RUBEN CANTU: BADWATER 2000 STORY

 

Badwater to Whitney and

Then Summit

 

July 27 to 30, 2000

Ruben R. Cantu

Bib No. 6

42:53:25

This is my story:

     My
adventure with the Sun Precautions 2000 Badwater Ultramarathon commenced
about two years ago.  A friend,

"H.E."
West, who I thought was my friend, suggested I try running Badwater, since I
had just run Angeles Crest for the second time.  I immediately notified
him
he was absolutely nuts.  Only certified loony people would try
something so
crazy.

     Well,
after two years of the idea sinking in and after reading the book, “The
Death Valley 300," by Richard Benyo. It had been loaned to me by Mike
Devlin, another so-called friend. After reading it, I was convinced I had to
try it.  Then, I read somewhere that the race is not complete without a
Mt.
Whitney summit. This completes the lowest to highest trek.  Being of
the
ultrarunner mentality, that was enough to convince me that I had to run
Badwater.  Now, the real trick was to convince my wife that I could
safely
run in
125-degree
weather without turning into a prune.

     Since
I had never crewed in Badwater and had no experience on the extreme
conditions in Death Valley, I needed information on how to train and
acclimate to the Death Valley environment.  My friend H.E.,
who several years ago crewed for the legendary Marshall Ulrich in Badwater,
suggested I contact Marshall for advice.  By phone Marshall provided me
with
invaluable information which I practiced religiously. 
      The
first thing I did was to see if I knew enough people who would be at least
half-crazy and convince them to come out and support me as part of my Death
Valley crew.  H.E.
was my first candidate. He had no choice as this whole thing was his
idea. 
I then recruited two people from my 1999 Leadville Trail 100 crew: Mike
Marcikonis and Kristin Birrenkott, both from the Denver area; a niece,
Monica Gonzales, from Houston (oh how innocent she was); and my best running
friend, Mike Devlin. H.E.
had
experience crewing for Marshall.

Mike Devlin, who got to know my every

whim by crewing for me at almost every training run,
gave me
confidence that I
had
an
excellent support team to get me through Death Valley.

     For
the Mt. Whitney summit my stepson Ric DeVan (who in June 2000 summitted
Denali in Alaska) would be the lead. Mike Devlin and Monica volunteered to
accompany me up to the summit.  As neither of them or I had ever
climbed Mt.

Whitney
before, that made three of the four of us never before having set foot on
the Whitney Trail.

     For
heat acclimatization, I trained for two-and-a-half months every Saturday in
the Southern California Anza Borrego Desert between Borrego Springs and the
Salton Sea.  I got to know State Highway 22 very well.  Driving to
and from
my training site in Borrego Springs, Mike Devlin and I would drive with the
heater on and the van totally closed-up.  The temperature would climb
into
the mid 120's with the highest temperature reaching 131 degrees.  We
would
maintain this heat training for up to two hours before and one hour after
our 5 to 7-hour desert training run.

     For
altitude acclimatization I only had time for one trip up Mt. San Jacinto,
near Idyllwild, California.  Mike Devlin, Ric and I climbed the 10,800
ft.
peak about three weeks prior to the run.  Not that I considered the
Whitney
summit attempt easy. It was just that completing the run was much more
important to me so I concentrated and devoted my time towards that effort.

    
Feeling prepared and the eventual start drawing near, I felt pretty
confident I was ready for Badwater.  However, all this confidence went
out
the window on our drive to Furnace Creek on Wednesday July 26th,
the day before the start of the run.  The long drive down from Father
Crowley to Panamint Valley and again from Townes Pass down to Stovepipe
Wells coupled with the hot and dry wind after the pre-race meeting the
evening of the 26th totally blew a big hole in my psyche.  I was
emotionally devastated but chose to not share my fears and did not alert my
crew.

     Until
now, my goal had been to do the run in 40 to 45 hours.  This would get
me to
the Portals and the finish on Friday evening to early Saturday
morning. 
After the race I would sleep for three to four hours and then attempt the
summit very early Saturday morning. I was hoping to reach the summit in
about 10 hours, by around 6:00 PM.  This would give me a total goal of
60
hours to go from Badwater to the summit.  It seemed very doable to
me.  But
the evening before the run, after my psyche had been blown away, I just
wanted to survive the run in a respectable time, forget the
"buckle," and
just get to the Portals alive. Too late to do any more.  I resigned
myself
to just do my best on race day.

     As
the run unfolded the next morning, I found myself feeling very confident
again, yet cautious, about my fitness.   My crew was very
supportive and
encouraging.  I went out on a 12-minute- per- mile pace to Furnace
Creek to
"put some time in the bank" for later when the temperature was
sure to

surpass

the 113
degrees in which I had been training and the current 100 degrees at the
start.  I reached Furnace Creek (17 miles) on schedule (around 9:30 AM)
and
still felt very fresh and strong.  But best of all, I had
"banked" over two
hours.

