BADWATER 2003

FACT AND FANTASY

PART I

PRE RACE MEETING

“What the Hell Am I Doing Here?”

Part I is an excerpt from my talk at the pre race meeting at the DVNP Visitors Center where the Badwater 2003 Ultramarathon participants assembled. In all, 73 invitees were there along with their crewmembers, pacers, and family members. The 300 seats in the auditorium were completely filled. We were all stuck there for about five to six hours. Our rooms would not be available until 1600. Registration was between 1200 and 1400 and the meeting started at 1500. The air conditioning was not on and the inner surfaces of the concrete block walls were very hot. The tension was building up as is usual at a time like this.

Chris Kostman made a brief announcement. Then he introduced my wife, Denise, the First Lady of Badwater and the “Blister Queen” and me. I neglected to properly recognize her when the microphone was turned over to me. I would like to do so now and thank her for being my wife and for all of her marvelous efforts regarding Badwater. I thanked him and Deb Caplan and his staff for their monumental efforts at putting on this event.

There were 52 participants at the Memorial weekend heat training clinic and 40 at the July 4^th clinic. Of these, 23 were invitees.  These stories and digital photos are on the website.

We all appreciated meeting Jay Birmingham and hearing about his solo crossing in 1981 and he was available to autograph his book, “The Longest Hill.” Major Maples was back from the world’s largest kitty litter box, Iraq, to do from Baghdad to Badwater. Many other famous people, too numerous to mention, were in the room and I hope they will provide stories of their experiences later. I mentioned that I was proud to be in the midst of these athletes. We always enjoy the annual pilgrimage to Death Valley renewing old acquaintances and meeting new friends. We regard all of these people as our family and they are our friends for life. Chris Moon advises, “One can find one’s soul out here and get close to God.” I advised everyone heed these words and to notice the pretty colors of the mountains and startling night sky.

I started off by remarking, “What the Hell Am I doing here?” I queried among the audience if any of them wondered the same and if they felt they had made a mistake. I believe I got some positive responses.

To avoid getting into trouble, I advised everyone to not believe anything I was to say in the next few minutes. My speechwriters in D.C. advised that I not mention anything about the sixteen-word sentence having to do with the purchase of uranium by Iraq from a small country in Africa, so I decided to leave it out.

A: ELECTION OF MAYOR

I sensed that everyone was anxious to know about the election of Mayor of Badwater last November. The news had not yet trickled down. It was a very close election. Terrorism was my first priority. At the polling booth I cast my usual vote for myself. While I was there I noticed two dark-skinned men with turbans on their heads. They were speaking Pashtun and had no idea that I could understand them. Pashtun was my second language as I was growing up in Southern California. (I chuckled that I was also fluent in Aramaic, hieroglyphics, cuneiform and Sanskrit). They were talking about their agenda. They planned to do a write-in vote for Ramzi bin al Shieb (more on him later). They planned to start a “day care center” down by Ashford Mill and Mormon Point. Then they began mentioning words such as “guerilla warfare, Kalashnikov, rocket propelled grenades, and al-Qaeda.” Next they bragged about stealing a large mill from Pillsbury Products to be able to start a “milk factory.” Then they talked about weaponizing the material and using spores. Finally, they bragged about setting up a “flight school” at the Furnace Creek airport and had ordered a flight simulator to practice landings. They were already practicing with crop dusters over at the Harmony Borax Works. As it turned out, Ramzi bin al Shieb had just been captured and was in detention at an undisclosed location but probably at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. He was the mastermind of the World Trade Center 9-11 disaster. The two other voters were undocumented and had false voters registration cards, driver’s licenses, and social security disability cards provided somehow by the CIA. They had fled to the Barker Ranch in the Panamint Range, which was Charlie Manson’s former hideout. I called Bev at the Inyo County Clerk’s Office and asked for a recount such as was done in the past in Dade County, Florida. It turned out that the ballots were dimpled and had hanging chads and were discounted. So I won the election 1-0 instead of losing 1-2. I am really glad we didn’t have to involve the Supreme Court Justices this time.

