The Barkley Fall Classic
Embracing an Epic Fail
"It is difficult to free fools from the chains they revere." -- Voltaire
Base Camp Wartburg
(The smile of a man who has no idea for what awaits.)
I arrived in Wartburg, TN and made my way to the American Legion building for packet pickup, feeling confident in my training for this adventure. After all, I had run over Green Mountain, logged many miles, and had several runs over Cecil Ashburn. Surely that would serve me well for this race. Right? Wrong.
Nothing in my experience prepared me for Frozen Head. Nothing. I remember talking to DeWayne Satterfield after the Firecracker 5K on July 4th. When he found out I was running the BFC, he laughed and said, "I can't wait to hear what you think of Rat Jaw." I laughed and said, "I'll let you know."
The Start
I arrived at the starting line and quickly several Huntsville (and vicinity) runners started to gather. As I recall, we were talking about everything other than the race. Cary Long was enthralled with
Dr. Robert Youngren's short sleeve shirt. It looked like something that came off of the set of Sanford and Son; however Dr. Youngren said he liked the ability to unbutton his shirt to stay cool. The thought of this made Cary swoon.
When Laz lit his cigarette the race started, and we were off. The first stretch was down a paved road, past the yellow gate and then we veered off onto Old Mac, or Mac something. Anyway it was a trail much like you would find on Monte Sano, so I was right at home. The sun had yet to rise, but there was enough light to run on the trail. However, the race soon became like another Tennessee 50K -- Stump Jump. Conga lines were forming. I didn't get too concerned because I figured we were all in the same situation.
Now you're going to have to forgive me, because I didn't know where the hell I was most of the time during this race, but the next thing I recall I was running down this really pristine trail that had shards of sunlight streaming through the trees. David Nast caught up with me and said I had a really good pace going. So, I had that going for me.
Then, the next thing I know, I was running/sliding/falling down Testicle Spectacle towards a little white church. At some point, I did a slow motion tumble over a log, and of course David Nast was there to laugh at me. That's what runners do. It was along this stretch that I saw Dr. Robert Youngren approaching me in the opposite direction, coming back from the church. Now, Dr. Youngren and his wife Kathy are the new parents of a beautiful baby girl. So as Rob approached, I yelled, "Hey Pop!" At that moment, Rob laughed (I guess), took his eyes off the trail and fell ass backwards into a stream -- which I'm sure was chock full of raccoon fecal matter. With a smile on his face, I heard him blame me for his fall, and as any good trail runner would do, I just kept running (or crawling). Also, I saw Dana Overton, Martin Schneekloth, DeWayne Satterfield and others coming up.
So after getting my bib punched at the church, I started the climb back up Testicle. Actually, the ascent was a lot better than the descent and I was feeling pretty good about my prospects.
The Start
I arrived at the starting line and quickly several Huntsville (and vicinity) runners started to gather. As I recall, we were talking about everything other than the race. Cary Long was enthralled with
Dr. Robert Youngren's short sleeve shirt. It looked like something that came off of the set of Sanford and Son; however Dr. Youngren said he liked the ability to unbutton his shirt to stay cool. The thought of this made Cary swoon.
When Laz lit his cigarette the race started, and we were off. The first stretch was down a paved road, past the yellow gate and then we veered off onto Old Mac, or Mac something. Anyway it was a trail much like you would find on Monte Sano, so I was right at home. The sun had yet to rise, but there was enough light to run on the trail. However, the race soon became like another Tennessee 50K -- Stump Jump. Conga lines were forming. I didn't get too concerned because I figured we were all in the same situation.
Now you're going to have to forgive me, because I didn't know where the hell I was most of the time during this race, but the next thing I recall I was running down this really pristine trail that had shards of sunlight streaming through the trees. David Nast caught up with me and said I had a really good pace going. So, I had that going for me.
Then, the next thing I know, I was running/sliding/falling down Testicle Spectacle towards a little white church. At some point, I did a slow motion tumble over a log, and of course David Nast was there to laugh at me. That's what runners do. It was along this stretch that I saw Dr. Robert Youngren approaching me in the opposite direction, coming back from the church. Now, Dr. Youngren and his wife Kathy are the new parents of a beautiful baby girl. So as Rob approached, I yelled, "Hey Pop!" At that moment, Rob laughed (I guess), took his eyes off the trail and fell ass backwards into a stream -- which I'm sure was chock full of raccoon fecal matter. With a smile on his face, I heard him blame me for his fall, and as any good trail runner would do, I just kept running (or crawling). Also, I saw Dana Overton, Martin Schneekloth, DeWayne Satterfield and others coming up.
So after getting my bib punched at the church, I started the climb back up Testicle. Actually, the ascent was a lot better than the descent and I was feeling pretty good about my prospects.
