Calico 50k? Re-Cap #26
Exiting Ghost Town Road (no, this isn’t Knott’s but oddly enough used to be) and heading to the abandoned Silver/Borax mines of 1899, we notice a sign to “Fort Irwin.” Fort Irwin? Are adults in these parts still playing Cowboys & Indians? We thought forts were made from cardboard boxes by kids. Aren’t modern-day military installations called “bases?" Maybe they’re still fighting wild Indians outside Calico. But, didn’t we already commandeer the Indians’ land and then give them better real estate with unrestricted gaming rights for bilking the evil “white man’s” bank account one quarter at a time? Do we still need a “fort” outside Calico? Is Osama Bin Laden planning to broadside the left back quarter panel of Billy Ray’s tractor-trailer rig with a jumbo jet? Scanning the terrain from the safety of our Corinthian leather-lined Chevy Impala, we inventoried the surroundings. Car payments appeared to be outweighing house (trailer) payments, belt buckles were preferred forms of legitimate IDs and three-legged dogs had replacing ADT home security response. We were having reservations (no pun intended) about the whole scenario. Pulling into the Calico Ghost Town parking lot is like nestling into a crater created by a 2,000-pound, bunker-busting bomb. Looking straight out of our now-stationary After going anaerobic on the most technical stairs in the universe, nothing was more exciting than the early-morning paperwork that greeted us along with the morning chill. I had filled out less paperwork re-financing my house.Trying to navigate thru the Personally, we liked the desolate course. It was certainly nothing like we had ever witnessed before. The first section is beyond boring but that works great. From downhill street running to access road, to access road, to access road, it all looked remarkable similar. They say that Calico’s Silver mines shut down over 100 years ago but, if its breath taking scenery you’re looking for you're definitely going to feel “shafted.” Jeep tracks, fence posts, broken cinder block and is that a burned-out car or someone’s home? Again, no problem. It’s all good. While the middle of this run is a hellish, gradual 10-mile climb, every mile brings you closer to jagged rocks, unique hill formations and scary campers which form the spinal column of this run; The Hills Have Eyes! At approximately mile 20, you’re treated to a whopping 224 yards of the most technical and steep single track of any course. Here’s a first. At no time were we worried about mountain lions; pit bulls did come to mind. Poison ivy was of no concern as the only green plants were in some dude’s trailer closet encased in a hydroponic tank. This is the same person whose pre-recorded alarm clock shouts out, “This is the FBI, freeze don’t move!” Great conditioning for an early morning raid. But honestly, the last miles were beyond entertaining. The whoop-de-doos were fun to run up and then rocket down. There were so many first-time occurrences on this course it’s hard to keep track. We’ve never been on a run and not seen a single bug. We’ve never witnessed so many people camping with chainsaws in a desert with no trees; was that a blood stained hockey mask? Saw blades as divisional winner’s plaques? Were circular saws used to cut through solid rock in 1901 for silver extraction? Maybe a shovel head or dusty lung would’ve been more thematic. Here’s a good one: I got “crocked” at mile 21 by none other than Lorraine Gersitz. Wearing socks inside (no joke) a self-admitted, $18 pair of Croc rubber clogs, she kicked OK, put the kids to bed and read this in the closet. Rarely do we seriously rag on any one aspect of an event. But, you’ve just run 32 or 33 miles and you’re starving. Here, have three microwaved meatballs and don’t gobble them up to fast, you may cramp! We wrote that food rant before finding out that the Calico Restaurant was closed down by As for course markings, whoever marked the course may have guzzled a few too many Budweisers while puking and drawing purty arrows in the sand. Who let Britney Spears, after a binge party night, mark the course? Sure she’s good at drawing nice fat white lines but that’s usually on a mirror with the aid of a razor blade or edge of a black AMEX card. Somewhere between mile 8 and 13, to