The above covers the antiterrorism part of my campaign. The second issue was that of vandalism. A report was filed about some misspelled graffiti in my office at Badwater. My office also serves as the men’s room, which is the building on the right as you face south. I went into my office and noticed the commode on the left and my lectern on the right. Above my desk on the far wall were the letters: p-e-n-u-s. I dashed up to the Park Superintendent’s office and he was already aware of the problem. He said he would take care of it and promised that the whole area would be renovated. The sea level sign was missing and would be replaced high up on the cliff. Recent paving had obliterated the start-line. I began to think that an official start of the Race could not be held and we were going to have one of those asterisk (*) years. There was not time to wheel the course in reverse from the Portals to Badwater.

The third issue was that of pollution. Many tourists complained to the Rangers about the foul odors wafting up from the pit in my office. I took care of the problem myself by breaking up the muck down there and dumping in a bunch of lye. The stench now is no worse than from the brine ponds, I am happy to announce.

B: FULL DISCLOSURE

Don’t believe any of this either. At this point I felt it only fair to outline in full disclosure my race strategy. I knew that it would not be a “slam dunk/shock and awe” performance but more like a long, dragged out affair such as the Scott Peterson trial in Modesto.

The first three strategic steps were taken from the movie, “What About Bob” with Richard Dreyfus and Bill Murray. I would take “baby steps” in order to achieve micro goals. I would go from one crack in the road to the next; I would go from one reflector to the next; I would go from one mile-post-marker to the next. The miles would pile up behind me and I wouldn’t worry about what was ahead. I would “take a vacation from my problems” and get away from managed care, compliancy issues, poor reimbursement, and computer crashes, fax machines and patients who only wanted vicodin, xanax, soma, and phenteramine. Next I would need to figure out all of the necessary ways during the Race to stay alive and this is where “death therapy” comes in as a very important consideration to avoid death.

The “Revenge of the Nerds” provided the idea for an important item as I had discovered that a part of me is nerd-like. I would be using a Louis Skolnik Pocket Protector for my gadgets but mostly for the rectal thermometer.

In order not to get lost at the Scotty’s Castle turnoff I would take the advice of Yogi Berra indicating, “if you come to a fork in the road, take it.”

I had been intensely following the Tour de France and noticed that the great bikers wore a coveted yellow jersey. I had a yellow t-shirt given to me from the Comrades Marathon and was prepared to use it. Then I saw Nancy Shura with all of her hone bees. At the last minute I decided to use my bright green and yellow John Deere tractor suspenders to hold up my sun protection pants.

My drink of choice was to be the blue (glacier ice) Gatorade similar in color to the toilet bowl cleaner seen on the shelves in the markets. It tastes a lot better and has more balanced of electrolytes.

Not to take unfair advantage of my competitors, I announced that I would be doing only nose breathing. I would take four paces forward while inhaling only through my nose and then four paces forward while exhaling only through my nose. My nasal passages would act as a governor in order not to go too fast plus I would not lose as much fluid in the form of moisture loss.

I brought my inline skates and a parasail to deploy when there were tail winds and a street luge to use on the downhill side of Towne Pass. There was nothing in the rules to discourage using these devises. I cancelled my sky surfing drop-in at the Race start area. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a lot of talent or time to practice using these things.

I really felt that I needed a boost going up the hills such as like turning on the afterburner for jet assistance.  Recently I became acquainted with the Badwater Ultramarathon’s new sponsor. I tapped into keihls.com and went over their apothecary and herbal products and requested free samples of the garlic suppositories. I planned on doing insertions every three miles going up Towne Pass and in moments of thoughtfulness I wanted to make sure everyone had passed me by then

The Lone Pine branch of AARP would be delivering meals-on-wheels to undisclosed locations on the course. I pleaded with the runners to at least leave the brussel sprouts for me.

When and if I got to Keeler I would not be sending my crew to Lone Pine for clam chowder as Nick Palazzo did in “Running On The Sun” in 1999. I didn’t want to say, “I don’t want to ask where youz went.”

This idea came from Major League Baseball after Sammy Sosa broke his corked bat. There was nothing in the rules of the race that I couldn’t use corked orthotics. I sent mine in to Russ Bollig to be drilled and corked. I wanted the runners, as they passed, to notice how I was bouncing along as if on pogo sticks.

