Post by MattCollister on Aug 5, 2009 19:48:18 GMT -5
Brandon "The Beard" Henneman forwarded this to me. Originally sent to the Ultrarunners listserv email list and worth posting here.
Say what you want about CLE---we may have rotten winters, stinky sports teams and a disproportionate share of the nation's obese. But we do have kick-ass parks---a massive municipal park system intersecting one of the biggest national parks near a major city. And I get to use it everyday.
Lucky me.
-----Original Message-----
From: Mary Gorski [mailto:marygorski@SBCGLOBA L.NET]
Sent: Sunday, August 02, 2009 7:37 PM
Subject: The river that never burned
BURNING RIVER 2009
"Burning River" -- when I heard it, I immediately thought of the 1969
fire on the Cuyahoga River in Cleveland, a river so filled with toxic
sludge that it caught on fire. In fact, it was repulsive enough that
not even leeches and sludge worms -- the usual inhabitants of such
fixer-upper bodies of water -- would take up residence there.
What kind of running race would want to name itself after such body
of yuck? What kind of course would such an event offer? Miles upon
miles of odoriferous sludge lined by toxic waste repositories?
Carcinogenic air leaving runners coughing the cough of black-lung
miners?
But then I looked at my calendar. I wanted to do a 100-miler
sometime this summer and the first weekend of August was perfect
timing in the midst of other commitments. Ohio is an easy drive from
my hometown of Milwaukee. I looked at the website for photos and
videos of the course. Surprisingly, there were no pictures of water
ablaze or toxic waste dumps. Was the site a PR hoax? Were the
photos from some other lovely park system, miles from the Cuyahoga
River?
What the heck, might as well sign up and see for myself. On the
bright side -- literally -- I figured that if the river did actually
catch on fire it would help to illuminate the course for the night
section of the event. I have such lousy night vision, this could
only be a plus.
And then I talked a few of my peeps into joining me. If you are
going to run along a burning river, you might as well do so with
friends. I was glad that much of my Badwater crew from last year was
going to be there, including Scott Jacaway, who only two weeks
earlier did Badwater himself.
Our carload got to Cuyahoga Falls Thursday evening, so we had plenty
of time on Friday to check out the race course. In what areas would
I need to have a hazardous waste suit? I was thinking of packing a
few in my drop bags for the most toxic sections of the course. But
then we found the start area in the North Chagrin Reservation just
west of I-271. Beautiful forested land with New England-like towns
nestled nearby. Where was the toxic sludge? Where were the one-eyed
mutant spawn of the Burning River? But then -- much to my chagrin --
I realized that we were in an area that featured not the Cuyahoga but
the Chagrin River. We wouldn't move into the Cuyahoga Valley until
later in the race. Certainly, all of those pretty photos and videos
that I saw on the website were taken here, in the northern section of
the course. The one-eyed mutants would most likely be staffing the
aid stations starting midway into the race.
Having errands to run, we decided to skip the rest of the course tour
and just be surprised by the Burning River on race day.
And what a surprise it was. Burning River -- the race -- was one BIG
surprise for those of us running it for the first time. The course
offered everything from bucolic country roads to pancake flat
towpaths to gentle bridal trails to rock and root-infested
single-track filled with mud, steep hills and stream crossings.
There was even a bouldering section with narrow slot passages which
many of us got to enjoy in the dark of the night -- without aid of
illumination from any burning bodies of water.
We were only a short drive from Cleveland, often within earshot of
major interstate roads, yet sometimes I thought that I was in a
different place completely. Talking with others, the line "didn't
that section remind you of..." and the routes of places other than
Ohio quickly ended the sentence. Sometimes I felt like I was at the
Vermont 100, other times in my own Kettle Moraine. The boulders
reminded me of scrambling around the Superior/Sawtooth course in
northern Minnesota. A long valley descent made me think that I was
at Western States, while a few stream crossings and muddy hill climbs
made me think of the Voyageur route near Duluth.
Cleveland? This is the Cleveland area? And where was all that toxic
waste? The one-eyed mutants?
For those running Burning River for the first time, the course is an
incredible tease. You start on the easy footing of quiet, country
roads and then move to gentle bridal trails. Every once in awhile
you stray off the towpath for a run on some single-track, but
overall, the first half isn't overly challenging save for the actual
distance -- running 50 miles or more is ALWAYS challenging.
Burning River lulls its virgin runners into thinking that perhaps a
PR is within easy reach. Then the mood swings of the BR course begin.
