Ultrarunning History (Davy Crockett)

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast and a full article The fifty-mile race is a distance most of today's ultrarunners eventually run. In 2017 there were about 300 50-mile races held in America with about 16,000 unique finishers. At nearly twice the distance of a marathon, it truly involves a different approach than running a marathon both mentally and physically. Ultrarunning legend, David Horton once wrote, “Most ultra-runners, me included, consider that real ultras are 50 miles or longer.” Since the 1960s, the shorter distances (50K, etc.) were typically used by aspiring ultrarunners to train for completing at the 50-mile distance. When did the 50-mile race begin? Early classic American 50-milers include: the JFK 50 starting in 1963 in Maryland, the Metropolitan 50 starting in 1971 in Central Park, New York City, the Lake Waramaug 50 starting in 1974 in Connecticut, and the American River 50 started in 1980 in California. But just as 100-mile races in America did not originate with Western States in the 1970s, the 50-miler did not originate with the JFK 50 in 1963. In all began much earlier than that. 50-milers From Long Ago "Anciently" in 1592 a footrace of just over 50 miles was held in northern France. It was won in twelve hours by a runner from what now is southern Netherlands. In 1787, Reed, of Hampshire, England, walked 50-miles on the sands of Weymouth in a little more than nine hours. Also around that time it was said that Foster Powell, from England ran 50 miles in seven hours. Worldwide, competing for 50 miles on foot had been around, as far back as the 1820s. But it wasn’t until around 1870 that 50-mile races started to be held regularly. They were conducted in various circumstances, indoors, outdoors, tracks, roads, in loops, and point-to-point. Most of the early races were competed indoors on small tracks by professional pedestrian walkers who also competed in six-day events. Challenges and wagers were a key reason these 50-mile events were put on, along with the profits to be gained from spectator gate proceeds. Many times gifted walkers or runners would post challenges in newspapers to specific runners or all-comers to race 50-miles for large amounts of money. 50-mile walking races The 50-mile races conducted in the 1880s were walking events with strict walking "heel and toe" rules. In America the earliest 50-mile walking competition that could be found was held in 1870. James Adams of New York won a “50 Miles Champion’s Cup of the United States.” Several head-to-head races between two walkers were also held. For many of these 50-mile matches, once a walker quit, the other walker was declared the winner and didn't go on for the full 50 miles. Agricultural Hall How fast could they strictly walk 50 miles? In 1877, pedestrian legend, Daniel O’Leary (1841-1933), in a 100-mile challenge match against John Ennis for $500, walked 50 miles in 8:41:30 in the Exposition Building in Chicago for an American best time. In 1878 that time was improved when William McCann of Albany New York walked a 8:36 in a solo trial walk to get ready for a high stakes challenge race. The world walking best around that time was set in 1878 by British walker, William Howes, with an amazing walking time of 7:57:41 in the Agricultural Hall in London. Buffalo, New York was the home of many walking contests including an amateur 50-miler in 1879 with seven starters. The second-place walker protested the race, claiming that the winner was seen running. Go-as-you-please 50-milers In 1879 “Go as you please” 50-mile events were established that allowed the competitors to run. Amateurs entered the sport around that time started to dominate 50-mile competitions. Distance "records" were divided into professional and amateur records. Races of twenty-five miles were much more common, but over the years, the 50-miles distance in England and the United States became recognized as an ultradistance standard,

Welcome to Ultrarunning History Podcast. In this introductory episode, you will hear what the podcast will contain and I’ll reveal a little about myself, what it is like living with the name, Davy Crockett. These episodes won’t be dry history lessons from some old stodgy history professor. They will be fun with plenty of lame jokes from some old stodgy ultrarunner. In this episode I will answer some questions such as: What is it like living with the name Davy Crockett? When did I become interested in Ultrarunning History? What can you expect in the upcoming episodes? Listen and find out!  Make sure you subscribe and tell your friends about the Podcast.

