Bigfoot 200 is an endurance run from south of Mount St. Helens to Randle, Washington. It is put on by a company that stages one smaller race here and a similar race at Lake Tahoe. The whole endurance running scene is quite colorful. Ham radio licensees provide much valued support since there is no telephone, no electricity, no cell service, and no Internet. The mountains prove a huge technical challenge for us, but we did it.
Friday afternoon
Here I am in the Mount
St. Helens blast zone. The trees that were killed and snapped in two in the
eruption are like white skeletons all over the hillsides with little in the way
of mature trees to replace them. Norway Pass Aid Station is a Sno Park—parking
lot, vault toilet and water—maintained by the National Park Service. The aid
station crew consists of Todd and his family and Todd the Medical Director. I
designated them Race Todd and Medical Todd for the purposes of radios. Medical
Todd is a fire fighter/EMT from Tucson and watches runners as they come
through. Mostly he treats their feet. Our station is number five or six on the
race and we have yet to see anyone. The aid station crew has a grill going and
is cutting up fruit. There are about 60 runners that will come through here
between about 9pm and 9pm tomorrow.
There are two other
hams at the radio station. One is Tom and he got here yesterday to watch the
meteor showers. I asked him how he got into ham radio and he said to track
sasquatches. He then launched forth into a diatribe on sasquatches, Adolph
Hitler as a hireling of the British Secret Service and Jefferson Davis as a
hireling of the British Secret Service. Jim is the other ham.
______
Saturday morning
It got cold in the
night. I went from tee and shorts to jeans, long sleeves, jacket, and stocking
cap. The rest stop looks like a picnic buffet with gas grills and snacks.
Around a fireplace are camp chairs where volunteers and runners can enjoy some
warmth. All of this is under awnings.
The first runner
arrived at 1am. They have headlamps and in the dark they walk rather than run.
Some spent the night at the prior aid station and some stayed on the trail and
even slept on the trail.
Our radio effort is
over staffed so it was possible to get some sleep in the truck. I got cold a
couple times and used the fire and then snuggled in the sleeping bag with the
seat full reclined.
At dawn I enjoyed a
breakfast burrito and fruit. Now we are waiting for the sun to come up and get
us warm again. As I write this just before 7 we have about a third of the
runners through. They have until 5pm to pass here before the cut off and things
close down.
Runners and their
crews are crashed out in cars, in a special tent for the runners, and just bedded
down in the parking lot. These runners are an interesting breed, very spare,
very focused, obsessive even. Most use two walking sticks and all have special
packs that fit tight to their backs and contain a water bladder.
The night sky is
amazing. I so rarely get to see the night sky with all the stars particularly
after the 3/4 moon (technically waxing gibbous) went down. We didn't see the
meteor shower probably because of the clouds. I just stood under the stars and
recalled all those nights as a kid looking up in wonder.
Saturday will be a
lot of waiting around since the other two guys can handle all this. One guy
could handle this. A difference between us is that they are all spread out with
their camping gear, radios, tables, and antenna(s). I've got everything in the
truck and am one minute from being able to drive out of here. If any runners
need transport I may volunteer to make the trip so the medics aren't taken off
the field.
Saturday evening
I am at Klickitat
Aid Station sitting around a collection of delightful people waiting for
runners. The sun is in a clear blue sky and our principle concern is finding
shade. Those in attendance include 1) medic from Cowlitz County, 2) a Romanian
couple and their non-English speaking family who have set up the aid station
with cook stoves, tables, canopies, and food, food, food, (they call me Meester
Dave), 3) two moms in a new RV camp trailer, 4) a photographer
"Ponch" who looks like the male antagonist in a telenovella, and a
half dozen pacers, people who run and walk along with the runners. The aid
station has a pile of "drop bags" with runners' supplies. Sleep tents
allow runners to rest. The women here are very fit :) and inked.
My ham partners are
Dave from Edmonds and Brian from Maple Valley. It is necessary to set up a
cross-band repeater, a remote station in Dave’s truck at the top of the hill.
It repeats our signals from the aid station to the main repeater which sends to
all stations. Brian volunteered for hermit duty at the top of the hill to keep
things going there like our radio progenitors on the rocky, stormy coast of
Nova Scotia tapping out messages. Only Brian reads and tends batteries and a
generator.
This is deep
forest, unlike the blast zone. Thirty miles in from the main road on gravel. I
got some great pics of Mount Adams in the dusk with the moon and again in the
dawn. I slept in the truck overnight as well as in my own bed and awoke at
6:30. What an adventure.
I will be here
until Monday evening. I haven't decided if I will try to return to Seattle then
or not. It's a long haul down the road and then three hours to Seattle. I will
see.
There no toilets at
Klickitat. The facility consists of one shovel which I have dubbed the Unisex
Rest Room. We take the shovel signaling that the facility is in use. On my
visit I was treated to wild blueberries in front of me. What an adventure. There
are a lot of people at the aid station and I make my administrative stops up at
the top of the hill where Brian has a shovel and handiwipes. What did the
Pilgrims do without handiwipes?
The Klickitat Aid Station is at a wide spot in the road
where there are tents, RVs, canopies, cooking areas, generators and a circle of
camp chairs around a steel fireplace imported for the purpose. A large tarp
holds the drop bags, the supplies that each runner stages forward. As I write
this the volunteers are sorting bags in the cool morning to ship forward.
Things are quieter since there are not the family and friends of runners
hanging around. We are waiting for about 22 people to pass through the station
before the station closes at 8:30 pm. Anyone who arrives after that is pulled
from the race.
The food and coffee continues to flow. The head of the aid
station is an air conditioning contractor from Portland, a native of Romania.
He has members of the extended family who do not speak English and work in the
kitchen, chop wood and smile. He is Giuliano and his wife is Veronica, in
charge of the kitchen. They call me "Meester Dave."
I worked overnight. I went to bed in the truck at 9 pm and
set the alarm for midnight. I relieved partner Dave who got my seat in the
truck. Overnight was busy as runners came in out of the woods, their bouncing
headlamps the first indication they were approaching. The medical director is a
Tucscon fireman who focuses on their cognition and general health and spends
most of his time on their feet. He undertakes a ritualistic examination of skin
and toes and heels and applies carefully cut bits of tape and moleskin. It was
cold and the fire was a lifesaver. At dawn Dave relieved me and I got about an
hour and a half sleep. I'm stinky and scruffy. All day and into the evening I
am changing clothes, shorts and tee when it gets hot and gradually going to
jeans, long sleeves, jacket and stocking cap at night. I change my pants next
to my truck.
Our job is to send and receive lists of runner arrival and
departure times and verifying their locations. Each runner carries a satellite
tracker, but these are not foolproof. There are also requests for supplies and other administrative messages.
I got done at 5pm Monday and got home at 9:30. I can't wait until the next one.
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