Fame fleeting

          Their fame and success ended as abruptly as it began-almost the moment they reached Vancouver-after they
     had walked from January to June. The long hike left none of them rich or famous. Today only a frenzy of old
     newspaper records commemorates their effort. But they were real Canadian pioneers in the freakish field that
     later witnessed such sadistic demonstrations as marathon dancing, flagpole sitting, goldfish swallowing and
     long-distance swims.
          The great cross-country hike originated in one man's idle whim. The man was Charles Burkman, born in Port
     Arthur, Ontario, but who, in the winter of 1920-21, found himself in Halifax and out of work. He had a friend,
     Sid Carr of Halifax, and one day, footloose and thinking of adventure, Burkman suggested they start walking
     westward and perhaps find a job.
          "How far?" Carr asked.  Burkman hadn't thought about that. "Maybe to Vancouver," he said. And so the
     idea jelled, and grew stronger.
           In early January Burkman and Carr walked into the editorial offices of the Halifax Herald and the Halifax
     Mail and announced their plan to walk across the country--on the CNR tracks to Saint John, N.B., and then
     they would follow the CPR tracks. They had arranged to have postcards printed, showing their picture and
     telling of their hike, and they intended to sell these to pay their way.
          The newspapers seized on the stunt and offered to pay Burkman and Carr for reports on their walks, to be
     sent by telegraph from railway stations along the route. The Herald suggested they carry a letter of greeting
     from the mayor of Halifax to the mayor of Vancouver.

     17 January 1921

     On Monday, January 17, 1921, Burkman and Carr appeared on the steps of the Halifax city hall to start their
     trek. In a chill rain and fog several hundred people had gathered.

     Hurriedly, Mayor J. S. Parker wished them good luck and handed Burkman a letter to be delivered to the
     mayor of Vancouver. Then the men set out, many of the crowd on their heels. One admirer, carried away by
     visions of the adventure, begged them to let him join the trek. Mile by mile, his pleas grew weaker until, after
     five miles, he sat down on a stone and waved them farewell.

     Burkman and Carr planned to walk about fifteen miles a day until the weather improved. Then, in the spring,
     they intended to step up the pace to thirty miles a day. They had calculated that it would take them seven
     months to get to Vancouver. If they had any idea that the trip would be a mere stroll for pleasure, it vanished
     on the third day, when the temperature dropped to ten below zero. Frostbitten but cheerful, they walked all
     day to reach Truro, Nova Scotia's rail hub, by evening. They had completed sixty-four miles.

     The next morning Truro turned out in hundreds to see the two men. They were showered with boots, clothing,
     food and cigarettes by Truro merchants. The postcards, at ten cents each, sold by the dozens. It was noon
     before they got away, and more than a hundred people followed them through the railway yards and along the
     track.

     Most of the Maritimes newspapers had taken up the story, and the accounts of how Burkman and Carr were
     being acclaimed on their route acted as a magnet to other walkers. 1n Dartmouth an energetic postman
     named John Behan read them and decided to start out after the Halifax pair. He wrote to the Halifax Herald
     and proposed a father-son walk: Behan, senior, forty-four, and Clifford Behan, twenty-four, would walk to
     Vancouver in six months-a whole month less than Burkman had estimated. They would pass Burkman and
     Carr before Montreal, they promised.

     Herald agrees

     The Herald agreed to accept stories from the Behans, who fortified themselves with postcards, as Burkman
     and Carr had done, and started out. Although in middle age, John Behan had been an oarsman and was fit for
     the walk. Both he and his son had served overseas with the Halifax rifles. Since Dartmouth and Halifax,
     across the harbor from one another, are constant rivals, the entry of the Behans into the trek gave Dartmouth
     a chance to crow. The Behans were given a civic send-off in Dartmouth, pocketed a letter from Mayor
     Simpson to the mayor of Vancouver, crossed the harbor by boat and started walking.