She goes up, she goes down. She gets slippery when wet. She seems
like she has moved back to an even calm and then lashes out again,
sending you up dozens upon dozens of forest service steps built for
no human gate. She tosses you into a river, apologizes with the calm
of a towpath, and then tosses you back again.
And for those of us not up to a speedy sub-20 hour run, she teams up
with her sister, Mother Nature, and throws in some rain and pea soup
fog to top off the event.
So much of the Burning River race was an incredible surprise to me --
in a good way. The organization was top-notch with armies of
volunteers at every aid station. I was treated like rock star.
Leaving night time stations I always had a non-mutant volunteer walk
out with me, pointing me in the correct direction, giving me a
description of what to expect in the miles ahead. Leaving one of the
final aid stations I had a police escort ensure my safety up a
two-block stretch of busy road. He literally drove alongside me in
the pre-dawn hours chatting about the race and reminding me of the
next couple of turns.
And anyone who thinks that the Cuyahoga River and surrounding valley
is anything like the burning oil-slicked mess of 1969, you think
wrong. The hazmat suits were never donned.
As for my race, it was good. Like many, I was lulled by the tease of
easy roads and trails in the first half, running under the pace that
I originally set for myself. I had a lot of company. At various
times our little pack included my Badwater buddies Stephanie, Scott
and Nikki, as well as Juli Aistars of Chicago, and several 100-mile
virgins. A big congrats to Bo Marchionte who repeated put up with
the ever-changing nicknames that a few of us continued to bestow upon
him: Bo Bo, Bodacious, Bo Diddley... Even after hearing miles of our
mindless chatter he went on to an incredible first-time finish.
Anyhow, lulled by the early ease, I was a bit blown away by the
increasing challenges of the Burning River course as the miles
accumulated, especially in the last third. But I kept moving along,
ever more slowly, but without injury or vomit. I even managed to
stay awake through to the finish -- generally one of my toughest
challenges in an overnight event. A gosh-darn nice way to spend
25-and-a-half hours.
Many thanks to race organizers, especially RD Joe Jurczyk. Excellent
event, even if we didn't have the night-time illumination of a
burning river.
Webcast results are at: http://burningriver 100.org
--
Mary Gorski
marygorski@sbcgloba l.net
Milwaukee, WI
Say what you want about CLE---we may have rotten winters, stinky sports teams and a disproportionate share of the nation's obese. But we do have kick-ass parks---a massive municipal park system intersecting one of the biggest national parks near a major city. And I get to use it everyday.
Lucky me.
-----Original Message-----
From: Mary Gorski [mailto:marygorski@SBCGLOBA L.NET]
Sent: Sunday, August 02, 2009 7:37 PM
Subject: The river that never burned
BURNING RIVER 2009
"Burning River" -- when I heard it, I immediately thought of the 1969
fire on the Cuyahoga River in Cleveland, a river so filled with toxic
sludge that it caught on fire. In fact, it was repulsive enough that
not even leeches and sludge worms -- the usual inhabitants of such
fixer-upper bodies of water -- would take up residence there.
What kind of running race would want to name itself after such body
of yuck? What kind of course would such an event offer? Miles upon
miles of odoriferous sludge lined by toxic waste repositories?
Carcinogenic air leaving runners coughing the cough of black-lung
miners?
But then I looked at my calendar. I wanted to do a 100-miler
sometime this summer and the first weekend of August was perfect
timing in the midst of other commitments. Ohio is an easy drive from
my hometown of Milwaukee. I looked at the website for photos and
videos of the course. Surprisingly, there were no pictures of water
ablaze or toxic waste dumps. Was the site a PR hoax? Were the
photos from some other lovely park system, miles from the Cuyahoga
River?
What the heck, might as well sign up and see for myself. On the
bright side -- literally -- I figured that if the river did actually
catch on fire it would help to illuminate the course for the night
section of the event. I have such lousy night vision, this could
only be a plus.
And then I talked a few of my peeps into joining me. If you are
going to run along a burning river, you might as well do so with
friends. I was glad that much of my Badwater crew from last year was
going to be there, including Scott Jacaway, who only two weeks
earlier did Badwater himself.