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast and a full article During the World War II period in 1940s, ultradistance races in America totally disappeared. Many of the talented runners turned in their leather running shoes for leather boots and served their country in war. But as servicemen, there were many endurance activities that took place both on the bases and on the battle field. A “forced march” is a relatively fast march over a distance carrying a load. It was a common military exercise during the war. These marches were fast hikes with full military gear. Their history can be traced back to Roman legions who were required to march 18.4 miles carrying 45 pounds in 12 hours. Incredible marches occurred in times of war covering ultradistances. Most have been forgotten. There were very many that can be found for those who want to search the pages of history. A few noteworthy marches from 1941-45 are covered in this article to illustrate the toughness and determination of servicemen who put their lives on hold to defend freedom. Infantries liked to keep marching records. In 1916 two companies from the 4th Missouri Infantry marched a distance of 45 miles in 15 hours during the Mexican Border War. The march broke all known marching records for US troops. The Japanese Forced March In 1942 as World War II was raging and less than a year since that Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, an article was published in Reader’s Digest sharing a story of an amazing Japanese Forced march that was part of their training. The Japanese claimed that one of their army units had set a new marching record. It got the attention of US servicemen who were training for battle. The Japanese march occurred prior to the bombing of Pearl Harbor. An American observer marched with the Japanese company and wrote the fascinating article. The observer explained that each man carried a firearm, 150 rounds of ammunition and a 40-pound pack. The march commenced in a driving rain at 3 a.m. “Roads turned into quagmires, rifles, packs, clothing, shoes were water-soaked. All morning, all afternoon and half of the night the regiment slogged on.” By midnight the troops had marched 31 miles. They halted for a half hour to eat and adjust packs. By 8 p.m. the next evening the regiment had marched another 30 miles. Before they could eat, they were required to dig a 600-yard of trench. “As each squad completed its section, they gulped a helping of rice, then fell asleep in the trench.” After only four hours’ sleep the men were ordered to make a forced march back to their barracks. Up to this point they had marched 61 miles in 40 hours with only five hour’s rest. “Once again the regiment took to the road in the darkness before dawn. The march continued all day in a broiling sun. The river of packs moved forward. Hour after hour the long serpent of weary men struggled through the darkness. There were two 20-minute halts that night. After rice balls at 6 a.m. we went on in the dogged silence of iron determination.” At noon as they approached the finish, an order came to double-time. This group had marched 122 miles in 72 hours with only four hours of sleep. The weary column broke into a painful ragged trot. The gates of the barracks finally came into sight. The observer wrote, “They were home. The forced march, which no other army in the world could have endured, was completed.” The Japanese colonel explained about conducting the final mile in double-time. “Tired men can always march just one more mile to take another enemy position. This is the only way to prove it to them.” One man who collapsed during the double-time later died in a hospital. The Paratrooper 155-mile March Colonel Robert F. Sink (1905-1965), commanding officer over the 506th U.S. Parachute Infantry Regiment, in the 101st Airborne Division, wanted to conduct a "toughening practice” and felt his men could do better than the Japanese. The Regiment was located at a paratrooper training sc...

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast episode and a full article There is a special breed of ultrarunner that historian Jim Shapiro in 1980 called the “solo artist.” These runners usually had solid ultrarunning abilities, but instead of regularly completing in races, they used their abilities to accomplish stunts. This was done to garner attention from spectators and fans and to gain income and sponsorships. Solo artists would always invent and claim “world records.” They had creative nicknames and their marketing people would prop them up as being the “world's greatest runner.” Solo artists have always existed in ultrarunning and still exist today. In the 1920s and 1930s as professional running races were drying up, many of the ultrarunners of that time used their creativity to become a solo artist. They did various stunts and accomplished numerous point-to-point "journey runs” to claim “world records” or what today we call a “fastest known times” for a runs between cities. Some of the solo artists fabricated their accomplishments to bolster their running resume. Reporters at the time just believed and published what the runner or their manager would say about them without any verification. Fabrication of accomplishments even happens today. Many of these solo artists were fascinating charismatic characters who had impressive running abilities and accomplished many outlandish stunts. One of these amazing characters was “The Flying Yank,” John J. Seiler (1903-1983) of Brooklyn, New York. He would leave a lasting impression on tens of thousands of fans and young high school students by putting on entertaining running stunts, organizing city hikes, and giving interesting lectures on fitness and health.  Young Runner Emerges John Seiler said that as early as sixteen years old, he started to do long journey walks. He came out of nowhere and said he was a "champion pedestrian." He claimed that in 1919 at the age of 16 he had walked from New York to Los Angeles, 3,500 miles on the Lincoln Highway, in three months, twenty days, beating Edward Payson Weston’s mark by 13 days. He also claimed that he had walked from Boston to Jacksonville, Florida in 24 days, slicing seven days off the “record.” He said he had run from New York to Philadelphia, a distance of 106 miles in 24 hours. Were all these accomplishment true at such a young age? We will never know for sure. In 1921 at the age of 18 he claimed to have walked from Brooklyn, New York to Houston, Texas, taking a round-about route for a distance of about 2,500 miles. Newspapers found him in various cities along the way. By stitching those stories together, he traveled at a believable rate of about 28 miles per day. But in later years he claimed that he covered the entire distance in only 44 days which was an impossibility at that pace. This was the first clue that perhaps some of Seiler's claims were grossly exaggerated. The Flying Yank of Tampa, Florida In 1921 at the age of 18, Seiler claimed that he walked from Brooklyn, New York to Tampa, Florida, starting with only $10 in his pocket. He wanted to go to Tampa to put on running exhibitions. In Tampa, he started going by “The Flying Yank,” and had a vision of touring the country performing running stunts. He wisely sought to hire a manager and eventually did.   In November, 1921, Seiler put on a creative walking exhibition around a half-mile track at a baseball game in Hillsborough, Florida. He didn't just walk, he had a fascinating gimmick. A reporter wrote, “Seiler flew, turning around as he went and pacing backwards just for the fun of it, changing his stride and otherwise giving the fans in the grandstand some new wrinkles in what our heels and toes are for.” He made it around each lap in 4:30. He claimed that he was the amateur champion of the United States in heel and toe walking, but he wasn’t. He said that he could walk backward from second base to home plate in a “record” 13 seconds.