     Then, unexpectedly, the casual odyssey became a three-way contest when a well-known Maritimes
     foot-racer named Frank Dill threw his hat in the ring with that of his wife, Jennie. Dill, from Windsor, N.S.,
     had enjoyed some local prowess as a runner; he worked in a Dartmouth iron foundry. He and his wife were
     fellow sports; they fished and hiked together. They had decided to head for Vancouver too, they advised the
     Halifax Herald, which by now had found itself a sort of official starter. The Herald welcomed the entry, for, in
     addition to the fact that Dill was a public name, Mrs. Dill had women's interest. Although an angler and hiker,
     she was by no means mannish, but quite small, dark, feminine and piquant.

     Thus, three teams were in the race, and when the fact that it was a race became known to Burkman and
     Carr, the first of a long series of emotional crises appeared. Burkman and Carr, plodding along the right of
     way, were friendly enough. But when the Behans began to press on their heels, and then the Dills, that was
     another thing.

     "I won't be forced into racing across Canada," Carr insisted. And so, at Petitcodiac, fifteen miles west of
     Moncton, N.B., he got on a train and went back to Halifax. Burkman went on alone, after a group of Halifax
     sportsmen, in the throes of civic pride, collected five hundred dollars to spur him on. As January ended,
     Burkman was at Welsford, N.B., the Behans were at Dorchester, having walked through a blizzard. They had
     gained a day and a half on Burkman, and were still confident they could pass him before Montreal.

     End of January

     Frank and Jennie Dill appeared on the stage of the old Majestic Theatre in Halifax the last evening in January.
     They made a big hit, Jennie in particular. The next morning two thousand people met in front of the Halifax
     Herald building to see the couple make their start. Jennie created a sensation dressed in riding breeches, boots
     with high leather leggings, and a mackinaw jacket and cap. In 1921 it was unheard-of for women to be seen in
     men's clothing. The iron foundry had given Frank Dill's fellow employees the day off and they turned out with
     banners and horns.

     The popularity of the Dills far exceeded that of the others. At Shubenacadie the Ladies Aid of the
     Presbyterian Church insisted that they stay at the home of one of its members. In Truro their reception
     surpassed even the arrival of a circus. They were met by a parade of school children. They sold more than
     two hundred postcards and left Truro loaded with dimes.

     The Behans arrived at Saint John, N.B., on February 4, having walked forty-five miles in one day. They had
     been royally received everywhere, except at Norton, N.B., where the station agent unexplainedly harangued a
     crowd to incite violence against the hikers.

     By February 6 Burkman was well into Maine-halfway to Montreal. He was travelling on the Maine Central
     rails, over which the CPR had running rights. He had been caught in a snowstorm and thought he would have
     to seek shelter, but a snowplow came along and Burkman fell in behind it to cover thirty miles that day. The
     train crew pleaded with him to get on and ride but he refused. This happened to all the contestants many
     times.

     The night of February 6 the Behans reached Fredericton Junction, N.B., while the Dills made Amherst, N.S.,
     after walking at times up to their knees in slush. All through the next week there were heavy snows in New
     Brunswick and Maine. The Behans one day made only eleven miles, the Dills ten miles.

     15 February 1921

     By February 15 Burkman had arrived at Sherbrooke, Quebec, having walked 650 miles in twenty-nine days.
     The Behans were at Longpond, Maine, 531 miles in twenty-one days, while the Dills were at Saint John-275
     miles in fourteen days. The Behans announced that they had given up hope of passing Burkman before
     Montreal, but said they would pass him in northern Ontario.

     Walking in wild country, all five contestants often feared they would be attacked by animals, then shrugged it
     off as unlikely. Suddenly, on February 15, the Behans had a taste of what was ultimately to confront all the
     walkers. Pacing along a desolate stretch of track, they heard growling in the bushes to the side and three
     wildcats bounded out. Jack Behan drew a revolver. The wildcats crouched a few yards away, crawling
     slowly. Then one leaped. Behan fired. The cat, wounded, prepared to leap again. Behan fired twice more and
     the wildcat fell dead. Its companions vanished like wraiths into the bushes.

     No wildcat, but a policeman, stalked the Dills outside Saint John. 'He took them for tramps and walked up to
     arrest them for trespassing on railway property.