In the light of recent news from the Cordilliera Spa in Vail, Colorado, I decided to cancel my membership there and quit my sauna training. I was too high profile for the place, had no bodyguards, and the chicks were too cute. My speechwriters pleaded with me to not use the expression, “He planked her in the linen closet,” so instead I used, “He performed a DNA transfer.”

I was thinking of asking Chris Kostman to discount the Portal Road as I had already been doing some race management errands between Lone Pine and the Portals anyway. From knowing Chris, I really knew I didn’t stand a chance on this strategy although it would have been a time saver and was worth a try.

My last concern was the post race drug testing. I have usually had no problem passing these tests for my overall placing and age group placing (usually found at the far right bottom of the board) but was afraid of disqualification for having trace levels of Rogaine.

C: ANNUAL AUTOPSY REPORT

This extensive report is on hold because of too many cases to present in a short period of time. This is a subject all by itself.

D: EPILOGUE

Richard Benyo was in the audience taking extensive notes for new ideas for, “Marathon and Beyond.” I wanted everyone in the room to consider a new concept for ultrarunning and ultramarathons. I have been looking for long distance races with extended cut off times such as when the same race starts the next year. One could go back on the course during the year and fill in the previously missed segments and then turn their final time in to the race director, even if it was in weeks and months. The other concept important to me is inframarathoning and the inframarathon. This would be a race short of a marathon and could even be a 100-yard dash but with at least three aid stations along the way. I can see a new publication in the offing, “ Marathon and Less.”

PART II

BADWATER 2003

ULTRAMARATHON: THE RACE

 “It Was 135 at the Badwater 135”

The alarm was set for 0400 on Tuesday 07-22-2003. My feet were pre taped two days earlier by Denise so that saved a lot of time. All I had to do was get on my solar protection gear along with the bright yellow and green John Deere tractor suspenders and insert my Louis Skolnik Pocket Protector with the rectal thermometer. As I turned over my wallet, money, credit cards, cell phone, and pager to Denise I thought to myself that for once I didn’t need these material things and that they wouldn’t do any good here anyway. It was a great feeling. I was turning myself over to my wife and crew and to the environment.

I had a bagel and some juice and then started drinking water and Gatorade like mad as we headed for Badwater at around 0500. It was great as we visited and gathered for the voluntary/obligatory photo shoots. Several official looking people singled me out for pictures and interviews, which pleased me. I had stuck my head out to be the first 70-year old to be in the Badwater Ultramarathon. I headed for my office to make a last minute deposit and make sure no misspelled graffiti had been added to the walls. Recent paving obliterated the start-line and so the official distance might eventually be challenged (especially for those using this event as a Boston qualifier). There had not been enough time to wheel the course in reverse to establish the accurate 135-mile distance. This might be one of those asterisk (*) years I thought to myself.

Adam Bookspan played the Star Spangled Banner on his trumpet and it was inspirational. Chris Kostman did a countdown using his radio-controlled clock for an accurate 0600-start.

Several runners streaked out (I refused to be the rabbit) as Ken Eielson and I shuffled off. A little while later I found that I had worked my way into last place. My crew leap-frogged ahead a mile-at-a-time and made sure I was properly fueled. I peed every 15 minutes for many hours thereafter. (In 1994 I was under hydrated and faced the danger of renal shutdown and rhabdomyolysis and had to drop at 41 miles).

The CBS crew headed by Linda Alvarez and the camera girl visited me several times for a few minutes in the first ten miles. I really liked them. I didn’t have the heart to tell them I was practicing to be on the David Letterman Show. Near Mushroom Rock at 12 miles I looked out over the salt flats where two separate motor vehicle accidents had taken place with one death each occurring last summer requiring my services. I also looked west to the foot of Telescope Peak where a Swiss professor had tried to climb up to the top of Telescope Peak and back down to the Valley floor. He made it back almost to his vehicle and was found dead after having been reported missing. This was during the Race in 2002.