the surprise of the participants, we were instructed to do a 1.4 -mile-plus out and back that wasn’t part of the historical course. What’s a few extra miles among friends? Anybody with one hydration bottle was like, “Oh crud.” The look on the runners’ faces as they navigated this pointless detour was one of sheer uncertainty. We thought we had accidentally hit the backside of the 30k course. Turns out some of the locals decided to use the ribbons for an early morning aerial Sudafed drop and forgot about their manners and the whole “put things back the way you found them.” The entire run reminded us of a “Mad Max” film: nothing but rocks, dirt, bunch of As I don’t know a ton of people who will casually run a 50-miler one weekend and then follow it up seven days later with a 50k. And, we only know one person who wins a 50-miler and then follows it up by winning a 50k the very next weekend. You guessed it, the incredible Michelle Barton. OMG! The iMichelle not only won the Avalon 50 miler on Jan. 13 in near-record time (7:25:00), she follows up seven days later by winning the Calico 52k in 4:37:50. I think most people would be OK with the combined time of under 12 hours for the 50-miler alone. If ultra running were a spectator sport, Michelle would be a household name. Watching the Packers/Giants game with some buddies after the race, we got into a sport-idol preference debate. One of my friends mentioned Michael Jordan and the other picked Cal Ripken Jr. I mentioned Tiger Woods and also Michelle Barton. They’re like, “Who’s Michelle Barton?” I loosely explained, knowing they were too removed to get it. They replied , “Girls don’t run in the mountains, she must waddle like a bear.” I didn’t even respond and just barked back at my buddy who was on his 20th jumbo prawn: “Hey lunch box, the ocean called, they’re running out of shrimp.” Girls don’t run in the mountains. He was right. Women do -- studly women, and they continually kick most everyone’s butt. The Orange County Trail Runners were in full force. Greg Hardesty, resting up for Costa Rica’s “Coastal Challenge,” wasn’t present so Kirk Fortini’s (6:55:00) stunt hair stepped in and did some excellent work. Kirk was spotted in the parking lot teasing his hair with a dog brush and in Calico it all made perfect sense. Jennifer Forman (5:49:03) wasn’t around to grab her saw blade plaque so Alexa Dickerson (6:23:09) grabbed it and immediately entered into the movie “Saw IV” as it nearly sliced her jugular, leaving her for dead. I could just see Jenn100 throwing the trophy to her husband as she entered the house: “Oops, better call 911. This sucker’s real!” We weren’t aware Home Depot sold trophies. We were surprised to see speedster Kyle Hoang (4:34:50) as he recently got married and that wedding band looked heavy as it choked his second finger. Kyle momentarily dropped his ring in the ominous cave section and was spotted crawling on all fours repeating the words “precious.” We’re not sure what it means but good thing Kyle can still manage to kick everyone’s rump despite having to do most of his recent base mileage in Westminster Mall’s Crate & Barrel. Don’t worry Kyle, you’ll get even faster with a few kids. Rob (Robo) Cowan (5:01:49) ran home and went for a run. In a few weeks, Robo would take overall second place in the 2008 Rocky Raccoon 50 Miler. Chris Diaz (8:23:36), better known as lsdchris, not only completed the 50k but also put together a nice psychedelic drug deal at around mile 26; a true multi-tasking engineer. Eric Kosters (5:21:09) slid under the radar making it all look so easy. Chino’s nice guy and OCTR’s Vice President said and did all the right things, as usual; let your finishing times do your talking. Wendy Garcia (4:33:59) ran the 30k but had to quickly return home and plug back into the wall socket. Those perfectly proportioned Stepford Wives (version 1.0) only have an 18-hour remote battery life. Honestly, you haven’t seen her immaculate house. No warm-blooded mammal can do that. James Howorth (6:54:30) left his Coto de Caza estate and blessed the crowd. An ex-Harley guy, no doubt he had friends in them there hills. James was seen asking one of the roving medical aid guys where the association pool was as he had to go potty. The volunteer pointed straight down.