     "This one," he said, placing a firm hand on Jennie Dill's shoulder, "can come along with me."

     "Meet the wife," said Frank Dill.

     The policeman looked at Jennie and then his face broke out in a grin. "Why, it's Jennie Dill," he said, as he
     recognized the face from newspaper pictures. He escorted them into Saint John. Women flocked to see
     Jennie Dill, and her charm won everyone's heart. Before starting, Jennie had listened to friends plead with her
     to give up the trip. Some said she would not last to Truro. But here she was, 275 miles later, and feeling better
     than when she started.

     19 February 1921

     On February 19, crowds lined Montreal streets to see Burkman arrive. He stayed at the Windsor Hotel where
     kings had stayed before him, and was host to scores of reporters. He had made sixteen changes of boots
     along the way, but found a broad-toed, heavy pair of shoepacks most comfortable. He had a few blisters-most
     of his trouble was caused by socks. He said the toughest part of the walk was over, and thus proved himself a
     poor prophet.

     By the time Burkman left Montreal on February 21, the Behans were at Sherbrooke and coming fast. They
     had covered those 650 miles in twenty-six days-a three-day gain on Burkman. The Dills were at Lambert
     Lake, Maine, 385 miles from Halifax in nineteen days. Burkman lost time on the walk from Montreal to
     Ottawa. The maze of railway tracks put him off, and by mistake he got on the Grand Trunk line instead of the
     CPR.

     On February 25 he finally reached the capital. He was taken in hand by P. F. Martin, MP for Halifax, and
     was introduced to members, Cabinet ministers, the leader of the Opposition, and to Prime Minister Arthur
     Meighen. Burkman w:.s a likable young man who made friends easily, and in Ottawa he received hundreds of
     letters of encouragement from all over Canada.

     As February ended, the standing of the contestants was: Burkman at Renfrew, Ontario, 926 miles in 42 days;
     Behans at Plantagenet, Ontario, 859 miles in 34 clays; Dills at Lowelltown, Maine, 577 miles in 27 days.

     1 March 1921

     The Behans arrived in Ottawa on March 1. They had had hard going, especially in Maine, where they had hit
     the worst of the storms. At one place they had to crawl over a railway trestle on their hands and knees, for
     fear of being carried away by a gale. The Behans also made the rounds in Ottawa, met the Prime Minister,
     attended Commons debates. On the road again, they were pursued by animals, this time wolves. They did not
     have to defend themselves, however, and spent a night sleeping in a barn. They suffered greatly from the cold,
     and had to get up and walk around to get warm.

     The Dills had seen nothing more dangerous than a deer on their travels, but they had one near mishap in
     Maine. They were walking, one on each rail, with a stick between them for balance. The track was
     downgrade, with a sharp curve. Suddenly they felt the rails vibrate beneath them. Glancing back they were
     shocked to see a locomotive bearing down on them. They jumped just in time. The engine had been coasting
     downhill and the engineer could not see them for the curve.

     Back in Halifax, interest in the race was intense. One Halifax man bet a thousand dollars the Behans would
     catch Burkman by March 12. It had become known that Burkman was having foot trouble. He had reached
     North Bay by March 8, but his boots were in bad shape and he lost a day getting new boots.

     The Behans arrived in North Bay on March 10. Nothing was heard of them for several days and it was
     believed they were taking a short cut to pass Burkman. But they were merely keeping quiet so as not to
     inform Burkman how close they were. They failed, however, to overtake him by March 12.

     13 March 1921

     On March 13 Burkman finished a sprint in which he walked seventy miles in two days. He had made himself
     a roller-skate contrivance which he placed against one rail while he walked on the other. This gadget had a
     couple of rods with handles, and by leaning against it to maintain balance Burkman could walk along the rail at
     a steady clip. Necessity was the mother of this invention as the rock ballast on the tracks in Northern Ontario
     was so coarse that to walk on it was almost impossible.

     While the two leaders were neck and neck, the Dills had reached Ottawa. As almost everywhere else, their
     reception surpassed anything experienced by their rivals. The women of Ottawa flocked to see the little
     woman who had taken on a man-sized walk.

