Badwater Forum

Thanks Marcia!

I see your getting a little bit closer to Barkley.  :-\

The Barkley's like nothing else. Truly one of a kind. Can't wait to get back

TrailTramp,

I've been to Barkley twice; in 05 and 06.  I've yet to complete even one loop. Farthest I've made it was about 14 miles before finding my way back to camp on the jeep roads through the mountains.  I know that sounds hard to believe, but until you've been there, you can't possibly understand. It's like trying to describe the Pacific ocean to someone blind from birth.

Both years it was a combination of not only the terrain, but the weather that did me in. In 05 it was near blizzard conditions on the mountain tops and in 06 it was just too hot for me and I let myself get way to dehydrated. Remember, there are no aid stations to replenish with.

I was accepted back this year, but unfortunately, family obligations are keeping me away. I hope to return in 08.

Yes, recieved ours too! I can take 4 people up on the 25th for a day hike. Or 2 up on the 26th. Haven't recieved any info on the overnight passes I applied for.

Congrats!!!

Oh yes, I've read most of Rich's accounts. I ran with him a liitle in 05 & 06. He mentions me, though inacurately in his 05 report. Talked about a Polarbear getting lost. I'm Polarbear. He said it was simply poetic liscense.  ;)

I think the hardest thing about Barkley (Fight Club) isn't the fact that you have to navigate with compass and topo map (I'm an expert navigator), but to me, the thing that makes Barkley so hard is the relentless climbing in soft, soggy, mulchy terrain at extremly steep angles. You know, if you manage to complete a 100 miles there, you climbed over 55,000 ft. That's 50% more than even Hardrock. And about 40,000ft more than Badwater, in 35 fewer miles. The terrain and climbs are just beyond description. All the while fighting your way through thick brush/sawbriers, etc. In usually horrible weather, on an unmarked course with usually no decernable trail and no aid stations other than a few jugs of water left lying in a ditch at 8 miles (coffin springs) and again at about 12 miles.  I've already broken the first rule of Fight Club, which is, never talk about Fight Club.

100 miles in 60 hours. All you need to is about  36 minute miles. Easy right?   :o

My 05 report: Keep in mind, in 05 there was about 53,000 ft of climb. In 06 and now it's closer to 55,000ft.

When the Conch Blows

Barkley race report, 2005

A gust of wind came charging up the north face of the mountain.  We could hear it coming before it reached us.  When it did reach us, we could feel ourselves growing slightly lighter as the wind tried to pick us up.  The forecast called for wind gusts of 50 mph and I believe this one was close to that.  When we finally crested this particular mountain the snow on the ground was about 6 to 8 inches deep and we were being pelted by blowing sleet.  It was stinging my face and there seemed to be no escape.  I was so cold.

I first learned of the Barkley not long after I began trail running back in 2001.  I read an article in Trail Runner's magazine about it titled something along the lines of "Can anyone survive this insanity?"  At the time I was so new to trail running.  I had just learned there were races over the marathon distance going all the way up to 100 miles and beyond.  I couldn't even begin to imagine such a thing.  The Barkley immediately caught my attention because it was on an unmarked course in the mountains of Tennessee and required the racer to be at least somewhat proficient in land navigation using a topographical map and compass. Land navigation has been a passion of mine, trail running was quickly becoming another and this race offered both.

The Barkley is described as one of the toughest 100 milers in the world.  Their all different and tough in there own way.  Two that come to mind are the Hardrock 100 in the top of the Rockies in Colorado and the 135 mile Badwater in Death Valley.  If you go by the actual finishing rates, The Barkley wins hands down.

The Barkley is composed of five 20 mile loops around the perimeter of Frozen Head State Park and Natural area in the Smokey Mountains of TN.  It also has a 60 mile "Fun Run" consisting of three 20 mile loops.  To date only 6 people have managed to complete the 100 mile race since it's inception in 1986.  That's less than 1%.  The 60 mile fun run doesn't fare much better boasting only a 10% finishing rate.   The cutoffs for the 100 mile race are 12 hours per loop.  The 60 mile "fun run" has a cutoff of 40 hours, or 13:20 per loop.  To prove you completed each loop, you must find 10 books at various points along the course and return a page from each book.  The course is unmarked; there are no aid stations except for some water jugs laid out at the 8 and 12 miles points.  Much of the course there really has no visible trail at all; this is where land navigation skills are a must.  The course is filled with blow downs you must crawl under or over.  But the hardest part to me  is the climbs.  It has 52,900 feet of climb (and 52,900 feet of descent), more than any other 100 mile race, more than the 33,000 ft. of climb at the Hardrock.  For some reason, this just doesn't register with people.  The difficulty in these climbs is indescribable.  Their composed of a never ending series of switchbacks that seem to go on forever. The hill sides are so steep that much of the time you are literally walking on the sides of your feet.  Add to that slipping down the hill sides in the mud and you begin to get the picture.

