Purple Blaze All in My Brain: Catherines Fat Ass

By John Dodds
CFA 2001

One fortunate thing about living in Virginia is that we (unlike Hendrix) don’t need mind-altering drugs—we have Massanutten Mountain. The mountain can also induce alterations in your physical wellbeing. Catherine’s Fat Ass 50K is vintage Massanutten. But before getting into the specifics of last Saturday’s event, I’d like to mention how I got ready for the run.

Germany

I was fortunate enough to go to Germany again in June. Although I stayed in a different place this time, I found a fabulous trail system only 100 yards from the hotel. I hadn’t done much running since MMT100, and this was a real treat. The trails were very well maintained (hardly any rocks or roots) and no real big climbs like MMT. It was probably the most leisurely trail running I’ve ever done. My plan was just to follow the trails wherever they went and hopefully remember the way back to the hotel. It was such a bewildering array of trails. Since I had no planned route, there was no possibility of making a wrong turn. My longest run was 4.5 hours. I saw all kinds of wild flowers, including the poppy, which is one of the few I recognized from my childhood days in California. I also saw the applestrudelwort and the goppledangerflax and others too numerous to mention here (believe it or not, these are mentioned not only in the wildflower book Gary Knipling uses but also in Johann’s Guide to Teutonic Wildflowers.) I didn’t see many wild animals, except for a deer and a fox. Then there were the non-wild animals like the cows in the many fields I passed. I also saw a bunch of sheep in one field. There was a man out with them, and even though I had never seen him before I knew exactly who he was: a German shepherd.

Browntown Loop

When I got back from Germany, Russ Evans and Gary invited me to go on this run.This is not the famous run in late May with the pictures on the VHTRC web site. Gary wrote me an email saying we would be going 20 miles and would need only 2 water bottles. This run involves going up over the AT twice, so I figured that it would take us maybe 5 hours. Since I go through at least 20 ounces of liquid every hour, I figured I would need 100 ounces. Two water bottles was clearly not enough. But then again, I don’t really listen to Gary. He did say there were a couple stores in Browntown, but since this was July 4^th, there was no guarantee they would be open. I used my 70-ounce Camelbak and a Fast-Draw for a total of 90 ounces. Plus a grape soda in one of the stores (they were open), I drank over 100 ounces that day.

We started just before 6 a.m. on a warm, very muggy day. At our first stop to look at the map (6:27 a.m.), we were sweating like pigs. Ever time Gary pointed at the map, sweat would drip off his arm on the map. Most of you are probably wondering why we are using a map since we were running with Russ. Russ’ knowledge of MMT and the AT is legendary. Some of you may not know this, but Russ’ secret is that he had laser surgery earlier this year. Not the eye kind. It was the kind where they lase an entire topographical map of Virginia into your brain. The only reason Russ needs a map is to show other people where they are. Gary explained to me that he tried to have this surgery, too, but I can’t remember all the technical, medical terms he mentioned why the surgeon said he couldn’t have it. Basically, the reason was “not enough disk space.”

As we started running that morning, Russ and Gary said that they weren’t going to say anything because it might end up in one of my reports on the web. It told them I would just make stuff up instead. It was late last year when I found out that quite a few people read the VHTRC web site. As far as Gary was concerned, I told him that if it weren’t for me that he would be virtually an unknown ultrarunner. Now, there are people all over the country who know about him and don’t want to run with him.

Both Russ and Gary had done a lot more running recently than me. My runs in Germany were more leisurely and certainly not of the terrain on this run. I was not doing well. And it was made all the more aggravating when every now and then, one of them would say, “Isn’t this great?” I had hurt my foot a bit on my last run in Germany and was able to keep up until the last downhill back to the car. That plus the humidity and the lack of miles took its toll, and I finished several minutes behind them. As I had thought, the run took us 5 hours.

The highlight of the run for me was having the grape soda at the store in Browntown (alright, the side trip to Big Devil Stairs was ok, too, if you’re into all that spectacular scenery stuff). And with Gary along, there was the usual wildflower trivia. But don’t just think that Gary knows a lot of useless stuff about flowers. He can remember all kinds of useless stuff, not just flowers. Case in point: we were ascending the mountain out of Browntown and were nearing the cross trail that would take us over the AT and Skyline Drive. Pointing to the right with fatherly pride, he said, “Right up there is where Keith took a shit the last time we were here.” Those of you who were on the famous Browntown loop trip in May may remember that, too. Anyway, be sure to mention this to Keith “The Dumpster” next time you see him.