     Then on March 14 the Behans overtook Burkman at Azilda, Ontario. Burkman, passing through Chelmsford,
     had arranged with the telegraph operator to wire him at Azilda if the Behans, on their arrival at Chelmsford,
     planned to carry on farther that day. The Behans talked the operator into believing they were staying in
     Chelmsford for the night. Then they quietly slipped out. Burkman, getting word that the Behans were spending
     the night at Chelmsford, decided to spend the night at Azilda. The Behans arrived in Azilda late at night and
     went to the same hotel where Burkman was staying.

     About 2 a.m. the hotel proprietor awakened Burkman and told him the Behans were there. Burkman caressed
     at once and started out. The Behans rose at 4:30 and took after him. They caught up to him at Larchwood, a
     few miles along the road. The men shook hands, and they walked along together. They covered fifteen miles
     before stopping for breakfast. For the rest of the day they walked, neither able to pass the other. The railway
     was double-tracked; each took a track, and they raced abreast.

     The middle of March saw the positions as follows: Burkman and the Behans at Pogma, Ontario, Burkman
     after fifty-seven days on the road, the Behans after forty-nine days; Dills at Ottawa, 871 miles in forty-two
     days.

     18 March 1921

     The third week of March saw heavy storms in northern Ontario and the hikers had to work for every mile.
     The Behans and Burkman struggled on together for three days, neither able to gain a lead. On March 18
     Burkman finally gave his opponents the slip by getting out ahead at Woman River.

     Then followed three days that the Behans were silent. Were they using their strategy of not giving their
     position away? The truth was that they were lost. They had been told by an Indian guide that a side track,
     which ran through logging country, joined up again with the CPR and would cut off one hundred miles.
     Instead, it ended at a camp fifty miles in the hush. The only way to get back on the CPR was to retrace their
     steps. They walked an extra hundred miles and wasted three days. They loudly blamed Burkman, saying that
     he had put the Indian up to tricking them to take the short cut.

     Meanwhile, mile by mile, the Dills were gaining. They were not without thrills either. On March 22 they were
     walking along the track near Rutherglen, when a wolf came bounding behind them. Jennie Dill had a revolver
     in her belt. As the wolf sprang at Frank, she drew the gun and fired. The bullet stopped the wolf. Frank killed
     it with another shot.

     By the time the Behans got back on the main line the Dills were at North Bay. Burkman had kept silent for
     four days, but on March 26 the Behans again overtook him at White River, 1,497 miles from Halifax. Now, as
     the Behans and Burkman fought for the lead and the Dills began to press on their heels, an element of intrigue
     was added to the other fantastic trivia of the cross-country sideshow. Mrs. Dill caused a flurry when she
     revealed that she had received two letters from Charlie Burkman. She claimed her husband was jealous-he
     thought Burkman was holding back so the Dills could catch up to him.

     Surprise depature

     At King, Ontario, Burkman again gave the Behans the slip. He moved out in the middle of the night when the
     Behans were sleeping. The temperature was eleven below zero and he thought this would discourage them
     from trying to catch him, but when he was ten miles out he was surprised to hear Jack Behan hail him. They
     walked together the rest of the day and stopped that night at Heron Bay.

     The next day the Behans turned the tables and slipped away on Burkman. About one mile out they had their
     first glimpse of Lake Superior and at Peninsula they were told that the special train of the Duke of
     Devonshire, Governor-General of Canada, was due in ten minutes. They waited, and when the train stopped
     they asked to see the duke. They were gruffly refused, but Jack Behan slipped aboard and saw the duke's
     secretary, who became interested in his tale and arranged for the duke and duchess to receive the two men.
     The Governor-General autographed their books and they received gifts from the duchess.

     The end of March saw the Behans leading at Jackfish, Ontario, 1,596 miles and sixty-five days out of Halifax.
     Burkman was a short distance behind, and the Dills were at Woman River, 1,310 miles and on the road
     fifty-eight days.