By Davy Crockett Both a podcast and a full article 1918 advertisement The original walkathons were not the relatively tame fundraising walks of the 1970s for causes. Instead these walkathons were brutal endurance events that had their heyday in the mid-1930s. These walkathons were not ultrarunning events. They were rather twisted walking events, if it could even be called walking. They were mostly a crazy test of enduring sleep deprivation. But still, it is important to understand the history of these competitions, because they had a negative impact on true extreme endurance sports such as ultrarunning in the minds of Americans for future decades. The Walkathon was believed to be invented in America, in 1913, at Terra Haute, Indiana. Achieving miles was not the objective. The goal for the walkathon was to survive for weeks and to be the last one standing. The walkathons were similar to the more despised dance marathons of that time. Both involved couples. The difference was that the walkathon contestants walked instead of danced. Because the name referred to walking, they didn’t carry the stigma of that time against dancing in many areas of the country. These contests were held in halls, playhouses, theaters, fairgrounds, and tents where participants walked nearly non-stop for days, weeks, and even months. Most walkers were quite young and they shuffled along with the hope of obtaining large prize money. Walkathons became big business because they attracted a huge number of spectators who were thrilled to witness suffering and to cheer their favorite couple. Thousands, and even tens of thousands of curious onlookers would pay 25-50 cents to watch the carnage as long as they pleased. The walkathons were so popular that they were even regularly broadcast multiple times per day by radio stations. Rules During a rest period, cots were brought out on the floor in front of the crowds. Contestants sleep or get treatment. Rules varied and could be changed mid-stream. In order to have an event last for weeks, generally after the first three hours, rests were given each hour. For example at a 1932 walkathon in Oregon, contestants would walk for 45 minutes, and then rest/sleep 11 minutes off stage. They would come back out at the sound of a gong or airhorn and then sit in front of the audience for four minutes getting ready for the next hour. Sometimes during the evenings, cots were brought out onto the floor in front of the crowds and walkers were forced to stay on the floor to rest and sleep. Man shaves while walking Couples walked together and could hold each other up when things got rough. One verteran contestant would hold his partner up for four hours while she slept on her feet. When rest periods came, they gained the skill of being able to fall asleep within ten seconds. If one member of the couple dropped (literally) out, the other person could continue for a time “solo” with the disadvantage of not being aided by another person. When another person of the opposite sex became available because their team member was also out, the two could team up as a new couple. Dancing was sometimes allowed among the contestants during hours stipulated by the state law and city ordinances. (Des Moines Register, Sep 1, 1929). The promoters took their events to various cities, renting halls and seeking entrants. One took his walkathon to Europe with a traveling company. Overseas, spectators wanted them to be even faster and more furious. When the company returned they brought home a new feature to the walkathon that was embraced by all of the promoters. The new feature was a daily one-hour “derby,” that spiced things up. In the evenings a derby would be used to thrill the spectators and further test the walkers even more. The “sprint” derby was popular which required the walking couple to cover a certain number of laps in a given time. Contestants often won prizes for being the best in the derby.

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast episode and a full article Endurance riding is the equestrian sport that includes controlled long-distance riding/racing. The sport has existed for more than a century in various forms. 100-mile trail ultramarathons, especially the Western States Endurance Run, Old Dominion 100, and Vermont 100 can trace their roots to endurance riding. Other trail 100s that emerged in the 1980s were also influenced by endurance riding practices. Ultrarunners should feel indebted to those of the endurance riding sport who had the vision to establish some early 100-mile trail races for runners. The trail 100-miler inherited many of the same procedures of aid stations, course markings, trail work, crews, medical checks, and of course the belt buckle award. Once ultrarunners understand their history, a common kinship is felt between the two sister endurance sports. So trade in your running shoes for horse shoes for a few minutes and learn about an inspiring and adventuresome endurance riding history that impacted the sport of ultrarunning. The Origins of the Endurance Riding Sport in America Usually the credit for establishing the endurance riding sport is given to Wendell Robie of Auburn, California when he initiated the Western States Trail Ride (Tevis Cup) in 1955. (That history will be covered in Part 2). But endurance riding competitions of various formats existed long before 1955. Vermont must be recognized as the birthplace for the endurance rides in America. Perhaps it depends on the definition for the “endurance ride.” The debate around the definition of what an endurance ride is, is similar to the definition of what an ultramarathon is. Is an ultramarathon anything over a marathon or do they start at 50 miles? One published definition for the endurance ride is “a timed test against the clock of an individual horse/rider team’s ability to traverse a marked, measured cross-county “trail” over natural