This story was written by my father, Lucien Rhodes. It is about the experience he shared with my mother Nancy as first time BayTrailrunners aid station volunteers at the 2011 North Face Endurance Challenge Championship held in the Marin Headlands.
Lucien Rhodes
Hello Friends and Family,
Recently Nancy and I had an exciting experience I thought worth sharing
in a story.
On Saturday December 3, we were volunteers at the Endurance Challenge
Ultramarathon put on annually by North Face and Goretex in the Marin
Headlands in the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. Nancy and I were
part of a crew maintaining an aid station for marathoners running in
both the 50 mile Open Trail Ultramarathon and the only slightly less
challenging 30 mile Open Trail Marathon.
We got this assignment from Rob Rhodes. As you know, Rob is himself an
accomplished marathoner and, indeed, he ran that Saturday in the 50K
event. Rob is also founder and editor of BayTrailrunners, a
focal point for open trail runners throughout the Bay area.
This year Rob's credentials attracted the attention of the North Face
folks and he was invited to organize and maintain an aid station at the
race on a try out basis with the understanding that if all went well he
would be invited back the next year. Rob was highly motivated to do a
good job because such an association with North Face is well respected
by the marathoner community. And given this motivation wouldn't you know
Rob would think of two people who he knew would never let him down.
Right . . . Mom and Pops.
Since we are a bit past our own ultramarathon prime, Mom and Pops
naturally had reservations that the assignment might prove too much. On
the other hand, there was that allure of hanging out for a day in the
Marin Headlands, that spectacular, mind-blowing patch of protected open
space hard by the San Francisco Bay, the Golden Gate Bridge and San
Francisco itself. We also calmed down a lot after Rob told us there
would also be some 12 other volunteers in two shifts at his aid station
all pitching in under the direction of Rob's friend and fellow runner,
Carl, who would act as crew chief.
The BayTrailrunners aid station was more inland in a sheltered valley
but with Stinson Beach just over the next rise. Most of the time, this
spot is complete open country just the dirt hiking trails and forests
and meadow grasses and the wind from the sea. But on this day, there was
tremendous energy and activity concentrated into a tight knot of runners
and spectators in and around our aid station. Cars lined both sides of
the road for a couple of miles approaching the aid station area and the
dirt parking lot there was full to bursting and the portapotties were
busy. It was Max Yasgur's farm becoming Woodstock. That was the feeling.
Intense energy and excitement.
Nancy and I had to get to work right away.
But let me pause to explain a few of the extraordinary facts about what
was actually going on. Two races were underway at the same time both the
50 miler and the 30 miler. They had different start times. And here's my
first incredible fact . . . the 50 mile Ultramarathon began in the pitch
dark at 5 a.m. and the runners had to wear headlamps. You can see this
start in the dark by
following this link to a wonderful video of the
50 miler that shows the course, conditions, and runners very well. The
video is especially cool because it opens with a blank dark screen and
what appears to be only a tiny pin prick of light in the upper right
hand corner of the frame. And you can't figure out for a while what's
going on but gradually the light grows and differentiates itself and you
realize you're looking at individual runners and that they're wearing
headlamps. At this point a question can strike you very forcefully as it did me and
one that caused me to puzzle over it throughout the whole day. You will
ask yourself . . . what kind of people are these people!?
I mean many people I know regard DRIVING 50 miles in a car as too far,
taking too much time, and a distinct inconvenience all around. But here
we have people who want to RUN for 50 miles starting out when they can
barely see where they're going. And another incredible fact . . . you
are given 14 hours to complete the 50 mile Ultramarathon which means
that you may even finish the race in total darkness again wearing a
headlamps. Which is indeed what happened and Nancy and I were there to
see it because we had to stay at our station until the last runner
passed. But consider what I'm saying . . . you could be running for 14
hours up and down hills in the wilderness. At the other extreme, it's
equally amazing to realize that the Ultramarathoner elite runners in
this race would finish their 50 miles in roughly 6 hours.
Somewhere in all this I think there a lessons for us all about
persistence and dedication and human endurance and what we're capable of
achieving if we push ourselves. Anyway, as I say, I think there are
lessons but I don't want to get too heavy handed and I myself am a slow
learner.
The BayTrailrunners aid station was located exactly 5.7 miles from the
finish line. We were set up on 3 folding picnic tables and one wood
table. The race course brought runners right alongside the tables but
first they had to cross over an electronic sensor on the ground that
would record their race identification number letting the race chiefs
know these runners had been accounted for and weren't still out there on
the course lost in the hills. Not too far away for our tables, Rob had
put up a large BayTrailrunners Banner.
Nancy and I were assigned to manage one of the tables. It was a dieter's
nightmare but a runner's delight. We had M&M chocolate candies, potato
chips, pretzels, grape flavored gel candies, boiled potato chunks to be
dipped in an open bowl of raw salt, a large serving tray of peanut
butter and jelly sandwiches, and a lot of other quick energy stuff. The
next table in the line offered various soft drinks like Mountain Dew and
Gatorade and the final folding table had the crucial water fill-up
supply. On the dirt access road just behind us there was a paramedic
emergency truck and 2 paramedics from Marin and Jeff, an affable
"roadie" from North Face, who helped us keep things organized.
Just as we arrived around 11:30a.m, the first shift of volunteers, who
had arrived at the race site at 4:30a.m., was getting off duty and they
were tired. So Nancy and I jumped right in. Our orders were to keep our
table full of goodies, tell runners how far they had left to run, point
them in the right direction, describe the course ahead, and call in
paramedics or North Face people if needed.
