Subject: The ethical and moral quandaries of running sweep at the MacDonald Forest 50k Date: Tue, 2 May 2000 20:45:39 -0700 From: "The Morelocks" Hi Folkses, Wow, maybe even wowses. Clem put together another wonderful run for us. I am adding the "maybe even wowses" because from my point of view (Senior Sweep Technician) the runners were real good at NOT leaving cups, wrappers, shoes, and things on the trail for me to pick up. Thank you all. In a bit of an exposé, I found out what allows Megan and Nate to do what they did (run really fast). I cannot find anyone who saw them sinking into the mud as they ran. Next year they will be given a designated rock to carry, nothing real big, and round so it rolls easy. I was running sweep again this year. I get a long day in the woods, free aid stations, and lots of people to talk to. As I passed Cap House, the woman in front of me said I could go on by and I said no, and explained my official position to her. She was only marginally impressed, but did note the wizened stature and calming demeanor of this person they called "Sweep" in hushed tones. This was Fenny Roberts' first trail ultra. Hmmm, should I tell her things might be a bit muddy on up the way. Clem, in spite of everything else he does so well, has not been able to stop the rain. We got to the Old Growth Trail, said good morning to the elderly trees and saw the first of the trail sections made slippery by the earlier passing of 183 pairs of feet. It appears some folks were not passing lightly through the woods today. We passed the aid station at Lewisburg and headed up another hill. Fenny asked if there were many hills. Another quandary. Lies or gentle misstatements? Ha! Subjective statements are neither. After all, we all see things differently, eh? "No, not too hilly, what's 6,000 feet scattered over 32 miles?" And Fenny smiled. And we continued toward Horse Trail. As we went down Horse, Fenny commented that the trail was in pretty good shape for all the people in front of us. I decided not to mention Baker Creek and Alien and Uproute and ... for now. I just mumbled, "Yes, it is." And Fenny smiled and we started up Dan's Trail to Dimple Peak. We got up to Dimple, one-third done, ate slices of orange, wondered how long they, the wonderful aid station people, would stay there if I didn't tell them I was sweep, ate some banana, wondered some more, had a drink and told them I was sweep. Maybe next year. We wandered off towards Baker Creek ... and the mud slides. Fenny smiled as I told her it was a mile and a half of downhill to Baker Creek. We slid, slud, slod, and several other tenses of slide as we went down Baker Creek. Fenny decided she didn't like the downhill mud section and asked if we went down much longer. I said no. Then I added, "Now we have to go up Alien." And Fenny smiled at being almost done with the downhill mud of Baker Creek. Kathy, my wife, got me two CDs for my birthday, one by Janis Joplin, one by Kenny G. They both seemed to fit one section or another of the trail, soulful blues or mellow, as we worked our way up Alien and over the hump and down Extendo. As we left the aid station at the bottom of Extendo and I mentioned the passing of the half-way point, Fenny asked, "Are there more trail sections like we just came off of?" Since I could truthfully say no, I said, "No." And Fenny smiled and we did the walk/shuffle/jog towards Endo. We pushed and pulled each other up Endo. Fenny voiced some concern about my ability to judge trail conditions. I said they were really in good condition considering we were behind 4,326 other runners and it had sprinkled a little bit Friday evening. And we started around the bench towards South Side Slip and up to McCulloch, the high point on the course. At McCulloch, I said its downhill from here to Soap Creek and Fenny smiled ... and then she looked at me. And for the first time that day there was some doubt in her eyes. We said go home to the folks at the aid station and stretched out the stride going down the 790 and the 700 and the 760 and through Iris Meadows and on to Stick In The Eye and we was doing the lookin' good all the way down to the Soap Creek gate and aid station. And then Fenny asked if there were any more uphills, and got that look in here eye, again. I said there was one sort of short, kinda steep one --- Funnel Cake, and then it was downhill to Waddayaknow. Fenny didn't smile going up Funnel Cake --- tree hugging took on a new meaning, but we got up and then slid off down the trail to the 800 road and on towards that last little bit of uphill. Boy, wowses, the hand rails were gone, the carpet had been rolled up, and the escalator was out of service. Twenty-six miles into the Mac and the steep has gone and got intense. Fenny asked how long does this go on. "Not long," I said in that wonderfully calming way Sweeps are trained to do. And Fenny smiled. And suddenly we were out of the trail and on the road. The blue sky greeted us and that look was there as another neophyte realizes, "Hey! I can do this thing." We headed towards the last aid station at Lewisburg. Fenny went down the trail from Peavy Peak to the finish line with renewed energy. The mud was just as real as the mud a half mile away on the outbound leg had been, but it didn't seem as sticky now, not quite as slippery now, why you can run in it now. And Fenny smiled as she crossed the finish line at the cabin. Welcome to ultrarunning. Careful. It is addictive. Thanks to Clem and everyone for another wonderful day. Run gently out there, John M.