terrain consisting of a distance of 50 to 100 miles in one day.” That is a modern, very limited definition especially the “trail” limitation, and the one-day limitation. But it still does apply to many very early endurance rides that predated the Western States Trail Ride. Just as ultramarathons did not originate with the 1977 Western States Endurance Run, organized endurance riding did not originate with the 1955 Western States Trail Ride as Wikipedia erroneously states. Such a claim can also be found in other histories on the Internet. Some of the early endurance ride pioneers and events seem to have been forgotten or pushed aside. Rides That Inspired Endurance Riding Sam Dale monument In 1814, Sam Dale (1772-1841), the "Daniel Boone of Alabama" made a famous 670-mile ride on horseback in eight days from Georgia to New Orleans in the dead of winter to deliver a dispatches from Washington D.C. to General Andrew Jackson during the War of 1812. Some have called this the "greatest ride in United States history." Francis Aubry Long before there was organized mail delivery, a French Canadian, Francis Aubry (1823-1852) was a American frontier legend who delivered mail from Santa Fe, New Mexico to Independence, Missouri during the war with Mexico during the 1840s. He purposely sought to break speed records and would on occasion ride his horses or mules to death. Depiction of Aubry's arrival at Missouri In 1848 Aubry accepted a bet of $1,000 that he could make the 800-mile ride between Santa Fe and Independence in six days. He made arrangements to switch horses at various locations along the route about 100 miles apart. He ate as he rode, tied himself to the saddle, and took brief naps. An army Major stated, “He passed my train at a full gallop without asking a single question as to the danger of Indians ahead of him.” After 100 miles he was going to switch out his yellow mare “Dolly,” but the relay station man had been killed and scalped and the horse were gone,

By Davy Crockett Both a podcast and a full article Runners seen through the window running 1970 Last Day Run For the common man, we frequently make history without knowing it at the time. As years pass, one can look back and discover that certain events, which at the time seemed insignificant, actually played an important part in history. Such events weren’t forgotten or pushed aside; their stories just had not been told.  Such is the case with "The Last Day Run.” Ultrarunning existed in the late 1800s and early 1900s. The participants were mostly professionals who performed for spectators. As the Great Depression hit, events for professional ultrarunners dwindled and dried up in America. But rising from the tragedy and ashes of World War II, ultrarunning events slowing appeared again, but this time for amateurs looking to test their endurance.  They were first hiking events such as the Padre Island Walkathon (110 miles) of the 1950s in Texas, and the JFK 50 starting in 1963 in Maryland. But soon running events surfaced and the term "ultramarathon" was first used around 1964. Absent in the pages of very early American ultrarunning history is the story of the “Last Day Run.” Please consider becoming a patron of ultrarunning history. Help to preserve this history by signing up to contribute a little each month through Patreon. Visit https://ultrarunninghistory.com/member The Los Angeles Athletic Club The Los Angeles Athletic Club The Los Angeles Athletic Club (LAAC) was established in 1880, the first private club in the city. Monthly dues were $1 per month that first year. In 1912 the club’s new home was established downtown in a 12-story building with an indoor swimming pool on its upper floor which caused quite a stir. In the 1950s the downtown club was modernized and by the 1960s an indoor, 165-yard rubber tartan track was built on the 7th floor. The indoor track would be the site of 1960’s ultrarunning history. Steve Seymour Steve Seymour (front) receives the Olympic silver medal in 1948 Steve Seymour (1920-1973), was an elite javelin thrower. He spent 1946 in Finland training with that nation’s world-class throwers. In 1947, he established an American record of 75.80 meters, within ten feet of the world record, which opened the door for him to compete at the 1948 Olympics where he was awarded the silver medal. In 1950 Steve achieved his third national championship in the event and in 1951 he was the silver medalist in the Pan American Games. Steve became a physician. He practiced as an osteopath and also operated a clinic for alcoholics. In 1965 Dr. Seymour didn't realize it, but he became an American ultrarunner pioneer as a long-time influential member of the Los Angeles Athletic Club.   The LAAC logo The Last Day Run Begins The year was 1965. Steve Seymour arranged to put on a 24-hour race at the indoor Los Angeles Athletic Club. It was called the “24-hour Last Day Run” and was held on Halloween. This event was very significant to American ultrarunning history for many reasons, the first being that it is believed to be the first modern-day American 24-hour race. Steve started the enthusiasm for this event by participating in it and going the furthest distance. It all started at 12:00 a.m., early on October 31, 1965. Steve ran 50 miles in 17.5 hours. Why was it held on Halloween, and why was it called “Last Day Run?” The event was called “Last Day” because it was associated with an annual 30-day “jog” competition that originated in California. This event was established in 1964 by the Olympic Club of San Francisco. Runners would run for 30 days in October. The club would award trophies to the running club with the highest total mileage, with the most participants, and with the highest average miles per person. In 1964 the LAAC participants totaled 3,897 miles. Steve Seymour decided to establish the 1965 “Last Day Run” to help the club competitors pile up miles...