The southbound 0800-starters began to pass by and we all exchanged friendly and encouraging waves. This was repeated two hours later with the 1000-starters. After being on the road about four hours I felt a shock wave behind me. Then something like a Doppler effect took place. It was the first 0800-starter, Blade Norman, known for his strict adherence to rules. He streaked by as if he were on his way to a surfing contest. I cautioned him about his speed and lack of clothing as I was buffeted in his vortices and wind shear. A few others passed me from the 0800-start before I got to Furnace Creek (FC).

The time station at FC registered my time there in 5:38 so I had done a 20-minute-per-mile pace up to that point. The shade of a palm tree was inviting for a brief cool down. I decided not to rest in the irrigation ditch at the date palm orchard this year. At the Harmony Borax works I looked west to see if the Central Asians were practicing with their crop dusters over the borate flats. It was hard to tell anything through the mirage and through the cataracts. At around 20 miles the 1000-start runners started to pass. It was hard to tell the 0800 from the 1000-starters as I did not unfurl the roster for reference. I recognized Rudy Afanador and shouted him words of encouragement. Later Pam Reed approached and I am proud to have been side-by-side with her for a few nanoseconds. I have a picture proving it.

Between the marathon mark and the 50K mark I noticed that I needed five-to-ten minute rests between the miles covered and that I was only averaging 30-minute miles. Gary Morris strolled with me for a mile and it was inspirational to have him at my side especially after the Memorial weekend incident. The day before he presented me with his “Death Valley Discovery” manuscript, which I cherish. He has the concept that this Race is against the environment and not against each other. Mentally I was dreading the “hill” between the sea level signs before rounding the turn to Stovepipe Wells (SPW) 31 to 35 miles. It is now being called “The Death Zone” for striking down participants.

It was as hot as I had ever been in my 40 years of going to Death Valley. Kari Marchant informed me that her van sensor reached 135 degrees. Besides that, the humidity was relatively high at probably 25%. So the heat index figured into the situation. [After the Race, Jay Anderson reported 139!]. I had heard that employees at SPW were sweltering and one had to be evacuated to the hospital for IV’s. Runners and crewmembers were being shuttled to rooms (MASH Units) at SPW for medical and paramedic evaluations and for IV’s. Forty percent of the responses were for crewmembers.

As I was being “put down” in the van, I felt as if I were about to undergo anesthesia either for electroshock therapy or for an operation. I thought I was still rational and also felt that my body temperature was up. Usually I don’t tolerate a slight fever, when I am “normal” and am often at 96 degrees. The sun was behind the clouds by then but that didn’t seem to help. I put in a request to be taken from the 35-mile mark to SPW to have my temperature taken. (The rectal thermometer had exploded in my pocket protector earlier). The reading was 101 plus. I began imagining angels were coming to my rescue and that I was at the Garden of Gethsemane. Mary Magdalene was there too. An Igloo ice chest turned into a sarcophagus. Next it seemed as if I were being prepared for embalming. I was wrapped in cold towels and packed with ice bags. A picture taken when reviewed later made it seem as if I were being wrapped in the Shroud of Turin. When I came to, I looked for my imprint on the shroud but had trouble seeing it through the cataracts. The shroud is being saved for carbon dating in case the Messiah thing comes up. After my temperature dropped to 98.1, I asked to be dumped back on the course at the Scotty’s Castle turnoff (Yogi Berra’s fork in the road). I lasted two more miles.

Several weeks earlier I did a coroner’s autopsy on a 79-year old tourist who had dropped dead between the Devil’s Cornfield and the SPW dunes when it was 115 degrees. I am the only autopsy surgeon in Inyo and Mono Counties and decided that I didn’t want to do an autopsy on myself. I was afraid I would wake up while making the “Y-shaped” incision. I did notice that I had cadaver legs at that point. I pulled myself at 37 miles and 17 hours. I had gone a forth of the way in a third of the time. I could tell that other runners were going down for the count. I had no idea what was going on ahead or behind me.

Needless to say, I was disappointed at withdrawing from the Race. It was a voluntary decision. I looked at the list later of those who dnf’d and feel that I am in good company. There were 26 of us out of 73 starters. I am amazed at the performances of those who continued and finished especially in buckle-time. All but one woman finished. 

A lot of things went through my mind during the Race and in the days afterwards.