As the day progressed Nancy and I sorted out our specialties. She proved
particularly good at making P&J sandwiches and keeping the tabletop
organized and presentable even after I had managed to mess up the chips
and M&M's. In turn I discovered I had skill at a task I had not known
was an essential part of marathon events. This is the preparation of
warm chicken broth. Many, many runners said they wanted to drink the
broth because it was salty and tasty and warm. On the wood picnic table,
I had set a kettle on top of a small cookstove burner powered by a
propane bottle. I'd pour some ready made chicken broth into my kettle,
get it nice a warm, and hurry back to my post to laddle out the broth in
paper cups for runners. It was very popular stuff and it was tough
keeping up with the crowd so for most of the afternoon I was quick back
and forth from propane burner to laddle.
Sometimes a group of runners came by in a bunch but other times in
onesies and twosies. But the table always had some business and Nancy
and I were on our feet all through the long day. It was pleasant out
there, though, with the sun out full yet cool and dry and the breeze
carrying the distinctive wilderness signature of the Headlands and the
Bay. And occasionally the afternoon offered entertaining surprises such
as watching a runner stop near the station to dress up in a colorful
Captain America costume so he could finish the race in style.
Even more memorable, though, was the following moment. At one point
about mid-afternnon, I heard someone behind me saying how much he wanted
to thank us volunteers for our work and I turned around to meet the
speaker. There was this good looking young guy about 20 years old, tall,
blond haired and lean. And there he was thanking Nancy and another girl
Nancy had just met for being volunteers and shaking their hands. But it
appeared Nancy and the other girl had lost the power of speech and
instead were just looking up at this young man adoringly as if
overwhelmed by his good looks and manner. I haven't seen Nancy look like
that since she first met me 47 years ago. I was getting a little jealous
and finally had to break the spell and introduce myself to thank him in
turn and to ask him if there was anything I could do for him. He
explained that he had lost his windbreaker and wondered if anybody might
have turned it in. We had a cardboard box that served as our lost and
found department and amazingly there was his windbreaker. That made him
even happier and he started thanking us all over again. Then I think
Nancy asked him which race he was in and how he had done. He paused for
a moment and told her that he was in the 50 mile Ultra and that he had
finished 2nd. With that, a respectful silence settled on all us
volunteers because we understood then that we were now talking with an
extraordinary human being. Then the other girl asked him if this was his
first race. He paused for a longer moment this time because I think he
realized we did not know who he was. "No, not my first," he said
politely. "I've been in others before this." So it was, as we were to
learn later, that we had just met Dakota Jones, one of the most famous
and successful Ultramarathoners in the country. And let me ask you, how
is it that someone gets to be that talented, that handsome, that young
and also gets a name like Dakota Jones!
Given the drama of our Dakota Jones encounter you might expect the rest
of the day to merely tapered off peacefully. But not this day. In fact,
there was another high voltage moment in store for us.
Twilight was coming on and there was a chill in the air for jackets and
sweaters. Fewer and fewer runners were passing the aid station and many
of those that did looked completely exhausted yet still pushed on for
the glory of it all. Then, the sky got darker still. Early night. Soon
no runners showing up at all. The volunteers, now joined by Rob Rhodes,
were unconsciously grouping closer together as we packed up supplies
getting ready to go home. But then Carl's walkie talkie handset started
crackling with messages from the race command post somewhere saying that
there were still two runners out on the course and giving their numbers.
Have they passed through yet? Have you seen them? The wait began.
Now completely dark. The volunteers huddled together with electric camp
lamps and flashlights and looked out toward the hills. Then we heard
someone calling out to us in this darkness from a nearby trail. A
volunteer turned on his car headlights. It was a hiker coming in off a
trail. He came up to us asking, "Have you heard about the mountain lion?
Yeah, someone said they saw a mountain lion. Could've been a bobcat
though. Anyways, it was a big cat. You guys gotta watch out." And he
wandered off to his car somewhere. We all looked at each other. And
wouldn't you know that at that exact moment and just about
simultaneously we heard fairly close by the bark of a dog, the whinny of
a horse, and the howl of a coyote. I kid you not.
Then not a moment too soon we all saw two tiny, tiny lights out there in
the darkness bobbing up and down obviously coming down the distant hill.
It was the two missing runners and on they came to the aid station
accompanied by understandably enthusiastic applause because now we could
head for home.
But wait . . .
The walkie talkie radio crackled again. "'The Sweeper' is still out on
the trail. Wait for 'The Sweeper'."
I confess this was an unsettling, and vaguely ominous, development for a
marathon volunteer newbie such as yours truly. First, I had never heard
the term used before and did not know what it meant until Rob Rhodes
explained that a Sweeper is a race volunteer who runs the course way
behind everybody else expressly to make sure that no one else is out
there and in trouble. Even so, I still wasn't entirely comfortable
because to me 'Sweeper' kept sounding like "Reaper" as in "Grim Reaper"
and there we were in the pitch dark waiting for it. Plus, let's not
forget about the Mountain Lion. You will understand that the thought did
cross my mind that there might very well be something wrong with this
picture?
But, oh happy day, all ended well. The Sweeper showed up in short order.
The North Face roadies loaded up the supplies for the races on Sunday.
The paramedics left to save lives somewhere else. And Lucien and Nancy
drove back to their bungalow there to get in their jammies for a good
night's sleep.
Finally, and in closing, I can tell you with some satisfaction that Rob
Rhodes and his BayTrailrunners were indeed invited back for next year's
Endurance Challenge.
Happy Holidays and Happy New Year,
Lucien
