A photo of race headquarters, taken moments after I got my car stuck in the ice. Luckily, I got it out with the help of a fellow racer. Ten hours later.
The mountain we would be running up and down all day long.
Some of the participants in the Death Race. After chopping and stacking wood, they had to go for a swim in the pond, and then walk to the bonfire for a tv interview. I was sitting at the bonfire when a hot Death Race girl came by in her underwear to give an interview. Then she said to me, "Sorry, but I have to take my bra off." Then, I heard Rod Serling's voice in the background...
The Death Race participant on the left now has to wrestle with a US Olympic wrestler. If he stays inside the ring with him for 60 seconds, he doesn't have to bring a wheelbarrow full of wood to the top of the mountain. Hey, it was worth a try!
RD Andy Weinberg lays down the law at the race start. I wish he would have started busting out some rhymes, but no such luck. The race was very well organized, and although he said the aid stations had "minimal aid", I had a lot of hot chicken soup, some cookies, pretzels, coconut water, soda, heed, and candy. I wonder what he would call a fully stocked aid station. Perhaps some escargot, caviar, and foie gras?
We are off! I had time to take a picture due to the usual congestion at race start. I love watching people run/stop/walk/repeat for the first mile.
The first of many hills. 7,200 feet of elevation gain is nothing to laugh at, or about, or in any manner related to said gain, unless you are sitting at home looking at this picture. Then you may laugh to scorn the power of elevation, for none of mountain born shall harm Maclazy.
The first three miles of the loop were basically hills, with some switchbacks. The back 3.5 was mostly downhill, but the RD did manage to find some uphill sections as well. Thanks.
Switchbacks. If I had been faster with the camera, this picture would involve two lines of people going in both directions, but instead it only reminds me of the photo that got away.
Each of the seven deadly sins were featured in the race. This one is laziness. I would have taken a better picture of it, but I was so apathetic that I was lethargic.
This is not what it looks like. I just wanted a nice picture of the mountain top aid station, but things quickly got out of hand.
Heading back down the mountain. A lot of snowshoers used ski poles for balance and to aid in climbing hills. They seemed to work pretty well, and I could also use them to prod my wife off the couch to get in the kitchen and make me some grub, woman!
This is the most unique bridge I have ever encountered. It is also the most deadly. I should very much like to host a reality show on "Most Deadliest Bridges". C'mon, Fox network, let's make it happen, people!
I am about to cross the bridge on my second loop, and I both photograph and am photographed. Notice my use of the active and passive verb tenses. I love temporal linguistic qualities!
That $%^& hill again. It looks so easy in this picture, but that may be because it is only about four inches in the picture. It was somewhat longer in real life.
Hey, let's use the stairs! They save energy and help maintain health! What a great idea!
Some more of that hill.
The hill leads to the labyrinth.
The labyrinth of third growth forest.
Told you it was a labyrinth. Or, in this case, a labrynth. Hey, not everyone is fastidious about the spelling of ancient Greek mythological locations.
A view from near the top of the mountain, back towards the race headquarters. It would be easier to see if someone would just come out and clear out all of these damn trees.
Some more of that same hill. Just when you think it is over, it is not.
Still up more.
As the race waiver we all signed says, "I may die!"
More of that bridge on my last loop. I was too tired to take pics on the third loop, and on this loop I was too tired not to take pics.
River. The Gungans would say "Meesa like dis."
The yellow pie plates were very helpful. I only got lost twice, and for me, that ain't bad!
Meesa like dis, okee-day?
These sheep were on hand to cheer me as I finished my first snowshoe marathon. I think they're sheep. They sure smelled like sheep, or at least like they were full of sheep.
I continue my senseless tradition of celebrating a race finish with bad 80's music.
The zipper broke on my nice shirt, so with my finisher's medallion and shaved head I look more like Kojak every day. Indeed, who does love you, baby?
My race swag. Technical shirt, beanie, and medal. Note the French and Indian war reference. For more info, visit http://www.peakraces.com/snowshoe/ Knowledge is power!