King
Memorial Park
Hesston, Kansas
April 25-27, 1997
by Eric "Pup" SharpeKUS Journalist/Volunteer
As we approached the kick off of Ultra-Ganza '97, we found ourselves flooded
with memories of the "mini-hurricane" that blew through last year's
24/48 hour event. What once was a partly cloudy sky had now been filled with a
foreboding wall of thunderheads as we busied ourselves with the remaining tasks
of race site setup. Details such as putting up the lap counting tent and
preparing the box loads of munchies for the aid station kept us all busy for
the remaining two hours before the starting gun.
In place of our aid station tent which had blown away last year, Virtual Boy
had scored us what we were assured was a sturdy, easy to construct shelter from
Hesston College. However, peals of laughter erupted from Purple Flurp and the
rest of the volunteers when all of the pieces were dumped from their bag and
spread out before them. Flurp was overheard saying that it looked like a couple
of drop cloths and a pile of scrap that had fallen off of the back of a
plumber's truck.
An hour later, with the aid of a quart of transmission fluid, a wide selection
of hammers, mallets, vise grips and plenty of expletives, cries of victory rang
out as if we had just erected St. Peter's Cathedral! Virtual Boy, of course,
missed our victory dance, due to his absence while taking what we decided was
probably an engineering final. Thanks for the shelter, Mark!! And just to
answer any remaining questions about this, yes, it was just as much fun to take
down as it was putting it up.
Later as we surveyed the field of runners toeing the starting line for the 48
hour event, we realized that once again, for the fourth KUS event in two years,
"homeboy" David Horton was a no show. Nonetheless we were pleased to
be hosting Barbara "Barbed Wire" McLeod and her husband Bill all the
way from Canada. Also in attendance were Terry Pann from Wisconsin, Ed Rousseau
also from up north Minnesota way, and KUS ultra veteran, Ric "Captain
Colt" Lind, from not so far away Iola, Kansas. Special mention must also
go to first time ultra competitor Dan Repp, who would go on to put up some
impressive mileage within the first 24 hours. Minutes later, at the sound of
the word "Go!" Nine runners, representing five states and Canada,
began their first of many laps around King Memorial Park.
As the six hour mark arrived, the temperature had dipped into the low 40's and
true to the forecast for the weekend, as we moved into the wee hours, we began
to feel a light spring rain. By three a.m. we were experiencing a full-on
shower, accompanied by a steady wind that had even the heartiest of competitors
asking when the chili would be ready. Fortunately, the smell of fine meats
smoking in the distance kept everyone awake during the most crucial of all hours.
The morning sun came up on a still vibrant field of runners, which saw Terry
Pann out front and the rest not very far behind. Aside from some soggy socks
and various aches and pains, due to the decidedly unpopular cement course,
everyone felt strong and ready for the next several hours. We, on the other
hand had just finished the first of several three hour nap rotations and were
already beginning to feel the first strains of what has come to be known to KUS
ultravolunteers as "Bungeeness" [Bungee-ness].
Bungeeness is defined as the feeling that you are on the edge of having an
out-of-body experience, watching yourself operate from above, not unlike that
occurred in the movie Altered States. This state of Bungeeness, however, is not
brought on by drugs or hypnosis, but rather by the lack of sleep and the
abundance of responsibility tethered to putting on a multi-day event. We are
sure that there are at least a few individuals out there who can relate.
As I walked toward the lap tent still unsure of just exactly where I was and
more to the point, who I was, I realized that I had missed the start of the 24
and 12 hour events which had kicked off just moments before. Having mingled
with several of the contestants the previous evening we were looking forward to
a rather spirited race, due partly to the level of expertise of the runners
entered but also to the sight of such as our new "bestest" buddy and
big toe, David, Blue Flame" Dinkel, Rex Friend, Phil "Skippy"
Sheridan and Scott Castle. New to our events, but every bit as welcome as the
rest, was Mr. Death Valley himself, "Gravel Man" Scott Weber. This
time, however, he left his baby carriage at home.
The afternoon sun dried out everybody's socks and shorts, and Purple Flurp's
continuous stream of KUS-Huffin's including his now famous chili, spaghetti
& meat sauce, an impromptu batch of ham-n-beans, and a generous selection
of finely smoked meats, took care of the competitor's insides. The meats,
incidentally, were injected, tended and nurtured by our own beloved race
director, whom has yet to be given a nickname that sticks, while Flurpy was
busy napping in one of the many survival vehicles which were available to the
volunteer staff. The next morning, however, Flurp was all smiles as one by one,
the entire attendance complemented him on a job well done. Little did they
realize that the real "smokedog" (R.D.) was fast asleep, dreaming
about next year's menu and this years Flat Rock 50K. By the way in case some of
you wonder about Eric's sanity as a race director, he actually suggested a Flat
Rock 100K earlier this year, however, we all held him sown while talking him
into adding the 25K option instead.