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast episode and a full article You might ask, what does the history of endurance riding have to do with ultrarunning? There are many close parallels between these two endurance sports. Ultrarunners should feel indebted to those of the endurance riding sport who had the vision to establish some early trail 100-milers for runners. The trail 100-miler inherited many of the same procedures of aid stations, course markings, trail work, crews, medical checks, cut-off times, and of course the belt buckle award. Part 1 covered the very early history of Endurance riding up to 1955. By 1955 the sport of endurance riding had existed in America for more than 40 years since the initial competitive 1913 ride in Vermont. The sport was called “endurance riding” by those who participated in it for the early decades. Part 2 will cover the very significant birth of the famed Western States Trail Ride (aka Tevis Cup), which inherited practices from the older endurance rides, especially the Vermont 100 Trail Ride. Introduction: Different Formats For Endurance Rides When you read some of the histories on the Internet about endurance riding, It is odd to an outsider to read such things like, "endurance riding was born in 1955 with the first Western States Trail Ride“ and  "a new nationwide sport was born.” These "birth" references ignore the roots of the endurance riding sport that existed for decades and was shared in Part 1. Why? About 1970, a redefinition was invented to solve disputes of competing endurance riding factions. The main difference is whether an endurance ride should enforce a minimum finish time to protect the horse. It appears that much of what was called in the past, "endurance riding," wasn't really endurance riding, it was "competitive trail riding" simply because they had a different format and distance. To this outsider history buff, you shouldn't rename the past to fit your format preference of the present. Nevertheless, most of those who prefer the present-day "endurance riding" definition believe that their sport gave birth in 1955 with not much acknowledgment of the past. That "birth" will be covered in this part. The parallel with ultrarunning history is fascinating. Many runners think incorrectly that the entire ultrarunning sport was born with the creation of the Western States Endurance Run in 1977. Similarly, many riders think that the entire endurance riding sport was born with the creation of the Western States Trail Ride. In both cases the legend and folklore of these major events are taking too much credit at the expense of pushing aside their heritage and those who made their events possible to be established. The creation of the Western States Trail Ride was certainly a pivotable historic event for the sport. It would eventually lead to the creation of the American Endurance Ride Conference (AERC) governing organization in 1971 that helped launch the endurance riding sport into a new modern era. Even more impactful to the endurance world was the creation of the Western States Endurance Run in 1977. Both of those events will be covered in the next article/episode. The State of Endurance Rides in 1955 In the 1950s and 1960s there was no overarching governing body for endurance rides to set standards or to sanction the events. Much like trail ultrarunning today, riding competitions were created by independent associations and clubs. Event directors could set the distances and rules themselves. Public perception and criticism influenced how the events were handled. Rides were created patterned after other rides held in the country. But the endurance riding sport did exist before 1955 and was growing. Miss USA awards the winner of the 1955 Vermont 100 In 1955, the premier endurance ride, the Green Mountain 100 Mile Trail Ride, held its 20th annual ride and was alive and well. Miss USA presented the Ride awards in South Woodstock Vermont. Also,

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast episode and a full article (Listen to the podcast episode too with audio clips from some of the runners.) New book - Early history of 100-milers The sport of running 100 miles competitively has existed for multiple centuries. In the 1800s, the most prolific 100-mile runner was Frank Hart (1856-1908), a black runner from Boston, Massachusetts. He reached 100 miles in at least 85 of his races across his 25-year running career. Most of those races were six-day races where he usually ran far more than 300 miles. In the modern era, by the mid-1970s, running 100 miles in competition started to become more available to anyone. Before 1980, no one ran dozens of 100-milers during their running career, only a handful of 100s. Ultrarunning legend Ted Corbitt (1919-2007) ran fewer than ten 100-milers. By the end of 1999, a few prolific ultrarunners had piled up 100-mile race finishes. Richard and Sandra Brown of England were way out in front with 87 and 82, reaching 100 miles in both running and walking events. Ray Krolewicz of South Carolina was next with about 60 100-mile finishes to his name. Don Choi, the prolific multi-day runner from San Francisco, had more than 40 100-mile finishes but had retired from 100-mile running in 1997 at the age of 48. The world's greatest, Yiannis Kouros had an estimated 40 100-milers, most of them wins. As the decades passed, in 2024, there were 30 talented ultrarunners who had achieved 100 100 milers.  Who are they? Recent News: The 100x100 Club Determining how many 100-mile+ race finishes a person has is a hard task because there is no official list and no single database has a complete list of results. The criteria I and others in this "club" have used to count 100-mile races includes: An official race, overseen by a race director, where 100 miles (161 kms) or more is achieved within a 48-hour period. Results are found on ultrasignup.com, DUV database, or verified with a race director. 100 miles must be reached within the established cut-off time for the race. A race of more than 100 miles is counted as only one, even if hundreds of miles were reached in the race. If the race (example, a 200-miler), is DNFed, it does not count even if 100 miles was covered. Solo 100-mile runs, outside of an official race are not counted in this list even if verified. Most of those in this club additionally have accomplished several solo 100s in addition to their formal races. For 2020-only, virtual races are counted. Note: I've been asked, why not count 100-mile training/adventure runs?  Consistency.  When I researched this, those at the top of the list (Sandra, Jester, Mike, etc.) all were consistent and only counted races, not their 100-miler adventure runs. The 100-miler longevity list maintained, also only counts races. I believe Rob Apple has finished the most ultras in the world (800+). He doesn't count his additional hundreds of ultra-distance training runs.  A serious trans-continental, or AT runner runs a 100-mile run almost every other day. It doesn't make sense to count those for this list.  I hope that helps with the rationale. I will attempt to share those who have reached 100-miles 100 times during a race. It is possible that I have missed someone. Please let me know so I can update the list. These runners have many things in common. All are very mentally tough, stubborn about not quitting, fairly obsessive, train year-round, and never envisioned reaching this milestone. Most of them have ventured into multi-day events later in their career and can go well over 100 miles in a single event. All developed the ability to run at least one 100-miler each month and learned how to avoid significant injury. Here are the athletes in order of reaching the 100x100 milestone: Sandra Brown of England with at least 216, most were achieved in walking competitions Richard Brown of England at least 146,