     The
stretch between
Furnace Creek

and
Stovepipe Wells was no surprise.  The temperature went up as expected
but
was never a real threat.  My crew kept me cool by providing me with ice
cold, wet towels and ice packs for my head and shoulders.  I slowed
down as
expected but still managed to bank a little more time for the trip up to
Townes Pass.  I reached Stovepipe Wells (41 miles) by 3:46 PM. 
The
highlight of this section was catching-up with my hero Marshall Ulrich and
getting my picture taken with him.  Naturally he did not stay passed
for
long, as he disappeared into the sunset going up toward Townes Pass.

     When
I finally reached the top of Townes Pass at around 10:30 PM, I started
feeling the effects of the day's hot sun.  It had taken a toll and I
started
to feel quite tired and sleepy.  We decided that a 30-minute nap would
provide the rest I needed, so I climbed into the RV and passed out for 30
minutes.  I woke up feeling much better and resumed the run down into
Panamint Valley.  This is where the fun begins.

     Once
we got halfway down the west side of Townes Pass, we saw some lights. I
thought it was Panamint Springs Resort (72 miles). As we continued, the
lights were not getting any closer.  I had expected the time station to
be
at the bottom of the Valley but, as I found out, it was at the 2000-foot
level on the west side of the Valley.  Just when my body was ready for
another rest stop, I found out we had four long miles to go.

     I
wanted to reach the time station and check in before I rested so that, if
any of my family and friends were tracking me on the web, they would know
where I was before I took my next planned 30-minute nap.  Well, as the
lights were not getting any nearer, sleep deprivation hit me and the
hallucinations started.  The small hills and sand mounds near the road
became Quonset huts which kept track of me and would not go away. 
Then, as
I ran along the white line to keep me going straight, the line became a
walking stick. It was painted in multi-colors sort of barber-pole
style. 
The stick did not have a handle as it disappeared behind me into the
darkness, but the tip did have a black cap to keep the stick from wearing
out, of course.  It too kept track of me as I progressed toward the
lights
which would not get closer.  I was aware that I was seeing things which
were
not really there, but my eyes would not phase them out. 
I might have suffered some sunburn on my eyes.
What kept
me going was my willingness to reach the Panamint Valley time station. My
crew supplied me with ice

water

soaked
towels for my face every half
mile. 
Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, at around 3:20 AM Friday, I
did reach the lights and was rewarded with

another
30-minute
 nap.  Arguably, my crew chief wanted me to spend a full hour, but I
threatened him with something. Whatever it was, it worked as he woke me up
in a half-

hour.

     I had
planned another 30-minute break at the Darwin turnoff (90 miles) at 10:00
AM, but
I

felt so good after the sunrise that I did not need it.  It was at this
time
I started feeling very confident that I would not only finish in a
respectable time but would also buckle.  I just did not know how much
time I
would have to rest before the summit attempt.

     We
passed the 100-mile marker around 1:00 PM 31 hours into the run. My son Ric
joined us shortly thereafter.   His presence was a big boost to my
morale. 
I had a great crew to this point, but having him along with the rest of the
crew made my party complete.  Thanks to modern technology and cell
phones, I
was able to contact my wife in Santee,
California a couple of times
during the run.  Those conversations were very uplifting and a major
boost
to my reserve.  The Badwater Webcast was great in keeping our families
and
friends aware of the runners' progress throughout the run.  Thanks
Chris
Kostman and his brother, Keith.

     The
course from Darwin turnoff (90 miles) to Lone Pine (122 miles) was typically
long and boring but not very hot. I was concerned about the smoke down from
the Inyo County forest fire in the southern High Sierra, but the smoke
stayed up high but the ash rained down.

At this time, we dispatched Mike Devlin

and Monica to go get some rest as they were integral members of the summit
attempt. We wanted them as rested as possible. As for me,
I
just had to keep moving and, before I knew it, we were near Lone Pine. My
son and I decided to make a game of it and ran quite hard for that stage of
the run trying to reach Highway 395 by 7:00 PM.  We did not quite make
it,
but we were in Lone Pine by 7:20 PM.  After a wrong turn trying to find
the
time station there at the Dow Villa, we finally found it by 7:50 PM and
started up Whitney Portal Road.  This is another place where I had more
vision fun.

    
Heading up Portal Road through the famous Alabama Hills as the sun started
 to set; I kept seeing different animals on the side of the trail: I saw a
big hippopotamus
with its mouth wide open,
baby elephants, and an assortment of different animal caricatures.  I
knew I
was seeing things but could not focus enough to get the hallucinations out
of my vision.  I had to shine a light on the rocks and bushes to
discern
that what I was seeing were in fact not real animals.  Ric had a good
laugh
on me
and later I would have a laugh on him.
The
weirdest hallucination

happened
between
Ric and me
as we walked/ran up the flat section of the Portal Road. 
I could see a concrete wall running
straight
forward from us along our direction of travel.  Ric was walking right
through it and I kept telling him I knew the wall was not really there but I
could see it plain as day, it seemed so real.

