pace ... 40 minutes per mile". My legs are just wiped out as we get to the top. Margie takes off on the dirt road that runs the ridge. I again struggle to get my legs going. The road starts gradually going downhill, then eventually it is pretty steep. This was the longest downhill I've ever run. It must have been three or four miles long. My quads were just getting pounded, as we are heading downhill at what felt like 8-minute mile pace. We are following a guy named Wayne at this point. After about a 1/2 hour of downhill running we get to the bottom of the mountain, and I look ahead and can see the pipeline up and over Second Mountain to the finish line. I see Wayne head down towards the pipeline, so I follow him. Margie yells at me, "hey, we are going the wrong way. We are supposed to take a left". I'm thinking "Margie, we just have to do climb number five, and then we are home free". It eventually occurs to me that we have to cross the creek again, so Margie is correct about missing the turn, so we go back to the cable bridge. At this point, we are running with Bill and Angsleigh, and they get on the cable bridge, so we get our confidence to try it (or just don't want to look like rookie chickens). Margie looked like a pro scampering across the cable. Being that I'm just a little bit heavier, the cable is a little shaky, but I make it across without falling.

The last climb over Second Mountain seemed like it took a half hour. We get to the finish line where we have our picture taken. One of the guys says "hey, here are those two from Delaware. How did you flatlanders like the course? We didn't realize you had an ultra-running club in Delaware". Margie says "we aren't really from an ultra-running club." The guys says "you are now". Yep, this was something "beyond the marathon."

--Carl

Postscript from Margie:

"The guy's name is Anstr Davidson, webmaster of VHTRC. Bill is a local. I loved this course...and Carl is great company to run with. Harry Smith is a super friendly guy that reminds me a lot of David Horton.

Amazing...he and his friends checked the course with red and blue ribbons the day before then ran it again the next day as sweepers or headcounters....I guess he knows all the cars in the parking lot and most of the runners on course. He had to. It makes me want to relocate to the mountains when I retire... Beautiful trail right up the street. Come on HAT!!!"

--Margie