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast episode and a full article The 100 x 100 list now includes 21 accomplished athletes who have finished 100 or more races of 100 milers or more. This article will introduce the Sandra and Richard Brown, both on the list, and highlights their amazing 100-mile careers and some of the events in Europe unfamiliar to American ultrarunners. Sandra was the very first person in the world who finished 100 100-milers and the first to reach 200. By the end of July 2021, Sandra Brown, age 72, of England had accomplished a world-best, 208 100-milers, walking and running on tracks, roads, and trails in various event formats. About 160 of her 208 100-milers were accomplished in less than 24 hours, also a world best. Most 100-milers in the World Yes, Sandra Brown reached 100 miles 200+ times in organized events, more than anyone in the world. Ed Ettinghausen (The Jester) has been working very hard to catch up and exceed that number. (He passed that number in 2021). The World’s Greatest Sandra Brown is the world’s greatest woman ultra-distance walker ever, but she was also a world-class ultrarunner and still is for her age-group. In 2018 she was 69 years old and completed eleven 100-milers that year, including some sub-24-hour 100-milers. Her 208 100-milers came in several different types of walking and running events on tracks, roads, and trails. These types of events will be described in this article. She is the holder of current world records and it is time that the ultrarunning community learn about Sandra and her amazing accomplishments. Also on the100x100 list is Sandra’s husband, world-class runner and walker Richard Brown, who delights in being overshadowed at times by Sandra’s accomplishments. They are inseparable and have been married for nearly 50 years. Richard has finished about 140 100+ mile events. Also read about all these 19 athletes. Walking and Running Does it matter that most of Richard and Sandra’s 100-milers were performed walking? Not at all. For today’s ultrarunning events that reach 100 miles, they are “go-as-you-please.” You can walk or run, it does not matter. What matters is reaching 100 miles. World ultrarunning historian, Andy Milroy agrees, “covering a distance on foot is valid, whether walking, running or a mixture of both.” Among her 208 100s, Sandra has completed about 130 100-milers in events that were judged with racewalking rules. But she also completed 100 miles in more than 30 running events and usually she finished at the top. Other 100s were walking events where you could walk any way you wished to reach 100 miles. Piling up 100-milers while living in England is very impressive because there are far fewer events compared to the US. Sandra wrote, “I’ve always envied athletes in the USA where there are so many ultra-distance and 100 miles events! In the UK there are now several, mainly off-road, 100s, and a couple of 24-hour events. On the Continent, events are mainly 24 hours, though our Dutch and Belgian friends share our love of 100s.” Ultra Walking Before getting to Richard and Sandra’s amazing careers, it would help to understand the background of walking competitions, especially in England. Ultradistance Walking (or Ultra Walking), is the practice of walking in competitions of distances more than the marathon length. They have existed for centuries and truly have roots in 19th century Pedestrianism. “Heel and toe” walking rules were established for these foot races that became a popular wagering venue. Walking competitions were conducted for many distances short, long, ultradistances, and eventually for six days or more. By 1880 walking rules were further established and amateur competitions started to be held. In general, rules required that the walkers’ back toe could not leave the ground until the heel of the front foot has touched. Rules would change over the years.

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast episode and a full article In Part One on Endurance Riding, I covered the very early history of the sport of endurance riding from 1814-1954 when forgotten individuals established the sport they called "endurance riding" and paved the future for the sport. In Part Two I covered the early history of the Western States Trail Ride (Tevis Cup) from 1955-1970 and worked through some folklore about the history of the Ride. In this concluding part we will wade through some controversy and get to the ultrarunning fun, the founding of the Western States Endurance Run or commonly called, the Western States 100. By 1970 with all the numerous endurance rides held across the country, the Western States Trail Ride, or “the Tevis” had emerged as being the toughest and the premier endurance ride in the country. It had survived intense criticism over the years from the public and animal rights groups. Under the leadership of Wendell Robie, the ride had made adjustments, weathered the storms of criticism, and increased in popularity. By 1970 among the dozens of endurance rides, there were still only a few that patterned their event after the Western States Trail Ride, Virginia City 100, and two 50-milers in California, Castle Rock 50 and Blue Mountain 50. In 1971 two more were established, Big Horn 100 in Wyoming, and Diamond 100 in California which awarded a Wendell Robie Cup. In all, across the country there were nearly 100 endurance rides of various flavors held in 1971. Some histories grossly under count and mislead readers into thinking there were just a handful of endurance rides in existence at that time. During 1971 there were at least 20 new rides established with distances between 25-100 miles and several of them were influenced by the Western States Trail Ride in one way or another. Some started to award belt buckles and some rode on tough trails. But most of these new “races” were doing their own thing. For example, the Wasatch Mountain 50 Mile Endurance Ride in Utah was particularly tough, doing loops near the present-day Wasatch Front 100 course with some big climbs. By 1971, endurance riding was ready to enter into a new era with the strong influence by those associated with the Western States Trail Ride. North American Trail Ride Conference Finishers of the 1945 Concord Mt Diablo 80 Back in 1941, at Concord, California, an endurance ride was established by the Concord Chamber of Commerce, and was patterned after the Green Mountain Ride in Vermont. It was a two-day (later three-day), 80-mile ride going from the city of Concord on trails, winding across ranches, through wooded canyons, and along the slopes of Mt. Diablo. They emphasized that “to finish was to win,” that the last finisher could be the winner. This endurance ride in California was established 14 years before the first edition of the Western States Trail Ride in 1955. Twenty years later, in 1961, members of the rider association in Concord established the North American Trail Ride Conference. That year in a newspaper article it was stated, “The purpose of the conference, or organization is to coordinate dates so there will be no conflicts, develop rules and regulations for member rides and riders, and generally help and promote new rides just getting established.” With the many critics from influential organizations like The Humane Society, the NATRC emphasized looking after the “soundness of horses.” The NATRC said that their events were not “endurance rides” (but they really were). They also started to refer to their flavor of endurance riding as “competitive trail riding.” This semantic approach was used to distance themselves from the intense criticism that the Western States Trail Ride was receiving even though the Tevis claimed that it wasn’t a race (but it really was). The careful use of words was obviously part of a strategy to fend off attention and criticism from animal rights groups and ...