     The
road leading up to the finish was long

and tough
and
although I "could smell the barn," it seemed as if the last two
miles would
never end.   Sometime during the climb up the Portal Road, Chris
Kostman
joined us far a short walk.  It was really nice of him to spend some
time
with the runners approaching the finish.  I guess we were spread out
enough
so that he could afford the time away from the finish area.
All of my crew joined me on the final approach. It was quite an emotional
time for all of us and the exhilaration of finishing in such good time
(42:53:25) was overwhelming. 

     We
celebrated for a short while. Then Monica drove me into Lone Pine for a
shower and some sleep in a hotel.  We had initially hoped to depart for
the
Whitney summit around 4:00 AM Saturday, but, by the time we drove to Lone
Pine, checked into our room and showered it was almost 3:00 AM.  I left
a
wake-up call for 4:00 AM at the hotel;
I think I heard a snicker from the hotel clerk. 
We returned to the Portals at around 5:00 AM, where we woke up the rest of
the crew, packed our bags. Ric, Mike Devlin, Monica and I departed on the
Whitney trail at around 6:20 AM.  It was a late start but it was the
earliest we could leave considering I was only able to get one full hour of
sleep.
     
During most of the climb, Monica, with no prior experience in
mountaineering,
did a great job of pace
setting
for the team
going
up the
mountain.  We made really good time on the trail until we got to Trail
Camp.  From there on up, the climb became a little more challenging. It
was

more like a death

march to me. 
However, at Trail Camp I was able to rest for about 15 minutes while Ric and
Mike filtered water and filled our water bottles.

     The
climb up the 99 switchbacks was extremely tiring to Trail Crest, but we were
able to continue without too much trouble.  Several times we discussed
our
chances of reaching the summit safely with plenty of daylight left.  At
around 4:00 PM
we conferred and

decided
to set a
turn around
deadline at

a certain
time. This would be at 7:30PM. We would turn around then, if we were not
close enough to make it to the summit and back to the Trail Crest area by
dark.  As I heard Ric say several times, "summiting is optional,
getting
down is not." The tough part along

the back
section
of the climb
is being in eye contact with the hut at the summit, but the

hut does
not seem to get any nearer as you slowly progress toward it. We pushed on
with pulling and crawling until finally we persevered in making the summit
around 6:19 PM.  We had plenty of daylight left for pictures, a quick
celebration, and then started back down.

     We
made it back to the top of the switchbacks (Trail Crest) just before total
darkness.  The hike back down in the dark

was
challenging, to say the least.   This was especially so in the
snowy part
about a third of the way down the switchbacks where the trail was completely
covered with snow. This forced us to take very short steps to traverse from
one switchback to the other. 
     

After 60 plus hours with only about two hours of sleep, total to date, and
about 150 miles on my feet, my legs were not very steady. This was the time
where Ric's mountaineering experience became invaluable.

He safely guided us back down through the

darkness.

     This was also

Mike's and Monica's turn to hallucinate.  At one point Monica would not go
forward for fear of a snake she swore was on the trail in front of her.  Ric
had
to convince her that snakes did not exist this high up.  Shortly thereafter,
she
screamed and jumped. I thought she had stumbled only to find out she saw a man
jump out from behind a rock.   Sometime during this period Mike had his
turn at
hallucinating.  He could not remember who he was with or what our names were.
We
got back down to Trail Camp around 11:00 PM Saturday night.  On the way up
Ric
had setup a bivy sack with a sleeping bag for me to rest in on the return
trip. 
When we got there the setup was as welcomed as a Holiday Inn to me.  I laid
in
it and immediately passed out for about 45 to 50 minutes.  This was to be our
last rest stop until we returned to the Portals at 4:05 AM Sunday morning, about
70 hours and 157 miles since we left Badwater Thursday at 6:00AM.  The race
was
over, the climb was over and I was too tired to enjoy it.

     On our ride down

the Portals Road, our team's hallucinations completed the rounds.  I was
asleep
in the back of Ric's truck while he drove us down to our hotel.  His
hallucinations were of people out in the street.  He wondered what so many
people were doing out at after 4:00 AM Sunday morning.  Some even tried
crossing
the street in front of his truck. Mike and Monica were keeping him company and
were witnesses to his visions.  When this was related to me the next day it
was
my turn to laugh at him.

     Now that the race

and summit are over I find myself very happy and satisfied with my performance
and the support I received from my wonderful crew, my family and my friends.
Thanks to Chris Kostman and his staff for a great race.  I am sure all the
time
he spent setting up the race was well worth his time. Even though I barely met
Ben Jones, I certainly felt his presence throughout the race, so thank you. 
I
only regret not having had the opportunity to meet the First Lady of Badwater,
Denise Jones, and to spend more time at the finish and at the awards ceremony to
express my gratitude and meet the rest of Chris' cast.

     My friends and

family keep asking what is next?  I do not have an answer but I do know that
I
will not listen to my "friend" H.E. anymore.

Ruben Cantu