Bears

I’m making this a separate section because it deserves special mention. I have never seen a person, namely Gary, so obsessed with bears. Our Browntown loop run is an example. For every noise in the woods he heard, Gary would stop to listen if it was a bear. It got so bad that when Russ would fart, Gary would say, “Stop! I think I hear a bear.” We never did see a bear. But, then again, the odds were pretty good that we wouldn’t see a bear for the simple reason that Gary was with this.

In getting ready for Catherine’s Fat Ass, I read the 1999 report only to learn that Courtney Campbell saw a bear. And he saw a bear at MMT100 this year. I suppose then that we can generalize and say that the first runner gets the spider webs and the bears. A note to Gary: if you want to increase your chances of seeing a bear, you’re going to have to run a tad faster.

At this time, I would like to mention the picture of the bear cub on the VHTRC web site. Presumably, this is a picture of a bear Russ saw. Does anybody really believe this is a bear?I had this picture sent to our (Air Force’s) super-secret photo interpretation lab for analysis, and they confirmed what I suspected all along: this is Russ’ old Raggedy Andy doll with the hair dyed black. Good try, Russ.

Two Days Later. Russ and I went back out for another run. The weather was great—cool and no humidity. We did Old Rag and then the White Oak Canyon trail. We continued on up to Skyland and Stony Man Mt. We headed north a bit on the AT and ran down the Nicholson Run trail back to the Old Rag parking lot. Here are the pictures of the 3 waterfalls on the White Oak Canyon trail that Russ didn’t take because he forgot the camera. As you can see, the third waterfall was especially beautiful.

{editor's note} Imagine three black boxes where the photos would go (it's John's sense of humor)

Unfortunately, Russ took a spill on the Nicholson trail just before the end of our run. It was like he was sliding headfirst into a base in baseball. He skinned his knees but was fortunate it was nothing more serious. I don’t think it really bothered him because he ran faster after this. Anyway, here’s a photo that will show you the “style” of his fall. The reason for the fall was because there was very small stump that blended in perfectly with the color of the surface of the trail itself. Russ didn’t even see it. At least no one (other than me) was around to see him fall (and, of course, you all now know about it now). I took a fall on the Bull Run trail near Bull Run Marina earlier this year while trying to adjust a strap on my Camelbak I had just bought.I landed on my shoulder and cut my elbow and knee. But that wasn’t the worst part. It just so happened that day that the entire Lake Braddock High School crew team had finished their practice on the water and was running behind me

MMT.

Two weeks before Catherine’s, I decided I needed to run at Massanutten. You can do all the substitute training you want, but I’ve found that there is no place like the real thing. I wanted to do part of the MMT100 course and part of Catherine’s. I started at Gap Creek and went up Jawbone Gap and then along Kerns Mt. to the Visitors Center. Then up Bird Knob, continuing on to the Catherine’s course to Pitt Spring and Catherine Furnace. Then up the purple trail and over to 211 East. Then on to Waterfall, down Crisman Hollow Road, up the Scothorn Gap trail over to the blue trail and back to the van at Gap Creek. It was a long day. Especially the part from the Visitors Center to 211 East. Russ told me that I would need a lot of water. I had planted aid at 211 East, the Visitors Center, and the junction of the Waterfall Mt. trail and Crisman Hollow Road on my way in that morning. In my bag at the Visitors Center was a 2-bottle hip pack and a Fast Draw. During that portion of the run, I used those in addition to my 70-ounce Camelbak (for a total of 130 ounces) and still ran out of water just before getting to 211 East.

Two parts of this run were memorable. The first was the purple trail (Roaring Run trail), which is part of Catherine’s Fat Ass. The day was hot, and I knew this was going to be tough. The trail started out ok but at a certain points, it just stopped. I would be looking at shoulder-high bushes in front of me. At times, you didn’t see the trail; you just had to sense it. I thought I was on the Lewis & Clark expedition. I had my doubts from time to time that I was in the right place. But it was vaguely a trail, it did go up, and I did occasionally see purple blazes. I felt like I was on the Survivor show, but I wished I had been voted off the trail back at Catherine Furnace. When I got through this tough section, I stopped for a GU break and decided to look at the map and read the course description for this part of the course.