By Davy Crockett What was the first American ultradistance race in the modern era? Perhaps the answer is the Padre Island Walkatahon 110-miler, a three-day stage race that was started in 1953. It may have even been the first modern trail ultra in the world. This unusual race was a point-to-point race that ran along the sandy beaches of the Gulf of Mexico in Texas. Those who put it on were very forward-thinking, introducing features that would be used in ultras decades later. Previously long endurance races were mostly limited to professionals. This race was for everyone, the old, the young teenagers, and even women during an era when female participation in endurance events was viewed as inappropriate. Please consider becoming a patron of ultrarunning history. Help to preserve this history by signing up to contribute a little each month through Patreon. Visit https://ultrarunninghistory.com/member About Padre Island The Gulf-Side Casino Hotel Padre Island, about 113 miles long, is the longest barrier island in the world. This long, skinny, sandy island is the second largest island by area in the lower-48 states. Only Long Island in New York tops it. In 1908 the first development was established on the island, the Gulf-Side Casino Hotel, near the southern tip of the island. But the hotel received serious damage from storms and hurricanes over the years. For many years it closed to make repairs. Finally in 1945 the top story of the hotel was taken off by a storm and the entire structure was finally demolished in the early 1950s.   Padre Island today The Padre Island Causeway Around 1930 a causeway was built to connect Corpus Cristi to the northern end of the island allowing access to the Gulf’s beaches. During World War II, the northern section of the island was used as a bombing range. By 1953, the island was again undeveloped and used almost exclusively by ranchers. It wasn’t until 1970 that development started again. Founding the Race In 1951, Cash Asher (1891-1981), a journalist and author, was the publicity man for the Padre Island Park Board and the causeway. He likely came up with the idea of holding the race and became the race director. The objective was, to walk the length of the island end-to-end. This would be a way to get more publicity for the island and thus attract tourists. Asher named the race “Padre Island Walkathon.” The term ultramarathon would not be used until 1964. The controversial “walkathons” held in indoor halls had ceased by 1953, and that term would start to be used for any long walking event. This event sometimes also called a "Bunion Derby," taking that name from a coast-to-coast event in the 1920s. Why walk and not run? In the 1950s the idea of someone being able to run ultra distances still was viewed as inconceivable. Word of the race was publicized, and registration opened in early 1953. Race Format The format for the event was as a three-day staged race from the south tip of the island to the northern end, a distance of about 110 miles. The contestants would walk on no roads, just beach and sandy tracks pounded down by vehicles. This could have been the first trail ultramarathon event in American History, at least in modern history. For the first year, the walkers would cover 25 miles the first day, 42 miles the second day, and 43 miles the final day. They would all camp at the start and then for each night after Day 1 and Day 2. A large support caravan of vehicles would go along with the walkers, providing food, medical treatment, news coverage, and transportation for those who dropped out. If a walker dropped out, they were expected to continue with the caravan to the finish. Entrants would to be provided tents. The rules were pretty simple. Running was prohibited. The published rules stated, “anyone caught running will be thrown out of the race.” Beer or hard liquor were also prohibited during the race. Anyone who partook,

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast episode and a full article In the 1980s running 100 miles started to become more popular for the non-professional runner to attempt. By 2017 some in the ultrarunning community viewed running 100 miles as fairly common place. In recent years a saying of “200 is the new 100” emerged as a few 200-mile trail races were established, meaning that 100 miles used to be viewed as very difficult but 200 miles was the new challenging standard. This may be true, but what about running 1,000 miles? Will 1,000 milers ever be the “new 200?” What? Who runs 1,000-mile races? In 1985 America’s first modern-day 1,000 mile race was held in Flushing Meadows Corona Park in Queens, New York with three finishers. The 1986 race was probably the most famous modern-day 1,000-mile race held with a show-down of several of the world greats. But most ultrarunners have never heard about 1,000-mile races. 