     The first of April brought another intense storm. The station agent at Middleton warned the Behans but they
     disregarded his advice. They made only sixteen miles that day. and the storm was so bad they again had to
     crawl over trestles. Burkman was not heard from after this storm and fears were felt for his safety. However,
     he suddenly walked up and slapped the Behans on the back in the post office at Cavers, Ontario. The Dills
     were making good time. They did sixty-two miles in two days to reach Woman River and they were doing
     over thirty miles on most days.

     4 April 1921

     The three men in the lead were walking together on April 4 when they were attacked by wolves. It was near
     Ruby, Ontario, and they were still going after dark. They heard wolves howling behind them and the men held
     them off by shining flashlights. Someone had told the Behans there was a shack about four miles along the
     track and they made for there, the wolves at their heels. At the shack they barred the door. There was little
     sleep as the wolves howled all night.

     This was wild, sparsely settled country, but the Lakehead cities were near. On April 6 the hikers reached Port
     Arthur. Hundreds were at the station to greet Burkman, while the Behans were met by former Nova Scotians
     who took them to Fort William. While the leaders were at the Lakehead the Dills reached Franz, Ontario,
     having struck warm weather. Fair-complexioned Frank Dill was suffering from sunburn.

     On April 8 the Behans passed the halfway mark of the journey. This was Savanne, Ontario. Burkman was
     about eighty miles behind, while the Dills were at Peninsula, after doing forty miles in a rainstorm. They were
     making better time than any of the others. The Behans now had a two-day lead on Burkman, who
     nevertheless had a two-day rest and was eager to pass his rivals.

     On April 13 the Dills lost time getting boots repaired. They were entertained at a party given in Cavers. When
     they left Cavers the wives of the telegraph operators motored to Gurney, eleven miles along the route, cooked
     dinner in the open, and had it ready when the Dills arrived.

     14 April 1921

     About this time the Behans began to have trouble with blistered feet. On April 14 they walked only seventeen
     miles. Burkman was not heard from for four days. It was rumored he was injured falling from a precipice on a
     short cut. He finally turned up at Raith, having been injured when he slipped on a rail and sprained his hip.

     On April 20 the Behans reached Winnipeg, eighty-four days after leaving Halifax. The same day, Burkman
     walked forty-five miles to reach Kenora, while the Dills finished the day at English River.

     Past the halfway point in their trek, the walkers began to exert even greater efforts, and the strain told on all
     of them. On April 28 Burkman walked all night, and covered fifty-five miles before stopping to rest at Portage
     la Prairie. In Winnipeg two days earlier, he had stopped only long enough to pick up summer underwear. On
     May 1 the Behans were at Elkhorn and the Dills were in Winnipeg. By May 5 Burkman started travelling at
     night to avoid walking in the heat of the day. His first night he walked forty-eight miles.

     Then, on May 5, a sandstorm caught all the hikers. The Behans, however, made Regina; Burkman was at
     Virden, forced again to get new boots, and for a few days he was slowed down once more. On May 9 all
     Canada thrilled to hear that Frank and Jennie Dill had caught up with Burkman at Broadview, Saskatchewan.
     The Behans were at Ernfold, 161 miles ahead.

     The record of the hikers up to this point was: Dills, average 25 2/3 miles per day; Behans, average 25 ½ miles
     per day; Burkman, average 21 2/3 miles per day.

     15 May 1921

     The middle of May saw all contestants driving themselves grimly. The Dills were only a day and a half behind
     the leaders. Burkman, who was suffering from sore feet, was falling behind. At almost every town the Dills
     were besieged by photographers and reporters. They put on a sprint to Calgary and walked fifty-two miles at
     one stretch, which cut the Behans' lead to forty-one miles. However, they now lost a day in Calgary which
     they greatly regretted later. So many easterners wanted to entertain them that they found it hard to refuse.
     The Behans thus gained a day's walk.

     By the night of May 27 the Behans reached Lake Louise. They had suffered from nosebleeds caused by
     exertion and the fact that they were unaccustomed to higher altitudes. They slept on the station platform at
     Lake Louise and this almost cost them the race, for Clifford Behan caught a chill.