(making my way up a kinder section of testicle spectacle)
(Topping out on TS)
One's reward for making it to the top of TS, is to descend down Meth Lab Hill. It is a sharp descent and most of my time was either crab walking, sliding on my butt, or occasionally being able to stand upright.
(Saying a prayer and checking my hose before descending Meth Lab. She was checking her hose too.)
After getting down to the bottom of Meth Lab, we hit a nice and welcomed runnable trail that emptied out on a road that took us over to the Brushy Mountain State prison. We ran through some Walking Dead like cell blocks, out into the prison yard, climbed a ladder up and over a wall, then went under the prison to a dark tunnel with running water under our feet. (You're more than welcome to diagram that last sentence.) I had my headlamp in my pocket, and held it in my hand as this other dude and I made our way out. He thanked me.
(Escaping Brushy Mountain Prison)
As we approached Rat Jaw, I heard some guy say we had 30 minutes to get to the top, climb the Fire Tower and get our bib punched. That sounded doable.
The first several yards of Rat Jaw were not bad at all. I was thinking this thing is overrated. Testicle was tougher than this. That mirage soon disappeared into a god awful slog up the side of this mountain. I made it to a small clearing and there was this guy who was talking to a volunteer and he said he couldn't go back down, and couldn't go up. The volunteer told him the Park Rangers could get him off from this point, but they might not be happy. I decided at that point, that my Barkley "win" would just be to make to the top of Rat Jaw.
To appreciate Rat Jaw is to understand there are no switchbacks, just a straight up climb. At times you are reduced to crawling. While Sword, an electrolyte drink, had served me well to this point, it had gone warm in my hydration pack. Every sip simply came back up. I threw up three times and laid down a couple of times to cool down and regroup. For those that finished this thing, I know this sounds sad.
Long story short, I finally made it to the top of Rat Jaw. Later I took a count of my yellow jacket stings. I had 24. I knew I was getting stung, but after a while I just didn't seem to care. In fact at one point a yellow jacket sat down on my knee, and said, "Hey friend, since you are moving so slow, and are pretty much a sitting duck, do you mind if me and a few of my buds sting the hell out of you?" I was feeling pretty generous, so I said, "Have at it."
(An anonymous young lady doing a good job of summing up Rat Jaw - stock photo)
The Park Rangers at the top of Rat Jaw were great. They let me lay down in their John Deere Gator while we waited on a couple of other runners to crest the top of Rat Jaw.
I heard them talking about the Tennessee / Florida game. I confessed that I was an Alabama fan, and if the they wanted to dig a hole and bury me here, that would be fine. They laughed and said they didn't want to pollute their park with an Alabama fan. We all laughed at that one. But I noticed they were packing Glocks, so I didn't revisit the offer.
After we started down the hill, in the ride of shame, we picked up a young lady from Australia at an aid station. She said her quads locked up and she was done. We had a nice conversation going down. She was from Sydney, and said to get any kind of elevation training, she and her friends had to drive (on the wrong side of the road) over an hour to get to some hills. She said, they just ran them up and down. The Park Ranger that was driving us down, said he wanted to run the BFC next year. My Australian friend replied that he will gain a whole new perspective of his park -- mostly on his hands and knees, and butt. He laughed.
We continued chatting after we got dropped off, and I found out she was staying in Oak Ridge. I suggested she try Outback Steakhouse for dinner.
Conclusion
I'm not going back. I'm in awe of finishers like Liz Canty, Dana Overton, Martin Schneekloth, Dr. Rob "Pop" Youngren, Jay Crosby, Jeff Deaton and David Thurman -- getting the Croix de Barque on his third attempt.
The marathon finishers deserve a lot of praise as well. That's a hell of an accomplishment in its own right.
Laz described the Barkley Fall Classic as a wilderness run, and it surely is.
After we started down the hill, in the ride of shame, we picked up a young lady from Australia at an aid station. She said her quads locked up and she was done. We had a nice conversation going down. She was from Sydney, and said to get any kind of elevation training, she and her friends had to drive (on the wrong side of the road) over an hour to get to some hills. She said, they just ran them up and down. The Park Ranger that was driving us down, said he wanted to run the BFC next year. My Australian friend replied that he will gain a whole new perspective of his park -- mostly on his hands and knees, and butt. He laughed.
We continued chatting after we got dropped off, and I found out she was staying in Oak Ridge. I suggested she try Outback Steakhouse for dinner.
Conclusion
I'm not going back. I'm in awe of finishers like Liz Canty, Dana Overton, Martin Schneekloth, Dr. Rob "Pop" Youngren, Jay Crosby, Jeff Deaton and David Thurman -- getting the Croix de Barque on his third attempt.
The marathon finishers deserve a lot of praise as well. That's a hell of an accomplishment in its own right.
Laz described the Barkley Fall Classic as a wilderness run, and it surely is.
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