It began: “The Purple Trail is evil. It is a long, slow climbing, hot part of the day, rocky trail. ”When I got done reading, I yelled out to no one in particular: “Peyton, I’ll get you for this. You, too, Jeff.” When I finally made it to the road, there were two vultures circling overhead.

The next day Peyton and Jeanne Christie did the full course. Peyton wrote on the webpage that the course was in great shape. I wondered what the hell he could possibly be thinking. I was tempted to call him up, but I didn’t want him to think that I was a wimp. Not to keep you in suspense—in the race itself, you don’t do the section I had done. You are detoured around this as I was to find out to my great relief.

The second memorable part of my run that day: Waterfall Mt. After the purple trail and making it to 211 East, I restocked and had something to eat. And then I headed across 211 to see if I could repeat my near-death experience on Waterfall that had done me in at MMT100. I came close. But I made it (sort of) and continued on. I even did the Scothorn Gap trail climb as planned.

I was now ready for Catherine’s Fat Ass. But first:

James Gang.

I’m not talking about Jesse or the Cleveland-based rock group from the ’60s. I’m talking about Jim Moore and all the people who supported him. Anstr did a great job of keeping everybody updated. Gary and I were able to join Jim from about mile 88 to 84 on a Sunday morning (1 a.m. to 3 a.m.) Not only is Jim amazing, but so is his crew. I only saw a little bit of what they had to go through. Getting up at odd hours, trying to catch sleep when they could, tending to Jim when needed, etc. What a toll it must have taken for all those involved. Carolyn Gernand in particular, Rebecca and Terry (his son), Bill Turrentine (who did 140+ miles with Jim), Larry DeHof, Jeanne Christie, and others I just don’t know about. This is not to detract from Jim’s accomplishment, it is merely to recognize those others as well.

Gary was the designated sleeper on the drive back. We had somewhat of an interesting conversation:

Me: Gary, isn’t it incredible how Jim can keep going even though he has a severe “list” and has to walk with that big stick to hold himself up?

Gary: Bfrmogfmrory gintog.

Me: And how about the efforts of the crew?

Gary: Purngt tohmrh mffrlr.

Me: I don’t think you’re really listening to what I’m saying.

Gary: (snoring sounds)

When he woke up, he asked where we were. I said: “Amarillo. You’ve been asleep for two days.” “Damn,” he said, “I just missed two days of work.” By then it was 5:30 a.m., and we were just getting back to Arlington.

I went back out on the Canal on Friday. I took off from work and linked up with Jim and Bob Coyne around mile 12 a little after 1 p.m. Jim was in much better shape than when I last saw him, mainly because he could now stand up straight. During our conversation that afternoon, I learned that Jim grew up in Biloxi, MS. He joined the Army in 1963, the year that I moved to Biloxi (I was there for a year). Those were the days of segregation. He told me how he used to wash dishes in the Buena Vista Motel even though blacks couldn’t stay there. When it did desegregate, his younger sister had her wedding reception there. He said it was an emotional event for him. I told him that when we left Biloxi in the summer of 1964, we stayed at the Buena Vista motel. When I was in college, I washed dishes to make money, and when I first moved to Washington years ago, I had a temporary job washing dishes at Dulles Airport. I know it’s a small statistical sample, but maybe there’s a connection between washing dishes and becoming an ultrarunner. Don’t plan on staying at the Buena Vista the next time you’re in Biloxi. Hurricane Camille removed it from the planet over 30 years ago.

 

Finishing his second C&O Canal trip was another emotional event for Jim. Rebecca and daughters were there with his favorite post-race food: chicken wings. Carolyn and Bill were also there. This was not a solemn occasion at all, mainly because Joe Clapper and Anstr were there. They were having too much fun playing with the talking beer can opener Keith had bought for James (and which Gary had personally delivered to James the previous Sunday night out on the Canal). Anstr wanted to know if he could get a talking beer can opener if he ran to Cumberland. I told him he’d have to go to Cumberland and back to get one.[Aforementioned can opener is in Jim’s hand.]