     The pressure began to tell on the walkers' nerves. When Jack Behan heard that the Dills had walked fifty-two
     miles in a day he was not only skeptical, but outraged. He claimed it was impossible for a woman to perform
     such a feat. He said the world's record for walking for a woman was forty-seven miles in one day, held by an
     American woman. Jennie Dill, however, proved capable of even more.

     Behan was beginning to show the results of the long grind. He had lost fourteen pounds and was constantly
     tired. The Dills now were really driving. They left Morley on a Saturday morning and made Banff by night,
     having walked forty-two miles. Jennie was so exhausted she couldn't even talk. However, the next morning
     they left Banff and actually arrived in Field, B.C., a few hours after the Behans had left.

     31 May 1921

     May ended with the race drawing near its end. The Behans were at Glacier, 3,225 miles in 125 days; the Dills
     were but a few miles behind, being on the road 118 days; Burkman was at Banff. Clifford Behan's back had
     been bothering him since the cold sleep on the platform at Lake Louise. The pain became so severe he could
     hardly move. Clifford insisted that his father keep going. He said he would go to Revelstoke by train and seek
     medical attention.

     When Jack Behan arrived in Revelstoke he found his son in bed in the YMCA. A cold had settled in the
     muscles of his back. But he insisted on getting up, going back by train to where he had abandoned the hike
     and then walking to Revelstoke to catch up with his father. Thus the Behans pressed on, and by June 4 they
     were back in their stride.

     That day they walked fifty miles in fifteen hours to Kamloops. Burkman likewise was now fired with ambition
     to catch up and he walked hundred and forty miles in three days.

     When the leaders were at Spatsum, the Dills were at Kamloops, forty-seven miles behind. Burkman was at
     Sicamous, eighty-eight miles behind the Dills. At this point Jennie Dill accused the Behans of cheating. She
     claimed that, according to the times the Behans reported being in each town, they must on one occasion have
     walked thirty-three miles in four hours. The Behans made no reply to the charge.

     12 June 1921

     June found the Behans at Haig, with only eighty-nine miles to go. The Dills were at Kanaka, with 149 miles
     remaining, with Burkman reaching Kamloops on that day. On June 12 the Behans by an all-night hike arrived
     in Vancouver and nosed out the Dills. They walked sixty-one miles in twenty-two hours and were exhausted
     to the point of collapse. The Vancouver Sun reported that the hike had left its mark and "It was hard to
     determine who was father and who was son."

     The time of the Behans from Halifax to Vancouver was 3,645 miles in 136 days. The Dills arrived on June 14
     and were declared the winners. They had gained five full days on the Behans. Burkman was still eighty-one
     miles out and he arrived in Vancouver on June 16.

     Jennie Dill was terribly thin at the end of the hike, and all the hikers were deeply tanned. None had an ounce
     of surplus weight. This was the end of the great cross-Canada hike, but it wasn't the last heard of the intrepid
     hikers. Jack Behan took his defeat hard and challenged Dill and Burkman to race from Montreal to Halifax.
     He claimed that he was the fastest walker, that Dill had been held up by his wife, while he had been held up
     by his son.

     The others took him up, and in Montreal and Halifax interest was intense. Sportsmen in Halifax put up a
     thousand dollars to be awarded as prizes. The start was set for ten o'clock the morning of July 5, but the
     previous evening Burkman decided to withdraw. Behan and Dill were still hurling challenges, so it was
     decided that the two of them would race.

     Hot in Montreal

     The weather was the hottest Montreal had seen for years. At the start on the morning of July 7, the
     temperature was over a hundred.

     The hikers walked along the streets to the tracks of the Grand Trunk Railway. They walked thirty miles to St.
     Johns, and both men were nearly prostrate with the heat. The next morning they started out, but at Foster,
     Quebec, Dill collapsed. The temperature was 104 degrees. The doctor refused to let him continue. Behan
     readily agreed to give up the contest.

