Less than a month ago, while cruising the Internet looking for marathons, I came on the Black Mountain Marathon and Mt Mitchell Challenge. I remembered attempting to enter the Challenge three or four years ago and being too late. I emailed the director and luckily this year because there was some doubt whether they would hold the race at all there was still room.

The bonus to running this race near Asheville, NC was that it is in close proximity to the high points of SC and TN, and if I ran the Challenge I would bag the high point of NC as well! Three high points and a state marathon!!

I flew in to Asheville late Thursday night. Opting to delay my car rental to save some money, I took a free shuttle to my hotel near the airport, using the same shuttle to return the next morning to pick up my car.

Next morning I was off on a quest for my first high point of the trip: Mt Sassafras, SC. Long windy roads eventually took me across the border. A short ways after the border (3 miles) down 178 I found the sign for the highway and turned left. After about two miles snow began to appear on the road, getting worse the higher I climbed. It wasn't as bad as it had been though, judging from the tracks sliding off into the ditch. I made it all the way to within 100 yards of the summit, hiking the rest of the way to the modest high point. No fanfare here. Not even a summit sign. The only way you know you are on top is to look around and notice there are no higher points in sight.

Then I set my sights on the next high point, Clingman's Dome, TN. From Mt Sassafras to Smoky National Park is a circuituous route winding through mountain passes. I had my sights on the Blue Ridge Parkway for access, only to find it closed for the winter.

By other routes I eventually made it to Cherokee, gateway to the park from the NC side. All the while I had been looking for a place to eat. I hadn't eaten all day. All the prospects were unacceptable--Wendy's, McDonalds, BK. Now that I'm on a vegan diet the choices for food diminish drastically. I didn't eat until 6 PM that night after I had purchased food from the super market.

While I stopped by the river inside the park to take the photo at left a park ranger pulled up. "You wouldn't be fishing down there would you?" "No, I was just taking a photo." When I told him I intended to go up Clingman's Dome, he informed me that the seven-mile road to the summit was closed for the season. If I wanted to hike the road I would be cutting it close for daylight. It was 2:30 P.M. I thanked him and drove on up anyway, though it was another 15 miles to the pass.

Finally, I drove back to the race town, Black Mountain, NC. After checking in and picking up my race packet I drove to the race start by Tomahawk Lake, only a couple miles from downtown.

 

Next Day! Let the race begin!!

Morning broke with a temperature of around 25F. I decided on shorts and a thin top, gloves, and hat. Good choice. It's a delicate balance between being too warm and being too cold. Better to err on the side of cold, because just by running you generate quite a lot of heat. The danger comes when it is so cold that you never generate the warmth necessary to avoid, well, hypothermia!

The race started from Tomahawk Lake right as the sun came up at 0700. I fell in with the leaders and tried to start up a conversation. No one would have much with that. All too serious. With 5-6 hours of running this makes no sense to me. You simply have to relax in the early stages of a long race. The best way to relax is to converse!

For four miles we wound our way uphill through residential streets of Black Mountain. Shortly before we left the paved streets for the snow-covered single-track trail I let Will Harlan and another runner doing the marathon go. It was too early to push. I needed to run my own pace.

I ran alone for a mile or so before the eventual winner of the marathon came up from behind. We ran together and talked for a few minutes before I let him go as well. A few minutes later I noticed two more runners in my rear. I maintained my pace and they were content to fall in behind for a time. Soon I moved aside to relieve myself. That was the last I saw of them! I was now in 4th place in the Challenge.

The trail changed from single track to a wagon road, already packed by 4-W drive vehicles and ATV's. Some ER volunteers had set up tents along the way. They cheered us on.

I noticed a runner coming from behind and stopped to take his picture. (above)

We ran together for a time... Blade Sells from Chatanooga. After the race he asked me why I didn't run hard. Why did I play around taking photos? I told him it was a long race and you can't quibble over seconds (or even minutes). I would stop at the aide stations and take my time eating the chips or nuts and drinks before moving on.

We left the snow-covered trail for the Blue Ridge Parkway after many miles. Who knows how many? It was many!! But who was counting? Not I. One foot in front of the other. Steady goes it.

My new friend left me and two new runners came from behind, soon leaving me in their wake as well. Steady goes it. Up the parkway, finally to an aide station that marked our exit onto snow-covered trails once again. I could see the last two runners far ahead on the mile-long downhill trail. Now the route turned steeply upward for the final two miles to the summit. Now I was in my element!

I ran up the steep single track snow-covered trail, quickly closing the gap. That's what we do well in Colorado. Run on snow! The three runners who had passed me so easily on the parkway walked up the steep pathway. I ran. I easily slid by, reaching the summit well ahead and back securely in 4th place, even allowing for "photo ops".

Coming off the mountain (3hrs13min) I was about seven minutes behind third place. I ran hard for the next 7-8 miles down the paved parkway, closing the gap to three minutes by the time the parkway turned into the snow (slush now) wagon road thirty miles into the race. Ten more hard miles remained in the race, however.

The wagon road went on forever!! A speedster I had never seen the entire race before this point was the first to overtake me. He bounded past like a spring hare. Next, the three I had passed in the last two miles up the peak came barrelling past. The road went on and on. Finally, an eternity later and five hours into the race, a young lady at an aide station informed me that there were only four miles remaining! Glory to Zeus! Unfortunately, she turned out to be a dastardly liar! After a further 18 minutes of running at the next aide station I was informed that three more miles remained. Yet another liar! It still took better than half an hour after that point to reach the glorious end point. Never, ever tell a marathoner/ultrarunner a lie towards the end of a race!! It is extremely cruel and unusual punishment!