01) I decided to follow full disclosure strategy #3 (death therapy) and figure out the many ways I could stay alive. The main way was to withdraw.

02)  It was hotter than ever out there. Kari Marchant’s van registered 135. I heard of a high of 139 (Jay Anderson) and many van thermal sensors pegged out at 130 degrees.  I am not sure what the official reading will turn out to be but there were no official devices at the “hill” above sea level between 31 and 35 miles. My body temperature was over 101. Retiring and being ice-bagged could cool me down but this was taking too much time and I still overheated. The humidity was probably over 25% and the heat index was in effect. In addition the winds started blasting later in the day. I did not put on the inline skates and deploy the parasail but it was tempting.

03)  I was hearing that long-time employees at Stovepipe Wells (SPW) were suffering in the unusual heat and one had to be hospitalized. The paramedics were busy giving IV’s to runners and to crew members as well. One needed six liters. There was no extra space at SPW for victims to be triaged.

04)  Where I quit was at 37 miles at the Devil’s Cornfield and SPW dunes. This is where a 79-year old tourist dropped dead three weeks ago of heat stroke when the temperature was 115. I did the coroner’s autopsy on him. I always learn a lesson from every case. I also had cadaver legs by then. They seemed like spindles. All of the subcutaneous tissues had disappeared which impressed me.

05)  I probably was having hallucinations or some kind of dream state. When I would lie down voices would become distant. As I was being iced and rubbed down I felt as if I were being prepared for electroshock therapy, some kind of operation, or even embalming. It was déjà vu all over again. I was at the Garden of Gethsemene, angels were floating around, and I thought I saw Mary Magdalene (names and places altered to protect the innocent).

06)  As I was being cooled down I had a vision of being wrapped in the Shroud of Turin. There is a picture documenting this (I think). One of the Igloo ice chests turned into a sarcophagus as another choice. I later looked at the shroud and thought I saw my imprint on it. I saved the shroud for carbon dating in case the Messiah thing comes up

07)  I saw a case of soda explode when it slipped out of the back of a van.

08)  The gel capsules were melting in the containers and were fusing to each other.

09)  I ate a bite of tainted turkey sandwich earlier. When I gagged on some fused capsules I threw up and felt much better. This performance induced vomiting for one of the crewmembers.

10)   Later in my race, I noticed that the puddle of urine on the ground was not very large even though I thought I was peeing a fairly large amount. Later I discovered why.

11)  Large swaths of yellow crystals caked the insides of my solar protective pants. I did also not like the brown skid marks, which were accumulating, inside my underwear. When putting underwear back on I recalled the old saying. “Yellow in front and brown in back.”

12)  I heard that Uday and Qusay had gotten rubbed out in an overkill operation and I became interested in reviewing the autopsy report and photos provided to the world.

13)  Ice was running out and many had to drive about 100 miles either to Beatty, Trona, or Lone Pine to replenish supplies.

 Most of the above reasons are serious and some are obviously facetious confused by fact and fantasy.

 PART III

 POST RACE ACTIVITIES

“Now the Fun Starts”

I would like at this time to again thank my wife for helping me get trough the Races from Badwater to the top of Whitney in 1991, 1992 and 1993. Without her I would not have had those successes in the earlier years. I now have a 50% success rate with failures in 1994, 1996 and now this year. I am not unhappy this year as I felt I gave it my best while under intense scrutiny but I know I let a lot of people down by not finishing. I thank my crew:

01)  Denise Jones, Badwater veteran, First Lady of Badwater, and Blister Queen

02)  Dave Thorpe, Badwater veteran, who has been with me every year.

03)  Katie Rose Thorpe, Dave’s daughter, age 19, who helped me also in the earlier years.

04)  John Rosmus, Badwater veteran

05)  Rick Nawrocki, Badwater veteran and cancer survivor

06)  Brian Troupin, son of my neuropsychiatrist, and insomniac and night driver.

