Mr Trail Safety Speaks!

Somewhere out on the WS100 Course, June 1993. Note: This post was originally unleashed to the UltraList on  December 10, 2011 12:11:26 PM PST Not only is this still largely relevant to WS100, but practically every other major 100 in the US, right now. Times have changed, and things need to be rethought. Hello, fun-hogs! Yes, its that time of year when thousands of anxious WS100 hopefuls agonize over whether or not they're in the magic circle. Are they 3-time losers in the 2nd degree? Nominated and EZ-Passed due to Extraordinary Accomplishments or somesuch? Busted out a 50-miler somewhere on a 2% downhill course? Probably not. So lets go down to the killing floor, and go to work. Here are some ideas. COMPLETELY ELIMINATE the 50-mile race requirement. This is dead meat, and has been festering like a zombie with bad manners for way too long. The new baseline qualifier would be a *FIVE prior 100-mile finishes* requirement. Yes, this is harsh. And pay phones are gone foreve

After a long absence, the Joshua Tree VisionKwest was reconvened on December 3-4, 2011. It had been almost 7 years since the last Gathering Of The Tribez [And Shit]®™. Were the Ancestor Gods annoyed, or delighted that their prodigal children had returned? As with all family gatherings, we'd have to be deep into the mix before finding out. Casino Bingo and Draw Poker had begun laying plans and cable for this enterprise several months earlier, with Dr Bingo doing the bulk of the heavy cranial gymnastics. A New Route had been chosen, one promising elements of delight from Previous Outings, but with New Sensations. Ostensible Route: Boy Scout -->Big Foot-->California Riding And Hiking Trail. Our original destination was Juniper Flats.  THE DAY IS REVEALED When the rosy-palmered sun arose over the Whine-Dork Sea, a nipply start was enjoyed by the under-dressed scrum, setting epic pace uphill out towards Boy Scout Trail. The bravely-dressed Rebecca V, Lori

The Jessica Simpson Flagon Of Forgetfulness Awaits Here's a sweet rhetorical question for you: "Are Ultrarunners A Family?" I'll be the Ancient Voice Of The Dead here and say that "no, ultrarunners are not family". Any more than pistol-enthusiasts, RV'ers, quilters, or MTB'ers. These are ALL associations. An association is a group of similarly-minded and focused interest group. You are born into, or marry into, a family—that's it. Families are composed of people you didn't choose. Finally—the humble runner, is invisible. Does not go out of their way to honk on about being inspirational or set an example. They simply do. Its insanely hard. Sure, if they help somebody, its a natural action. They aren't posing for their Instagram, tweeting their virtue, updating their Faceblurt, and so on. So when you meet some duck in shorts and they're going on about their good works, they're an egotistical horse's ass. Because its all

Neil Young, another famous Canadian, once wrote a song that made him a lot of $US, and he'll be singing it at the wedding of Avril Lavigne and that dude from Nickelback. Date: Thu, 24 Feb 2005 14:07:17 -0800 "Eminem Girl" I wanna live with an Eminem girl I could be happy the rest of my life With an Eminem girl. A trailer & tattoos I run in the night You see us together, Bouncing the rent check, My Eminem girl. I can't hear when she axes. How the hell do I know? I'm confused on the factses, Its crank or its blow, She's my Eminem girl. A trailer & tattoos I run in the night You see us together, Bouncing the rent check, My Eminem girl. Got drunk, really plowed, Back home we called it a cow Oh boy! I got in her pants Turns out she was a man, Yeah...yeah...yeah.

Wet/Wiped. LG in the chair, not looking forward to the last kick up the "hurtical" KD Trail. Jorge Pacheco won the Mt Disappointment 50k in 5 hrs. It took me 10hrs. Based on the entry fee, he paid twice as much per hour than I did for all that fun, not to mention heat, dust and dreams.  This course would be a fine introduction for those who've been led to believe in "California Carpet Trails". Had they been there yesterday, they've wished that they'd stayed home where it didn't get above 80º, and see their brows unfurrowed by inconvenient clouds blocking out the neutrino storms that are just par for this course. For the veterans out there, this race course was the mutant love-child of the bygone Lost Boys 50 and Bishop Mule Run 50k. The West Fork of the San Gabriel is examined thoroughly from high and low—crossing it at least 4 times, with lengthy run ups and outs to sun-blasted slopes where water is a seasonal memory far in the pas

The line between an interesting experience and a life-changing situation is very subtle. Denial and wishful thinking are not useful training modalities.  Want to do that race? Take that trip? Totally undecided?  Allow the DNF Analytic Indicator/Predictor & Oracle help you analyze your situation, with all factors reduced to Three Main Elements.  It will tell you everything you want to hear.

Its what you need, what you need. My pre-race crystal visions were shattered at 0445 by Norteña music. From 300 yards away, the musicians plaintively elucidated all the primary infinitives of estar, cantar, llorar, mandar and so on. For this I waited 10 years since my last ultra? I silently thanked el Profesor Mauricio for bringing me two steps further into knowledge. Slowly, I began firing on one cylinder, which took a while. After bleeding the master-line, I synchronized my watch from a sundial, because gnomon is an island unto himself. Due to the mist, my astrolabe was useless, but it mattered not.  The parking was now filled by cars with "26.2", "140.6" and similar stickers on them. This alerts thieves that they can steal skanky socks and shorts that smell like ass if they only wait.  RD Luis Escobar, in full authoritative charro regalia, gave an epic hellfire & damnation notification after the orientation speech—"If you come to me saying I go