Our carload got to Cuyahoga Falls Thursday evening, so we had plenty
of time on Friday to check out the race course. In what areas would
I need to have a hazardous waste suit? I was thinking of packing a
few in my drop bags for the most toxic sections of the course. But
then we found the start area in the North Chagrin Reservation just
west of I-271. Beautiful forested land with New England-like towns
nestled nearby. Where was the toxic sludge? Where were the one-eyed
mutant spawn of the Burning River? But then -- much to my chagrin --
I realized that we were in an area that featured not the Cuyahoga but
the Chagrin River. We wouldn't move into the Cuyahoga Valley until
later in the race. Certainly, all of those pretty photos and videos
that I saw on the website were taken here, in the northern section of
the course. The one-eyed mutants would most likely be staffing the
aid stations starting midway into the race.
Having errands to run, we decided to skip the rest of the course tour
and just be surprised by the Burning River on race day.
And what a surprise it was. Burning River -- the race -- was one BIG
surprise for those of us running it for the first time. The course
offered everything from bucolic country roads to pancake flat
towpaths to gentle bridal trails to rock and root-infested
single-track filled with mud, steep hills and stream crossings.
There was even a bouldering section with narrow slot passages which
many of us got to enjoy in the dark of the night -- without aid of
illumination from any burning bodies of water.
We were only a short drive from Cleveland, often within earshot of
major interstate roads, yet sometimes I thought that I was in a
different place completely. Talking with others, the line "didn't
that section remind you of..." and the routes of places other than
Ohio quickly ended the sentence. Sometimes I felt like I was at the
Vermont 100, other times in my own Kettle Moraine. The boulders
reminded me of scrambling around the Superior/Sawtooth course in
northern Minnesota. A long valley descent made me think that I was
at Western States, while a few stream crossings and muddy hill climbs
made me think of the Voyageur route near Duluth.
Cleveland? This is the Cleveland area? And where was all that toxic
waste? The one-eyed mutants?
For those running Burning River for the first time, the course is an
incredible tease. You start on the easy footing of quiet, country
roads and then move to gentle bridal trails. Every once in awhile
you stray off the towpath for a run on some single-track, but
overall, the first half isn't overly challenging save for the actual
distance -- running 50 miles or more is ALWAYS challenging.
Burning River lulls its virgin runners into thinking that perhaps a
PR is within easy reach. Then the mood swings of the BR course begin.
She goes up, she goes down. She gets slippery when wet. She seems
like she has moved back to an even calm and then lashes out again,
sending you up dozens upon dozens of forest service steps built for
no human gate. She tosses you into a river, apologizes with the calm
of a towpath, and then tosses you back again.
And for those of us not up to a speedy sub-20 hour run, she teams up
with her sister, Mother Nature, and throws in some rain and pea soup
fog to top off the event.
So much of the Burning River race was an incredible surprise to me --
in a good way. The organization was top-notch with armies of
volunteers at every aid station. I was treated like rock star.
Leaving night time stations I always had a non-mutant volunteer walk
out with me, pointing me in the correct direction, giving me a
description of what to expect in the miles ahead. Leaving one of the
final aid stations I had a police escort ensure my safety up a
two-block stretch of busy road. He literally drove alongside me in
the pre-dawn hours chatting about the race and reminding me of the
next couple of turns.
And anyone who thinks that the Cuyahoga River and surrounding valley
is anything like the burning oil-slicked mess of 1969, you think
wrong. The hazmat suits were never donned.
As for my race, it was good. Like many, I was lulled by the tease of
easy roads and trails in the first half, running under the pace that
I originally set for myself. I had a lot of company. At various
times our little pack included my Badwater buddies Stephanie, Scott
and Nikki, as well as Juli Aistars of Chicago, and several 100-mile
virgins. A big congrats to Bo Marchionte who repeated put up with
the ever-changing nicknames that a few of us continued to bestow upon
him: Bo Bo, Bodacious, Bo Diddley... Even after hearing miles of our
mindless chatter he went on to an incredible first-time finish.
Anyhow, lulled by the early ease, I was a bit blown away by the
increasing challenges of the Burning River course as the miles
accumulated, especially in the last third. But I kept moving along,
ever more slowly, but without injury or vomit. I even managed to
stay awake through to the finish -- generally one of my toughest
challenges in an overnight event. A gosh-darn nice way to spend
25-and-a-half hours.
Many thanks to race organizers, especially RD Joe Jurczyk. Excellent
event, even if we didn't have the night-time illumination of a
burning river.
Webcast results are at: http://burningriver 100.org
--
Mary Gorski
marygorski@sbcgloba l.net
Milwaukee, WI
Our aid station demands about 30 people, 10 for each 4 hour stretch to keep demands on an individuals time reasonable.