Articles, tips, miscellany
The Hood-To-Coast Adventure
by Jim Faurote, Frontrunners/Frontwalkers Chicago
On a cool, cloudy evening I arrived in Portland, Oregon with a mixture of excitement, anxiety, and fear. The excitement part derived from my impending participation in the largest relay race in the world, the Hood To Coast race. The anxiety and fear emotions derived from the fact that I would be doing the race with 11 other team members, from the Portland Frontrunners group, and the question of whether I could bond with them as we were matched up via the Internet only a month or two before. A long story in itself. Anyway, as it happened there was plenty of excitement with a great group of teammates and tireless drivers.
After checking into the airport Marriott hotel I went to the prerace party with a contingent from the Baylands group. I was quickly introduced to perhaps eight of my teammates for the next two day 191-mile adventure. After being welcomed to the group they regaled me with stories of past "HTC" adventures and informed me of what I will be seeing and experiencing (i.e. "your second leg is considered the ugliest leg of the race").
Thus, the next morning Tamara, a friendly outgoing Portland FR who ran the HTC with one of the Baylands teams, came by the hotel at 9 AM sharp to pick me up and deliver me to my vanmates for the next 24 hours or so. We had an interesting conversation, one that would be repeated a few times with other Portlanders, concerning the battle, which some Portland FRs were active in including Tamara, against recent very anti-gay ballot measures sponsored by the OCA. Probably more than anywhere else in the country gay people in Oregon have been under siege because of these hateful measures but fortunately the majority of people in the state are rational enough to ensure their defeat. Meanwhile, Portland is considered an oasis of tolerance in an otherwise conservative state.
Soon enough our van was on its way up to Timberline Lodge on the slopes of Mt. Hood. Perhaps 90 minutes later and 6,600 feet higher we pulled into the van-filled parking lot. Getting out the air was noticeably more chill and thinner. With only 15 minutes to spare before our allotted 11:45 A.M. start time we posed for a set of quick, informal group photos. With 800 teams in the race the start times were at 15 minute intervals from 9:30 AM to 9:00 P.M. and a team's start time was based on the submitted estimated finish time. The faster your estimated time the later you start. Needless to say Portland FRs considered themselves a slow group and being a slow runner myself I guess I was compatible in that area.
The start gun went off and our first runner Steve went full-throttle down Mt. Hood and I was scheduled for the first hand-off of the baton. Thus, the rest of us got in the van and hurried to the exchange point. Soon enough there was me standing at the side of the road poised to take the baton and with the hand-off from Steve I continued our downward descent doing 5.6 miles of consistent downhill through the beautiful, rugged wilderness scenery receiving cheers from our van on its way down to the next exchange point and one of the Baylands vans on its way up to Timberline. However, my legs were feeling the strain of all this downhill stuff and I wanted to get this leg over with. After 45 minutes I handed off to our third runner Dave. However, there was never much time to dawdle as after getting a quick drink and toweling off we piled again into the van and headed down to the next exchange point. This routine continued for the next three runners before we pulled into a grassy lot next to a Safeway about 25 miles outside of Portland. That was where we rendezvoused with the other van in our team. There were a few minutes to go over our completed runs before our last runner handed off to the first runner from the other van.
We were thus finished for about five hours. During this stretch our wonderful driver Deborah took us to her home in Portland where there were mounds of pasta waiting. After the pasta feed she then let us shower and sack out for the next two hours which I had no difficulty in doing. At 8:30 PM we were then woken up and were shortly on our way to our next rendezvous with the other van near downtown Portland. After Steve took the baton to begin the second part of the race we were on our way to the industrial outskirts of the city where I was to do my second leg. Pulling into the huge parking lot of a paper mill Deborah parked us in between the "Saints on Fire" and "Sandy Church of Christ" vans. The noxious odors emanating from the paper mill added to this somewhat surreal effect. Armed with flashlight and wearing a reflective vest I thus ran this next 6.2 mile leg past the paper mill, lumberyards, railroad yards, and an oil refinery. I imagined being back in Northwest Indiana. Fortunately, it was all flat but it was still the slowest of the three legs for me.
The night progressed and by 1:30 A.M. we were in this grassy fairgrounds parking lot waiting to hand off again to Jerry in the second van. The temperature had dropped dramatically after nightfall and I was not well prepared for the 45-50 degree weather.
After Jerry took the baton I was relieved to get back in the van where a suggestion was made to do a quick "pancake feed" 15 miles back in Scappoose. Sure enough there was an all-you-can eat pancake benefit for $3 at an outdoor rest area. After hastily eating we then slept for the next two hours.
A couple of hours later Deborah again roused everyone out of their slumber and we were quickly on our way to meet the other van. However, the roads soon became narrow and winding and we were eventually stuck in van gridlock. After finally reaching the parking area I was rather shocked to see Roger, in stoic anger standing there, in 45 degree weather wearing only shorts and tank-top, wondering where we have been for the last half-hour. That was the most glaring snafu in the race for us and the "pancake feed" mentioned above was a rather sensitive subject in that van.
Still cold and groggy, it was soon my turn to run the third and last leg. Taking the baton for the last time from Steve I set out on this 5.7 mile leg past a hilly mixture of conifer forest and pastureland. Most of this leg was moderately uphill but I did not care as I was running to stay warm and to accomplish my goal of finishing the HTC. It had warmed a little but it was still cool and overcast. Coming into the exchange area I could see Dave scrambling to get in position as they had not expected me to finish so soon given the hills involved.
The last few legs went by in a blur with only one minor exchange snafu as Raymond, our last runner, missed the hand-off from Richard by about five minutes. Soon we were on our way to Seaside to check into the Windjammer, a dreary and depressing motel, to shower and get some quick rest before meeting the rest of the team at the finish line on the beach nearby. We almost missed Roger, our last runner, again but made it in time to get our official team photo taken and receive our medals.
We had finished the HTC and it was time to celebrate. Some of us later went back to the beach where a large HTC party was taking place and later at night crammed into the back of a pickup and drove to another beach and drank and celebrated under the stars.
On Sunday morning most of us went to do brunch at this wonderful restaurant on a golf course with a beautiful sunny view of the Coast mountains nearby. Thus, a final hour or two of both serious and not-so-serious conversation in a small group setting until it was time to head back to Portland. Yes, it is demanding and grueling but yes, finances permitting, I would fly across the continent and do it again next year.