The Barkley only allows 35 racers per year.  The race is not advertised, nor is the race date published.  It's like a snipe hunt trying to get enough info to get in. Fortunately for me I have a buddy (Joe Prusaitis) that has been there twice.  I managed to get a hold of the race directors e-mail address.  You have to write an essay stating why you think you should be allowed to run the Barkley.  I guess the RD liked mine because I got in.  The race is usually held on April Fools Day weekend.  This year that would be Sat. April 2nd through the 4th. 

I got in the truck and headed out for the 1100 mile drive on Wed.  After 16 hours on the road I arrived at the park and set up camp on Friday around noon.  I met Laz the RD and signed in.  The evening before the race the weather started turning worse with some heavy rain and colder temps in the high 40's. At about 6 pm a big wind came blowing through the canyon. We could hear it coming long before it reached us. When it did reach us it signaled its arrival with what sounded like two cannon shots. The sound was caused by the snapping of 2 tall Birch trees. That night while laying in my tent the rain started coming down really hard. There was plenty of thunder and lightning and the rain on my tent sounded like someone was frying bacon on it. Or that I was inside a big Jiffy Pop popcorn popper.  I sure hoped no trees would come crashing down on us.

The racers don't know the start time. When you hear a  blow from a conch shell that means the race starts in one hour.  I heard the conch at 7:20  By 8:15 we were all gathered around the trailhead waiting for the starting gun, which at the Barkley is the lighting of a cigar.  Laz lit it up and we took off like a herd of turtles up the first of many climbs.  This first one being Bird Mountain.  Only a couple hundred yards up the trail and we're crossing over what is normally a little creek. Today is was a full fledged mountain river and quite beautiful.

The crowd thinned pretty quickly and before long I found myself alone near the back of the middle pack.  Before the race I had to decide if I was going to try and stay with one of the veterans that knew the course and the risk of going too fast and rely on his navigation or just do my own thing and relay on myself.  I decided to trust only my navigation and no one else's. 

By the time I was about ½ way up this first 1600 ft. climb up Bird Mountain I started feeling tiny bits of sleet every now and again.  About ¾ of the way up the snow started falling very light.  It was beautiful against the dark greens of the forest and waterfalls.  Near the top of Bird Mountain there's a trail to the left we're supposed to take and we were warned that it's very easy to miss.  I almost did miss it due to the snow.  When I crested Bird Mountain the wind hit me like a sledgehammer.  I mean it was howling.  The snow was coming down in big swirls.  It was a real adventure... Going down the other side you follow a long draw in the mountain side.  Because of all the recent rains lately this draw was basically a 1600 ft. series of waterfalls.  It was truly beautiful.

I found book one with no problem.  Can't remember the title exactly, but it was something like "A false Sense of Security".  From book one you turn east and go over a series of four more big climbs beginning with Jury Ridge.  I turned the bevel on my compass to east and looked.  This can't be right I thought.  Just on the other side of the draw, which was  a pretty good flowing river right now, the ground immediately in front of me went almost straight up into the dense fog about 500 ft. above.  How the hell am I supposed to get up that I wondered? About this time 3 more runners came up to book one. One of which was an old time veteran. He knew the way up. Just around a large boulder was the beginning of a series of switchbacks working their way up the mountain side. I followed these 3 Billy goats for a while but I kept falling farther and farther behind. Finally they were out of site and once again I was on my own. That was ok with me as I don't like to try and match someo ne else's pace. I was now on the famous North Boundary Trail. Apparently this trail was blazed way back in the early 20th century. Around 1930 the group that was responsible for maintaining it dissolved and the trail has been unmaintained ever since. Most of the time it's very hard to pick out any sign of trail at all. I felt like I was in the land that time forgot. One of the park rangers later told me that no one ever goes to the north boundary except the runners from this race.  It was so beautiful. Water falls every where. Cascading for hundreds of feet. All along this north boundary the brush was incredibly thick in places. You just had to bull your way through it. Blow downs were everywhere. You either had to climb up and over them or belly crawl underneath in the mud. Many were too big to go over. On more than one occasion I would come to a blow down, crawl under in the mud, go another 20 feet only to discover the path switched back in the opposite direction and I ha d to once again crawl under the same blow down only 20 feet higher up the side of the mountain. Not long after cresting Jury Ridge I saw a fella standing up ahead with a deer in the headlights look. He was one of the three that had recently passed me. He asked if I was in the race. He told me that his "partner" had out paced him and that he didn't have a map. And that even if he had a map and compass, he didn't know how to use them. I was somewhat shocked that someone would come out here so unprepared. I told him he could follow me. He stuck to me like glue.

Now let me tell you about these climbs. I've studied the Barkley for 4 years now. I've talked about it many times with Joe (who's been there twice). I've read every race report and course description I could get my hands on. Everyone has told me that there are not really words to describe just how difficult these climbs are, that you just have to experience it. Well, I can now echo those same thoughts. I thought I could imagine really steep and difficult climbs and I expected the worse. My only expectations for Barkley were to experience pain, suffering and humiliation. Boy was I right. These climbs were much worse than even the badest climbs I could conjure up in my imagination. By the time I made it to the top of Jury Ridge I thought I would pass out. The grade was so steep that at many points along the course if I would just put my arms straight out in front of me they would touch the ground. Add to that the fact that the ground was very soft and muddy and would slide out from under you every other step it made for some very difficult and slow going.

