Since its inception three years ago, the DBICC(ITB)R race has become my favorite race. It reminds me of my early Dipsea training runs where we would try to fine “alternate routes”.  Sometimes we would actually find shorter paths to Stinson, but usually we would just run ourselves into the ground and get poison oak and bee stings.

 

Last Sundays race was going precisely according to plan, until Scott said “GO”. Starting on the bike path, I told Roy I was going to follow him, then outrun him at the finish line like that guy tried last year. It didn’t work for me either because a few yards later, Roy and Rob Flatland took off in separate directions, leaving me in the dust. Shortly, David, Jed, and Nick all caught up and took a route I had not expected. I followed a short distance, and then backtracked to plan B, which took me up Madrone, Redwood or Baltimore Canyon, all the same place, but with various historic names still commonly used to describe this beautiful area.

 

Taking the smaller trail past Barbara Spring, and climbing up to Blithedale Ridge, I was followed closely by Chris Greene, and further down the hill, Tomas. Chris and I ran together for a while, and heard Tomas grunting and trudging through some very dense foliage below the road. Chris is a very talented cyclist and runner. He placed fourth in this years hill climb, and holds the record for the cycling hill climb up railroad grade, and did this on a single speed bike! He soon pulled away from me before Indian Fire Trail.

 

My biggest goal was to get to Lake Lagunitas with as big a lead as possible, because I’m not that fast on flat roads, and the runners that I might be ahead of at the top would certainly reel me in on the flat sections below. Rob is one of these people, as well as Dave, Greg, Jed, Mike and most of the rest of the field. Climbing up I passed Janet on the Indian Fire Trail, she told me my place, fifth at that point. I figured Roy and Chris were ahead, and probably Jamie and Judy. Rob passed me shortly after, then Tomas caught up and we ran together to the top. That means Jed, David, Greg, Mike, Nick, Dave and several others are still possibly behind me. I didn’t know where anyone else was, so I panicked. I tore down the East Peak Fire Trail, which isn’t very runnable, whacked my head on a low branch, and ran past Boy George while he mumbled a delicate, little song.

 

When I was a kid we used to hike to the top of Tam, then run down this trail and dive into a certain type of brush that would, if you did it right, spring you back onto your feet like an inclined trampoline! One time a friend dove into a crag of Manzanita, which is like diving into a pile of very sharp knives, and cut a huge gash in his leg. We patiently demonstrated the proper diving technique, and the right type of plant, ran the rest of the way and then brought him to the hospital. 

   

Anyway, at the top, Tomas took off in a different direction, apparently to swim across the lake and cut off too large coves. I too was going to swim, until I suddenly realized I forgot my Speedo, so swimming was out of the question; I’d have to run the entire way.

I made it Lagunitas, ran hard on the flat roads, caught up with Chris past the Sky Oaks ranger station, crossed the BoFax road and ran on to the Concrete Pipe road, where suddenly Rob was 40 yards behind, and closing fast. I told Chris I knew of a little known trail called the “Raging Squirrel” trail, but I wasn’t exactly sure where it was. I told Chris he was welcome to join me, but there was a risk of getting lost or hurt. As Rob flew by, I decided to take a chance, and off the road Chris and I went, plunging down through the forest slipping and sliding at a high rate of speed.  It turned out that this faint little trail put us ahead of Rob, and Chris and I finished 4^th and 5^th overall.  Roy, Jamie and Judy were cheering for us at the finish line. But where was Tomas? I heard he spent several tense minutes in the Sky Oaks jail, until Dipsea Boy bailed him out. We shouldn’t talk about it here.

 

Many many thanks to the Schneiders for putting up with us and sharing their fine food and comfortable home. And a very sincere thanks to the Dipsea Boy. Without you, Roger would probably be putting this race on.

 

-Brad