From owner-ultra@caligari.Dartmouth.EDU Tue Aug 26 13:17:41 1997 From: Nikki Robinson Date: Tue, 26 Aug 97 15:17:13 -0500 To: ius-l@american.edu, ultra@caligari.dartmouth.edu Subject: Mt. Rushmore 100: The First Day - part 1 (long) Paha Sapa: The Spirit of the Place Uplifts Me. -------------------------------------------------------------------- "Then the day-break star came slowly, very beautiful and still; and all around it there were clouds of baby faces smiling at me, the faces of the people not yet born. The stars about them now were beautiful with many colors, and beneath these there were heads of men and women moving around, and birds were singing somewhere yonder and there were horses nickering and blowing as they do when they are happy, and somewhere deer were whistling and there were bison mooing too." (from "Black Elk Speaks" by John Neihardt) -------------------------------------------------------------------- Oh, I love the morning! I've always been a morning person. So when the alarm went off to begin my day, my first day, running the Mount Rushmore trail 100 mile race, I thought "*&^*%#!" See, I had gone to bed at midnight, and the alarm went off at 2 am. I did not exactly feel refreshed after two hours of (restless) sleep. I cursed myself for not getting stuff together sooner (hence the scramble until midnight to pack the ice chest with food and SUCCEED! and Metabolol; and to check the toolbox supplies of various medical aids and devices; and to test flashlights; and to pack and repack shoes and clothes; and to draw my four-color tattoo on duct tape [pine trees, creeks, fish, and raspberries surrounding the words "Paha Sapa 100"]). This foul mood lasted for about two minutes, then I was psyched! It's a great day to play two! My sister and I headed off in my parents' station wagon for the start of the race in Custer State Park -- about an hour's drive from the family cabin. We first drove into Rapid City and picked up Rob Finley, a family friend who was doing the 50 miler. It was nice to be able to chat with Rob who really served as my introduction to ultrarunning. Rob did Western States in the '80's sometime, and I remember being awed by knowing someone who had done this incomprehensible race. We arrived at the start around 3:15 and milled around with the other runners doing the typical pre-race rituals. Namely adjusting straps, waistbands, shoelaces, then visiting the outhouse, then readjusting straps, waistbands, and shoelaces. The race started at 4 am with Larry Simonsen, the RD, saying "Let's go." And we did. An orderly procession of approximately 50 runners (about half doing the 50 miler; the other half doing the 100) power hiked and slowly jogged through a campground and up the trail. I kept my Petzl headlamp beam steady on the legs in front of me, while sweeping the trail side-to-side with my small handheld MagnaLite. The first mile or so was all climb -- up and up and up. It was nice to start slow and acclimate to the darkness and to the trail. I tested my ability to spot the carsonite post trail markings. The trail was a bit tricky to run in the dark, but the body and mind were nimble and willing. I slowly began picking off slower runners and finally fell in with two women. "Which race are you doing?" said I beginning the chit-chat. Turns out they were both doing the 100; we were the only three female entrants. Hammie Farrokhi, a local entrant, led the way with Cheri Bashor, from Montana, following. They ran without walking -- up and down hills. I would fall behind as I power-hiked the hills and would catch up on flats and downhills. I told Hammie that I was going to grab onto her shorts if she was going to run the whole thing. Comfortable banter and running proceeded. The dawn began to break as we approached the first aid station at mile 6.6. Just before the station we approached a swampy area. Hammie and Cheri slowed down and began picking their way through the muck. I pounced on my chance to take the lead (I mean, what's a little mud?) and charged ahead. "Schmmook! Thluuk! Whooop!" My foot went down; my shoe was snatched from my foot as black sludge filled my sock. It took two hands and a strong leg press to free that shoe from the depths. Meanwhile, Cheri delicately ran by and patted me on the back in commiseration. I could only giggle. Heck, was I having fun, or what?!? The next eight miles provided some of the most enjoyable trail on which I have run. We first enjoyed a lovely long downhill section with tricky switchbacks. I flew down the hill by myself, but I could hear voices in front and behind me as runners laughed and traded lies. We left the Centennial trail to climb up to the Mount Rushmore monument. This section was complete bushwhacking, marked only with ribbon. I often had to stop and walk in ever widening circles to spot the appropriate course. It was fun -- I had spring in my step. The ribbons finally led up a steep scrabble to a construction lot filled with equipment and sheds protected by temporary fencing. I was afraid I was lost until I looked up. It was magnificent. The faces of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Teddy Roosevelt, and Abraham Lincoln loomed above. I felt that I could reach up and stroke the carving. I have visited this monument many times, and it always inspires awe. However I have never approached it by foot, climbing up a mountain. Larry had gained permission for us to run right through the monument entrance. We even had to stop for a mandatory photo stop with the carving in the background before we took off over the back side of the Mount Rushmore area. We paralleled a small rushing creek with little waterfalls rejoining the Centennial trail near Horsethief Lake at the Big Pine trailhead at mile 19. At this point I really loaded up on supplies. I filled my 50 oz. CamelBak to the brim and took extra SUCCEED! powder. My sister was going to have to let me go solo a while so she could go to the airport to meet my arriving parents. I gobbled an egg and olive salad sandwich and assured her I would be OK. I had been running really well. I was awed by the trail and the scenes. However, it had taken me 4 hours and 17 minutes to cover the distance. Wow! This was going to be a long day. No problem though -- I was in the Paha Sapa where the spirit of the place uplifts me. Nikki Nikki Robinson Chicago, IL nikki@meena.feinberg.nwu.edu