     What became of the contestants in this gruelling test? Frank Dill died in Halifax in 1928. Jennie remarried and
     died in Halifax in 1941. Burkman had a ticket from Montreal to Halifax, but never used it - he simply dropped
     from view.

     At eighty John Behan still claimed that he and Clifford were the only ones who walked all the way, and he
     was sorry then that they had. "We came home broke," he said, "our families in debt, and we couldn't get work.
     We had to move to the U.S. to pay our debts."

     Like all the walkers, Behan's fame ended when he stopped walking.

     (Ultramarathon World: http://fox.nstn.ca/~dblaikie) (UW: 1ja00a) (date)
     (Reproduced from: Maclean's Canada, Portrait of a Country, McClelland and Stewart Ltd. 1960)
************************************************************************************
STORY # 2
From Scottie, our expat New Yorker, now living in London...
>>> Scott Burgess <gscott_burgess@yahoo.co.uk> 02/10 8:29 AM >>>
*****************************************************************************

      Monday and Tuesday in the Devon countryside.  What a  great 2 days of ultra-ing!
I won't say "ultra-*running*" although I did run quite a bit, or as much as I could ... but
between the  severe mud, the gale-force rain-lashing wind (always  in my face, needless
to say), and frigid water up past my knees *on the trail* (thank God it wasn't a couple  of
inches higher .... BRRRRR!), I made 35 miles in 11 hours (over 2 days).
     Oh, and the route-finding. Stopping every 20-30  minutes (10 minutes when feeling insecure)
to check my drenched maps just to make sure that I wasn't getting hopelessly lost, as is my
wont. Thankfully, I never did, though there were a couple of occasions when I had to backtrack
30 minutes or so (down the hill,  across the muddy field, past the angry cows/sheep, check the
fence to make sure it's not electrified,  and be on my way).
      Exotic locale? Not quite. Ultrarunners can have adventure anywhere, even in the prosaic
Countryside of Devon ... especially when 'adventurous' weather cooperates. Did I ignore the
weathercast warnings of  '50-70 mph winds and rain'? Naaaawwwwww! Hey that's part of the fun,
innit?! At least, it's part of the fun before, and *especially* after, such an experience. In the midst
of it? ... Well, from my comfy warm chair, beer at my side, I *swear* I was having fun yesterday
and the day before!
                                            **** Observations ****

1) English Mud (Types of):
* Slippery. Slippery downhills prevent you regaining  the time you lost going up.
* Heavy. Mostly found in farmers' fields. May be mixed  with cow/sheep shit. Over
     a pound can accumulate on each shoe, with deleterious effects on pace.
*Odiferous.
* Deep.  Pasty liquid up to the ankles. Can suck shoes away.
*Sticky.  Minimally deep, but very adhesive. Adheres  to clothing in a post-punk
 fashion statement.

2) Favo(u)rite moments:
? The look on the poor landlady's face at the B&B when a mud-covered Yank
checked in after the first day's running. After washing my shoes, tights, and jacket
in the shower, and throwing away my socks (you know you're an ultrarunner when ...),
I cleaned that hotel room as obsessively as a murderer covering his tracks.
(Couldn't  bear to let the nice old lady down ...)
? The farmer in the truck glimpsing me and laughing  her head off as I was about
to move off road onto the trail on day 2. *She* knew what 'trail'  (read mingled
cowshit/mud/downed trees) conditions I would encounter in the next few hours.
? Twice on the second day: Frigid, rushing water covering the trail to mid thigh depth.
These are the moments when you say to yourself ... "now *this*, this  is ultrarunning!"
After you say that, you say ... "I can't wait to get home."
 

3) Main lesson:
When you come back from a run and you say to yourself "Wow ... that was an *experience*!" ...
*That's* a successful training run. There have been times when I've been disappointed with
 myself although I did a much greater distance ... not this time. This run taught me that I'll take
an 11 hour, 35 mile "experience" spread over two days against knocking out a routine 24 miles
in 3 hours on the road any day.  (Not that I've ever run 24 miles in 3 hours...)

 Scott Burgess
 (gee, it's good to be back)
London, UK