Pee Pole A (hash names used to protect fragile psyches and reputations) picked me up Friday evening for the two hour drive to Marion, IL. We stopped in O'Fallon and picked up another team member, Follow the Urine Trail. We got in Friday night and after a good dinner and a few libations, we turned in and got ready for a wild Saturday.
Known as the River to River Relay, this annual event brings in groups from all over the Midwest, about 350 I am told. The 80 mile stretch begins on the bluffs in a state park overlooking the Mississippi River. The course is divided into 24 three mile sections and ends on the banks of the Ohio River, in rustic Galconda, IL. Teams of eight to ten people take turns running to accomplish the feat. Our team consisted of only six...
The alarms went off around five as we had to drive 1.5 hours to the start from our hotel. Floppy D**k's wife Maury had forgotten her running shoes and had to drive 4 hours round trip to retrieve them. So with five runners, along with Floppy's two wild kids, we took off only to get hopelessly lost trying for shortcuts that never materialized. Finally, Pee Pole pointed the 15 P.V. in the right direction and we were primed for an 8:15am start time.
Porno was the first one off, followed by Follow the U. Trail with me in the third spot. My first leg was rather hilly and I had a chance to warm up for what would be a very long day. We developed a routine where we would drop the runner at exchange A, drive to exchange B where the next runner would get the baton, runner A getting back in the van and so on, 24 times on the day. I handed off to Floppy, then to Pee Pole. Maury made it back from the shoe run for leg six, a hilly beast of a trek.
Just before Maury's run, some young man had just finished running and somehow managed to fall down and severely magle his wrist. I couldn't help think back to my day in Wombacher Park when I landed on my wrist after a taking a plunge off a ridiculous snow ramp. Kid's forearm was flat on the splint pad and his hand was up in the air. Nast.
My second leg was a bit easier and I rewarded myself with a halfway done beer. Wise choice, my third leg was even better. Convinced of the healing powers of the brew, I had another before my final leg. The sky had clouded over and we were graced with a drizzle as U. Trail gave me the baton. No sooner had I gone over a hill, the clouds moved off, the dipping sun reappeared and a brilliant rainbow lingered. It was a pretty amazing experience, and I came over a hill and saw my final hand-off zone at the bottom. I nearly maimed my frame by letting gravity take over running down that hill. Alas, I handed over to Floppy and my day of running was over. We drove into Galconda, loaded the van up with 80 bucks worth of gasohol then met Maury as she closed in on the finish line. We all joined her for the last block, crossing the line as a proud team while the countrified announcer mangled our names like that young chap's wrist.
We posed for a few photos by the Ohio River with Kentucky in the background. Missouri to Kentucky in a day by way of the foot. Our team had finished the 80 mile stretch in under 12 hours. Another hash team from St. Louis had 10 members and took nearly an hour longer than us. It was a nice accomplishment and a great day. I am definitely planning on doing it again in 12 months time.
In the mean time, I'll keep hashing. I'll keep my eyes on the JET e-mails and hope there's a community in Kumamoto continuing the fine tradition. I will enjoy a beer after a good run and hopefully, I won't fall on my wrist.