 My team heard  an echo emanating from the sarcophagus. Someone took the lid off and I climbed out on Wednesday morning 07-23-2003. The seven of us stumbled over each other in our room at SPW for a while. I staggered outside into a frenzy of swarming locust. It was like a pestilence. (The bugs were actually dragonflies). Besides that the sky seemed ominous with black clouds and threatening rain and thundershowers. It seemed as if Armageddon were about to happen or had already happened. We decided to pull out and cruise the course in our three different vehicles. As I went up to Towne Pass the first one I saw was Jay Birmingham. I was really pleased to have met him after all of these years and was happy to see him still in the Race. There were at least twenty runners between there and Panamint Springs Resort (PSR). I would have loved to be in their midst.

At Panamint we congratulated all of those who had made it that far and were about to proceed. I had a chance to more formally meet some of the crewmembers. Denise went to various rooms to examine and patch up some feet and get them going again. We proceeded westward seeing those brave souls trudging and some even running up the west Panamint grade. At Padre Crowley I bumped into Chris Frost and his three vehicles. I visited with him briefly the day before at around 30 miles where he informed me that he was feeling great and was two hours ahead of last year. This was rather demoralizing to me at the time but I was really happy for him irregardless. He was on the cell phone with his office in Malibu probably clinching some real estate deals.

The Darwin time station race data was interesting as it was being timed on Darwin-time, which is twelve hours different from the rest of  he west coast. I tried to do some interpolating and extrapolating to figure things out so I could present realistic data to the webcast room at the Dow Villa in Lone Pine.

Many other runners were between Darwin and Lone Pine as I went by. It was great seeing how well the lead runners were doing after 24+ hours. Monica Scholz and Chris Bergland looked good at Keeler and Dolomite respectively. Pam Reed and Dean Karnazes were on the Portal Road and looked awesome. I was proud to be at the finish line when they arrived.

Later in the day (Wednesday – day #2) I doubled back out on the course and checked on the middle-of-the-pack runners. By then the sky exhibited one of the prettiest sunsets I have witnessed in Owens Valley and the Sierra. I thanked the Lone Pine Chamber of Commerce for this wonderful display to which was added rain showers and colorful clouds. In the meantime Denise was still checking on feet and Dave and Katie were delivering Popsicles and distributing our leftover ice. We all praised their efforts and encouraged them on.

Early the next morning (Thursday - Day #3) I headed back out on the course to the back-of-the-pack runners. It seemed as if some would not get to the Portals within the 60-hour cutoff. Fortunately I was wrong and was very impressed with their fortitude. We all did the same things as before. Rick Nawrocki paced Ken Eielson who had paced him the year before. John Rosmus got our rented van spic and span and ready for return to the rental place in Bishop and then he had to depart for home.

Later in the day we all went back to the Portals to witness many more finishes, which were all dramatic. Going back down the Portal Road I informed the final runners how much further they had to go and how many minutes-per-mile had to be done according to my pace chart in order to break 60 hours. I think most of them appreciated these facts.

The multipurpose room at the Lo-Inyo School in Lone Pine was packed for the dinner and awards ceremony. Denise and I were proud to be on the same stage with Pam Reed, Dean Karnazes, Jay Birmingham, and Gary Morris. Each was presented with a petroglyph representing life in the area before the white man.

The next morning we had a nice breakfast at Seasons Restaurant provided by Jeff and Trina Tropple who are great supporters of the Badwater Ultramarathon.

Things really got quiet the next few days as the stragglers dropped by to bid farewell until next year. We always enjoy Marshall Ulrich and his performances on the course. I met his new wife, Heather, for the first time and she is a charming person. Art Webb told us about his segmental approach to the course this year. Adam Bookspan, along with David and Curt, has some secret plans for assaulting the desert again.

Many emails have been coming in about the Race. I am still in the process of reviewing all of the pictures on the website. Now I am looking forward to the CBS coverage and the David Letterman Show even though I was not invited.

My rectal thermometer exploded near the Beatty turnoff. I still have some unused garlic suppositories for those interested. The John Deere suspenders got a little stretched.

I would be interested in any astute observations about my partially true and partially fictitious story. Please send any comments but don’t let them lead to a recall for Mayor of Badwater or I’ll fight like a Bengal tiger (Gray Davis quote for those out-of-state people and foreigners). Any stories and/or pictures would be welcome.

Sincerely (sort of),

Ben Jones

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