Oh, it’s time for the Keira Henninger report brought to you by RECOVER-ease. If you don’t use this stuff Keira says “Great, more for me.” Coming off a major disappointment at the Avalon 50 due to a sleepless night that resulted in a “going thru the motions” jog to the initial aid station and back, we knew the blond Barbie doll with a “tude” would be on an absolute mission at the Calico 50k. Screw Ken and his gay sports car, Keira had a much more dramatic scenario sketched out instead of going to the beach with some tanned dude missing his lap utensils. Keira would spend much of the race out front with Kyle Hoang and Josh Nordell. Less than two years ago, Keira thought Kyle & Josh were hairdressers from Van Nuys. However, today she knew exactly who they were and what they do. She was comfortably in their presence, they in hers. Keira finished in the top 10 (4:58:58) and third female just minutes behind super runner Ashley Nordell and first female android the iMichelle; where do these ladies stick all their trophies? For someone who ran her first ultra in seven hours on Nov. 17, 2006, Keira’s Calico 50k in 4:01:00 is amazing. The performance improvement is off the charts but make no mistake it’s completely deliberate, intentional and still on the upswing. If you’re a lead male or female ultra runner, there’s a new Sheriff in Calico and it’s a chick; relax, we mean that in the most respectful manner. Get on Keira’s bad side and you might as well leave the sport. Like her running, she’s relentless. Normally we get a big hug at the finish line from Keira but fame has its responsibilities. Immediately after crossing the finish line, Keira was whisked away by handlers into the vegan mobile along with husband/bodyguard Paul (5th degree black belt – fact) and the Silver mines were ancient history. Staring at my phone on the long solo drive home, I waited pathetically for Keira’s customary text message, ”How’d u do?” Nothing. After an hour, I succumbed to ringing her estate only to get a receptionist who told me to stop calling. Keira was in the spa polishing medals. Just then “Don’t Forget Me When I’m Gone” by Glass Tiger hit the Sirius Satellite Radio and I pondered my pathetic existence. It’s always good to see studly Dennis Koors (5:29:55) and his wonderful girlfriend Amy. You can tell they’re not married as Amy still attends all of Dennis’ races. Yeah, go talk to Kyle. George Velasco (8:09:24) was there but we didn’t initially recognize him without Leigh Corbin by his side bitching and moaning about some training regiment he was forcing her into. If Mars had a race, those two Bosom Buddies would run it. Robert Harris (6:33:32), fresh off protecting us in some foreign land, dropped by to see what fighting in Iraq might look like. Robert was spotted chatting it up with Balboa Island’s Robert Baird (6:45:28). Mr. Baird obviously prefers weekends with quad runners and dust versus sail boats and ocean spray. One of the world’s greatest pacers and Rubix Cube pro Pat Knoff, while not exactly fresh, completed the Calico Motocross course in 6:52:28;about 6 hours and fifty minutes longer than it takes him to solve that multi-colored cube fiasco. Shelli Sexton (6:39:33) looking slim and trim drove her massive Excursion to the race instead of one of her horses; never know what those meatballs might be made of. Skip Molina (6:58:01) ran the relatively unknown 42k option which included hanging out at an aid station waiting for his homie James Howorth. Normally that behavior would be odd but with everything else going on it actually seemed normal. Lori Heinselman-Craig (6:42:14) fresh off ankle surgery was certainly following doctors orders. "Rest for a few weeks and then run 33 miles." HMO or Doctors R Us?
Josh (4:16:17) and Ashley Nordell (4:53:22) were together once again. The Bonnie and Clyde ultra team reeks of pure fitness. Between them, they have a combined resting heart rate of 63 beats per minute; 10 beats lower than your average sponge diver. Always great to see, many times a champ, Anne Langstaff (6:30:03). Could somebody loan her some cartilage or a robotic knee joint? Xy Weiss (7:09:12) ran in her usual formal white attire. I’m not going to directly comment on the finisher key chain but instead allow the conversation with my six-year old to illustrate the point. Son: “Hey, Dad.” Next time, are we bringing our own post-race food, crappy-don’t-care-if-we-lose-it drop bag and awarding ourselves a new tech shirt for finishing? Yep. The Calico 50k is the most eclectic, out in left field, outside the bun ultra you’ll find. Being ultra runners in search of adventure it definitely answers the bell. If you’re looking for an ultra event put on by hard-core, buffed out ultra runners with 11 x 17 race result resumes (Noble Canyon 50k), forget it. Requirements for Calico volunteering work is being at ease with body fat and having no issue with fried Snickers bars. Kevin Bean would win the 2008 Calico 50k in a house-hold cleaner spray time of 4:09:09. Apparently, if your name has a Dean in it or something that sounds like that, you're an ultra rock star; Dean Dobberteen, Dean Karnazes, Kevin Dean...the list goes on and on. Well, it’s time to go put in 10 miles and then immediately down a microwaveable gyro and some fried pork rinds; already acclimating for next year. Written, ran and reported by Charlie Nickell. Edited and ran by OC Register reporter Greg Hardesty. Summary: When: Sunday, January 20, 2008 Where: Calico, CA Race Director: Jeff Robbins Course Description: Harder than it looks. Save yourself for the middle 10 miles. Top finishers: Men Women |
What the @!!#!@!!. Forget that half the runners don’t even eat meat. How did we go from an all-you-can-eat buffet to three balls inside a hot dog bun on steroids? At this point, a 
