March 10, 2007
Greenbrier Rail Trail

The ride up to West Virginia was filled with the sounds of little known artists like Sufjan Stevens and Muse. We arrived and decided to head up to the Cranberry Glade botanical area. It's like Canadian tundra left over from the last ice age and is the furthermost south of any such area in the US. Near the entrance, we stopped at the visitor's center. We ran through the snow barefoot. Then we encountered a possum who was playing possum. It didn't respond to a snowball landing two feet from it.

The drive toward the glade traversed deep snow and my car was sliding all over the place. I couldn't control the car and we were heading downhill. Adam caught the ordeal on video. We wisely said enough is enough because we could potentially get stuck if we went further. We made it back to the entrance and pavement and ran back down the road through the snow.

The glade had a boardwalk to protect the tundra. It had frozen snow on top so we could stay on top most of the time but the occasional step led to a posthole nearly up to the knee. We didn't stay long so we could get to the cabin before nightfall.

Matt's parents arrived shortly after we did. The cabin was all log with plenty of room and a stone fireplace. Mrs. Kirk whipped up a wonderful past dinner with a vegetable laden sauce in almost no time at all. We watched some of "Oh Brother, Where Art Thou", and turned in for the night.

Morning came quickly. The drive to the trailhead took longer than expected, due to the narrow, crooked nature of all of West Virginia's roads. Deer were present around every other turn. We arrived at Cass and prepared for our journey.

The weather was perfect but the trail conditions were not. Matt and Adam took off at a torrid pace. I wasn't about to keep pace. I was well fueled but was very sluggish. My body didn't want to move. At the first aid stop, I was 45 minutes back, at just nine miles. I wanted to keep a 5 mph pace but it was more like 4 1/4. The snow was deep and it took its toll on my ankles. I walked through most of the snow. Deer were everywhere. We encountered a group in the first 200 yards.

After the aid stop, I struggled further. I didn't get a decent pace going until mile 14, but it didn't last long due to further snow and ice. I'm not much of a flat runner anyway but the snow and ice stymied my pursuit.

The scenery was spectacular and unspoiled. Occasionally, I'd encounter a house, but very little land was developed and the areas that were, were well kept. Much of the land bordering the river is either parkland or state forest.

The trail led through a dark tunnel and then crossed a trestle on the other side. The ice became more prevalant on the other side of the river. I longed for my Yaktrax and cursed myself for not bringing them. I soon ran out of fluid and opted to grab occasional handfuls of snow for sustenance. A loud noise startled me. A small boulder had tumbled onto the trail about twenty yards back. It would have enacted great pain or worse on me had it hit me. I ran on the other side of the trail from then on to avoid getting hit by any debris.

I passed two mountain bikers from Florida, who also were quite surprised by the amount of snow. They had enough sense not to follow the trail all of the way into Cass. Little did I know that it would be just as difficult on the ice further south.

The only sizable town on the route is Marlinton. This was at 24 miles and another aid stop. The aid car, however, was not there. I kept going, thinking they were further up the trail but they had left. I was stuck with no food or liquid or cash. I went back to town and sat on a bench for a while, contemplating my next move. I could beg for food or bug out and head for the cabin. Just then, the couple I'd met rode by again and said they'd found my package. I went right by the aid drop. They offered to get me coffee but I opted to refuel and head on down the trail. I'd done the last nine miles without food or liquid, except for the snow I'd been consuming from time to time.
I didn't get any faster. The snow turned to ice again. I was out of painkillers and electrolytes. My Yaktrax were in the cabin. I didn't bring the trail map with me. I guess a pattern developed. I made myriad mistakes but felt that I needed to deal with adversity and continue despite my follies.

The weather started heating up so I stripped down a bit. It actually became uncomfortably warm for a while. My ankle started to really bother me so I ran less and less. I heard a strange sound, like that of an antique tractor engine. It wound up being a group of ducks. The sound was surreal and very pleasing. I resolved to just enjoying the scenery while accepting my fate of hiking only from that point on.

I drudged on in what was to become the Marlinton Death March. I couldn't run due to ankle issues and eventually my feet blistered substantially. I got to the next drop and quickly inhaled the food. I figured one more drop and that would be it.

I hiked onward, on what would be the last 15 mile section for the day. It slowly became dark and it was a different world. Another brush with death greeted me as a large icicle fell right next to me. It missed me but not by much. I looked around and saw green illuminations floating in the distance. LED headlamps make deer eyes green. It felt like a hallucination.

I did make a couple of friends on the trail. A hunting dog ran with me for a half mile and I followed a skunk for a quarter mile. It didn't want to leave the trail. I couldn't tell much about my surroundings other than they were pitch black.

I got to the fifty mile point and figured it was time to stop. With the backtracking, I'd gone 54 miles and had been in pain for hours. It was time to make a wise decision and stay put. I waited to be picked up. I waited for 2 1/2 hours and at 12:30, was offered a ride by good samaritan. Everyone thought I dropped out earlier and the stop I was at was difficult to get to in daylight. I made it back after 1am. Adam and Matt were planning a rescue but didn't know where to start and were very tired.

Adam made it the entire 78 miles despite taking off so quickly. He had dehydration issues and became chilled when it rained. Matt did 35 miles and his dad did 30. That's about what they'd planned on doing. The guy, Steve, who gave me a ride, had also offered a ride to Adam and David Kirk. Matt and Patty had waited for two hours at what would be the next stop, six miles down the trail. I was just happy to be sleeping in a bed after doing pushups to stay warm at midnight on a dark, deserted trail.

On Sunday, we struggled through the stair laden boardwalk at Beartown State Park. Not much running took place but we got to see some fantastic sandstone features. I'm officially retiring from flat runs over a 50k.

Raging Bull or B-Rex