Two more big climbs up to Bald Knob, down the other side of that and you reach SOB ditch;  10 feet wide and 10 feet deep. It was a real hoot trying to find a way across that.  After SOB Ditch you start another long and steep climb up to The Garden Spot where book 2 is located. By this point I was really getting cold. During the climbs up you were working so hard and expending so much energy you were sweating like a pig. Add to that the rain and I was soaking wet when I would get to the top, slow down and begin to freeze. From the bottom up you climbed through cold rain into sleet, followed by heavy snow. Near the tops the winds were blowing hard with gusts up to 50 mph. When we got to the Garden Spot I was so cold I couldn't open the plastic zip lock bag the book was in. While standing there trying to solve that problem we were being hit in the face by sleet being blown in those high winds. Man, that hurt. Thank goodness I thought to wear clear safety glasses. Then after finally  getting the book out of the bag we get hit by a hail storm. I couldn't believe it. What next I thought? Locust? A plague? I have to admit though, I was having fun. This was a real adventure. 

At this point me and the fella (Sam) that was with me, we were really cold. It had taken us 6.5 hours to go only 8 miles. You trail runners out there think about that. That is SLOW! We were both shivering so badly. Even though I wore thick running gloves with water proof Mountain Hardware shells over them, my gloves were soaking wet and my fingers had gone beyond hurting to becoming numb.  I was soaking wet all over even though I was wearing a Marmot rain jacket. Besides being physically exhausted, mentally I was finding it hard to concentrate on my map and it was very hard to manipulate my compass. I was starting to become concerned about our safety. We were after all in a wilderness area a long way from help. Another thing to think about was the fact that even if you do decide to drop anywhere along the course you still have to get yourself back to camp on your own. There are no aid stations to drop at and get a nice warm ride back. This was something I had to think about considering my current state. Just up the trail was Coffin Springs and the first water drop. From there you could get off the course and onto a jeep road that would wind its way for what I'm told is about 7 to 8 miles out of the mountains. To go on with the race meant climbing Stallion Mountain and then climbing down a steep and rocky draw along a cliff ledge to the New River. Then cross the New River and climb the much worse than I'd seen so far, Rat Jaw and Little Hell to the top of Lookout Mountain before reaching the next jeep road out. It was around 2:30 PM by this time, it was snowing, raining, sleeting and the occasional hail and winds gusting so fast. I was exhausted and hypothermic, but I wanted to go on. At Coffin Springs I found the water jugs full of slush and some other runners that had decided to bag it and get the hell off the mountain.  I wanted to get my backpack off and put on another jacket under my rain jacket and some water proof pants on over my soaked hiking pants. My fingers were so frozen I couldn't unclip my b ackpack.
It was so frustrating and seemed absurd to the point of making me laugh like an idiot.  I asked the group if anyone was willing to keep going with me. I had no takers.

Not knowing what the weather was going to do, knowing that darkness would be here soon and the fact that I had even more difficult climbs to make and the fact that I knew I was hypothermic and not thinking real clear at times, with some regret I decided it wasn't safe for me to continue on alone and the prudent thing to do would be to head back on the jeep road to. I felt at the time that as exhausted as I was I still had enough left in my tank to finish the loop if the weather would cooperate. But again, I had no idea what the weather was going to do. Just what it "was" doing. 

During the trek down the snow and sleet turned to rain once again and the temps slowly began to rise and the wind decrease the lower we went. Finally we were below the snow line and everything was green and muddy again. I made it into camp at about 5:30 PM or so. The Race Director played taps on his bugle for me as is tradition at the Barkley. He said the drop rate needed to slow down soon as his lips were becoming too tired to keep playing taps. I grabbed a quick hot shower and put on some dry clothes. Broke camp, thanked Laz profusely, said goodbye to my fellow adventures that were in camp and hit the road back to Austin. 

During the race I had too many falls and slides down the muddy sides of the mountains to count. Got poked in the right eye pretty hard with a stick, Bruised my right hip pretty good after a 20 foot or so tumble down a mountain side. And I have what seems to be a very minor case of frost nip on the tips of my two middle fingers on both hands. It's 3 days later and the tips are still numb and tingle when I touch them. The first 8 miles of the Barkley has left me feeling just as sore as some 50 milers I've done. Go figure!

For me, the Barkley was the Holy Grail of ultras. I feel so privileged and honored to have been a part of it. I hope to go back some day and finish that loop. I wanted an adventure and The Barkley didn't disappoint.

looks like there were 4 fun run (60) mile finishers this year. Brian Robinson started a 5th loop with 7 seconds to spare in the 48 hour 4th loop cutoff. But alas, he too bagged it, at Bald Knob, approx 85 miles into it. Good on ya Brain and all Barkleyites.

And yes, A most Blessed Easter to all. Esp. those serving in harms way. May God bless.

Ok, I'm confused now. If for instance, our permit is for a day hike on the 25th, we have to pick up our permit before 11 am on the 24th?