 

Catherines Fat Ass      July 28, 2001

OK, we’re finally there. A few general comments are in order. Peyton and Jeff’s course description is excellent. The course was very well marked. There was ample aid, more than I had expected. The volunteers were great (but see my comment below). All in all, I (as well as others) were amazed that an event of this caliber could be pulled off by just two people (with a little help from their friends, I’m sure). It was a great day for a run. Why? Because it was overcast and relatively cool for July. I couldn’t imagine more favorable conditions for such a tough course.

My strategy (like all my runs at MMT) was to survive. This would be the run where I would practice running a little faster going downhill.I don’t run real well downhill, especially on a rocky trail. I had emailed Deb Reno after MMT100 and asked her how she does so well. She says she uses the pray-and-step method. I can’t pray as fast as she can. My plan for the course was to take the first part up to the scenic overlook kind of easy. From there it is either level or downhill, and I would pick up the pace all the way to the bridge at Cub Run. I hadn’t been on the road section beyond Cub Run so that was sort of an unknown. I knew I would walk the yellow trail since it is uphill. Although I hadn’t been on the next orange section, I planned to run it pretty well since the course description said it could be done. Then down the road again to Catherine Furnace and then the dreaded purple trail. After that it would be a walk up the road, and then when the grass “road” started, I would sort of push it (if I had the energy) all the way to the finish because it is all pretty much downhill.

This all worked pretty much as planned. I made it up Bird Knob and actually had a great time running to the road and then on to Pitt Spring and down to the bridge at Cub Run. The toughest part of the course for me was the road section from there to the yellow trail.It is about 2 miles and it is uphill. But not enough uphill that you are reduced to walking. You sort of feel compelled to run (too much of a stigma to walk), if you want to call it that. I used this slow, shuffle run.It was not really an enjoyable part of the run for me. As I was plodding along in my near-misery, here comes some guy just loping up the road as if it was nothing and saying not a word as he breezed by me. I learned from Deb that when you pass somebody, you don’t pat them on the butt and say, “See you later, loser.” And I’ve also learned that when you go zooming by somebody who is not doing real well that you should at least throw them a bone in their misery.Like: “Tough road, isn’t it?” Something. Anyway, it was great getting to the yellow trail so I could walk. This trail is spectacular, and time went by too quickly in this section. I will have to do this section some day when I can do some sightseeing.

At the intersection of the orange trail, I again tried to run faster since it was downhill. Then there was the slight detour for the Pitt Spring overlook. Finally, I was at Catherine Furnace and ready for the purple trail. Actually, I was looking forward to it because I could once again walk (not right away, but soon). One of the reasons I wanted to do this trail that day was to see how the trail could have magically transformed into being in “great shape” (according to Peyton) the day after I had done it. As I mentioned above, it was because of the detour around the section I had done earlier. What a relief!

Earlier in the race, I had passed three runners who were at the first aid station (they stopped and I didn’t). They caught up to me and passed me just after I had gotten on the yellow trail. They soon disappeared. One of them was Mike (I had met Mike very early on just after the start; I believe he said this was his first ultra.). Later, on the purple trail, I made one of the switchback turns near the top and found Mike leaning up against a rock. He did not look too good. He said he was nauseous which he said had never happened to him before and he said he was in a cold sweat. I have been taking personal motivation classes from Anstr, and I tried to imagine what he would have said to Mike. Probably: “You look like shit, Mike. When you die, do you want us to bury you here on the mountain or send your body back to your hometown?” I was more circumspect and merely said: “Welcome to Massanutten.” I gave him a SUCCEED capsule and offered him some peanut butter crackers (he took one). He asked how long he would feel this way. I said a long time. He said he would wait a minute or so and then continue. I said I doubt it. (Anstr would have been proud of me.) Amy and Steve (more about them later) came by, and Amy gave him half an energy bar. We left him (perhaps to die). I told him we were about 15 minutes from the road. Unbelievably, when I left the last aid station, I looked back and saw him coming up the road. Although I thought I had a pretty strong finish from that aid station, he finished only 6 minutes behind me. As I said before, unbelievable. I’m now beginning to wonder what was in that SUCCEED capsule I gave him. Surely not the ground-up poppy flowers from Germany; I’m sure I left those in my other bag at home.