By the time the six hour event kicked off at 1:00, we were all starting to get
the feeling that this was going way too smoothly, and those of us that were
around last year were busy looking at the sky for any signs of severe weather.
Aside from the plumbing problems we seemed to be experiencing in the men's
bathroom, everything was going exactly as planned ( I don't want to point any
fingers here, so I'll just say that whoever stuffed that squirrel pelt down
there should be ashamed of themselves).
As the sun set on the second day of the "ultra-gonzo-extravaganza",
the bungeeness that we mentioned before had truly began to set in, and what had
started out as a couple of days of watching runners circle the park had turned
into a walk through the deepest recesses of our own minds and relationships.
R.D. Eric Steele had said before and it's being said again "Sleep
deprivation and ultras, although nothing without each other, bring out the
truth and true colors in everyone and everything". For the second year in
a row, it must be stated how grateful we are that we received no surprises from
anything or anyone during, before or after the event (at least nothing our
resident computer nerds, Eric and Elfie, couldn't handle).
The end of the day on Saturday saw the 6 and 12 hour events come to a close.
The 24 hour event came to a close as the sun came up in King Memorial Park in
Sunday morning. We had successfully whittled the field of runners sown to a few
hard-core masochists who, for one reason or another, had refused to give up
despite the ever hardening concrete loop and the unpredictable weather. Phil
Sheridan emerged the victor of the 24 hour race, racking up 100 miles inside of
16 hours, that's why we call him "Skippy". Robert Risser took the 12
hour crown with 63.2 miles and Steve Stroot finished the six hour event with a
total of 30.02.
The last day of these events are always the best, and even considering the
large job of tearing everything down and packing it all up, there always seems
to be time to cheer and keep an eye on the needs of the remaining 48 hour
runners. This is usually the point in the event when it would be extremely easy
to slip and let the details go by the wayside; however being the
"ultra-martyrs" that we are, we were not about to let that happen and
so even as we gradually worked our way down to the bare essentials, the pots and
pans were once again brought out for the finishers and their supporters -- a
tradition, according to all the feedback that we have received that is looked
forward to by all. At the end of the 48 hour mark we still had four runners
left, and when the gun finally sounded, Terry Pann was on top with 181.7, Ed
Rousseau followed with 150.1, Barbara McLeod crossed the line with 142.2 and
Kansas' own, Ric Lind, finished with 109.02. All of them remained standing just
long enough to take a few pictures with the leader board and sample some of the
remaining KUS-Huffins.
As the finishers stood congratulating each other with the ringing of our pots
and pans still in their ears, Flurp and the remaining volunteers packed the
rest of the boxes and erased the leader board as another event had come to a
close. Suddenly I realized, that for the last 8 hours I had not given a single
thought to how tired I was. I had not had time to worry about how sticky and
nasty I felt. However, now that we were just about done with everything, it all
came rushing back to me. I couldn't wait to get a hot shower.
All in all, it was a successful outing for all of us and another one chalked up
for the KUS. Each time the entry lists get a little longer and each time the
events go a little bit smoother. From the inception of the very first Flat Rock
50K, the spirit that has emanated from this organization has been refueled,
time and time again, by the amazing athletes and the superior attitudes that
they, along with the volunteers, bring to each and every KUS event.
As smoothly as this race came off, there was still a major component missing.
The Vice President of KUS Scott "Obi-Run-More-Kanobi" Demaree was not
in attendance for the first time, due to his ThD, that is Doctorate of
Thinkology. However, his spirit was inside every pair of running shoes in the
vicinity.
Once again, a big hearty "thank you" goes out to all of the people
& companies that made this Ultra-Ganza a reality; All Corporate Sponsors,
Randy "Elfie" Albrecht, Warren "Purple Flurp", Bev and
David Bushey, Tonya Castle, Marc "Virtual Boy" and Anne Friesen, Chad
Wicki" Flint, Dennis Haig, Bob & Rosemay Marston, Stacy Sheridan,
Mashona Steele, Linda Thom and all of the exceptional athletes that competed in
and endured what will now be considered an annual ritual.