The last aid station is one I’ll remember for a long time. I took off my Camelbak and had it filled and put it back on. Then I remembered I wanted some GU packs out of it. Not wanting to take it off again, I asked Michele “Rocket” Burr if she would open my pack and get them out. She said, “I can’t.” It wasn’t as if she was doing anything, and I do remember the Universal Race Volunteer’s Creed that begins, “I will do whatever the runner wants…” It was no big deal, but I was kind of curious, so I said, “Why not?” And she said, “Because I just did my nails.” DID YOUR WHAT?

By this time, Amy and Steve arrived. I had only seen them once and that was back on the purple trail. But I had heard them talking several times during the day, so I knew there was a couple not too far behind me. It was kind of annoying. Here I am completely soaked with sweat and have been for hours, my heart is pounding, my breathing is labored, etc., and here are these two—chatting gaily as if they are on a stroll, not sweating at all, and looking like they just started the race. You know the type. To make matters worse, Amy asks for a beer! My first thought: don’t ask Michele to open it for you because she just did her nails. My second thought: I'm going to really push it on this last section because I don’t want to get passed by someone who has had a beer at the last aid station.

I couldn’t wait to press on. I sort of ran/walked up the road to where the grass began and took off running. As I was coming down Bird Knob, I saw Phil Young and Janet Vincent up ahead. I had seen them at the race start, and Phil planned to carry his dog in a dog thingy (I don’t know what you call it) for most of the race. And here they all were. I couldn’t believe as hard as I was working that day that they were actually ahead of me, especially when he’s carrying a dog. They didn’t hear me approach them, and I said, “I can’t believe you’re ahead of me.” I apparently startled them because Janet jumped a bit and blurted out, “Ahhh! I thought you were the mother.” I was wondering if this day could get any weirder: I had come across a near-dead runner on the purple trail who is miraculously resurrected, the Rocket can’t help me because she’s painted her nails, and Amy is downing a beer so she can finish. And now here is somebody who thinks I’m the mother. Mother of what? It just so happens that Phil and Janet just spotted a bear cub when I came along, and they thought I was the mother bear approaching from the rear. Phil said I could take point and told me to look for the cub. I specifically did not look for the cub because if I did see it I knew I would never let Gary hear the end of it.

I continued on my way trying to keep up my head of steam, still trying to run faster downhill. I was surprised how well I was doing downhill, especially the part below the Visitors Center. I discovered that you can’t think about where you’re going to step. You just have to launch yourself off a rock and let your subconscious figure out where your next footfall is going to be. I think I was about a mile from the finish before I rolled my ankle pretty good (I suppose it had to happen some time). I was able to run/hobble to get my speed down to a slow run. I didn’t want to stop moving because I thought it would be harder to get running again. It was sore, and my only thought was how soon I could get back up to speed. I slowly increased my speed and was soon running full tilt (at least for me). Good thing, too, because shortly thereafter Jeff was on the trail taking my picture.

After the race, we all sat in camp chairs roasting hot dogs over the fire and singing folk songs long into the night. Nah, I just made that up. But there was food at the finish, and many people did “hang out” for a while. Afterwards, Bill Van Antwerp and I headed on up to Front Royal and had dinner at the Royal Diner. As you can tell, Bill is one of those quiet, introspective kind of guys, and it took me awhile to convince him to go out to eat. Anyway, what a fabulous place! Real milkshakes in metal cups for just one example. I can’t believe no one told me about this place earlier. A great ending to a great day.

As for the suggestion that the purple trail be included in MMT100: as I mentioned above, I did the purple trail on the same day as I did over 20 miles of the MMT00 course. The “logical” thing is to do what I did: go up the purple trail and then down to 211 East and then up Waterfall Mt. Since this would be at 50+ miles into the race, my only question would be would we have enough rescue vehicles to transport the “victims” from Waterfall Mt. to nearby local hospitals.

To Mike who ran his first ultra in excellent time and survived the purple trail, I call upon Jimi to say:

Purple blaze all in my brain
Baby-things they don't seem the same
I'm acting funny
but I don't know why
Excuse me while I kiss the sky!

And one last thought: I have to admit that Michele did do a good job on her nails.