1,000-mile attempts in one go have taken place for more than two centuries. A curious 1,000-mile frenzy took place for about ten years in England during the early 1800s by professional walkers/runners. They took on huge wagers making those who succeeded, very wealthy men. These 1,000-mile events attracted thousands of curious spectators who also wagered and spent much of their money at the sponsoring pubs during the multi-week events. This will be a three-part series on 1,000 milers. Two main formats for these 1,000-milers took place during early 1800s. In Part 1, the stories will be told about walking 1,000 miles, “go as you please” as fast as the pedestrians could, to reach the distance within a certain number of days to win the wagers. They were not really interested in achieving best times. They were simply interested in reaching 1,000 miles in time to win the wager and gain lots of money donated by spectators. Massive amounts of money changed hands in bets. In Part 2, stories even more famous will be told about reaching 1,000 miles in 1,000 hours, an effort commonly called, the “Barclay Match.” With this format the pedestrians were required to walk a mile during every successive hour, a strange battle to establish bizarre sleep patterns for nearly 42 days. Part 3 will include the modern-day 1,000-mile races. Very Early 1,000 Mile Attempts Running or walking the 1,000-mile distance in an event has taken place for more than 250 years. Before the modern era of ultrarunning (post-WWII), attempts to reach that specific distances were mostly conducted as solo attempts involving wagers. Wake Green Windmill The earliest known 1,000-miler was attempted in 1759 by George Guest, a wagoner from Warwickshire, England. At Birmingham, England, for a “considerable wager”, Guest attempted to walk 1,000 miles in 28 days. He knew that he needed to walk about 36 miles per day. His course was in the area of Mosely-Wake Green, about two miles from Birmingham. He only walked 31 miles the first day but from then on stayed on schedule. Half way through, on day 14 he was back on schedule at mile 490. It was reported, “He is perfectly well and it is thought he will perform the whole in the time.” By day 21 he had walked 720 miles. With two days to go, Guest still had 106 more miles to go. He was feeling fine and to show off a bit, “he walked the last six miles within an hour, though he had a full six hours in which to complete his task.” He finished on February 1, 1759. The next month he again attempted to walk 1,000 miles, this time in 24 days for 1,000 guineas in five-pound shoes. His attempt took place on horse grounds in South Lambeth, a southern district of London. It is unknown if he was successful, probably not. 1,000 Miles in 20 Days George Wilson George Wilson of Newcastle-on-Tyne, England, was born in 1766. He was one of the pioneers of pedestrianism and would become known as “the Blackheath Pedestrian.” In his 40s, he had a “draper and hosier” (cloth and clothing) business that required h...

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast episode and a full article Richard Manks Can a person walk or run 1,000 miles in 1,000 hours, doing a mile in each and every hour for nearly 42 days? That was the strange question that surfaced in 1809 in England. In Part 1 of the 1000-milers I covered the attempts to reach 1,000 miles as fast possible. This part will cover what became known as the Barclay Match, walking a mile every hour, which was a feat of enduring sleep deprivation and altering sleep patterns dramatically. In a way, these matches were similar endurance activities to the bizarre walkathons of the 1930s that required participants to be on their feet every hour. Critics of these 1,000-mile events called them "cruel exhibitions of self-torture" that had no point except to "win the empty applause of a thoughtless mob" and put a few pounds into the pockets of the walkers. They said, "there is nothing to learn from such exhibitions save they are positively injurious, physically and morally." But others thought the matches gave "convincing proof that man is scarcely acquainted with his own capacity and powers.” These "1,000 miles in 1,000 hours" events captivated the world, were cheered in person by tens of thousands of people, were wagered with the equivalent of millions of today's value in dollars and launched the sport of pedestrianism into the public eye. It was first thought that this 1,000-mile feat was an impossibility, and it was called a “Herculean” effort. Betting was heavy and wagers were nearly always against success. But during a 100-year period, there were more than 200 attempts of this curious challenge and more than half were successes. How did this all begin? Captain Robert Barclay Robert Barclay Allardice, or "Captain Barclay," of Ury, Scotland, was born to a Scottish family in 1779. His father had been a member of Parliament and owned extensive estates. When young Barclay was fifteen years old, he won a 100 guineas wager, walking heal-toe six miles in one hour which at that time was considered a great accomplishment. When he was twenty years old, he covered 150 miles in two days, and in 1801, in very hot weather, he walked 300 miles in five days. Also, that year he walked/ran 110 miles in 19:27 in a muddy park. He became a very experienced walker who took on many wagers. He also was an officer in the army and thus called “Captain.” In September 1808 Barley started to consider accepting a challenge to walk 1,000 miles in 1,000 consecutive hours for 1,000 guineas, a large fortune at that time. (Worth about $155,000 in 2019). For a farm laborer, a year’s wages were about 50 guineas. Barclay first conducted a secret test at his estate in Scotland. One of his tenant farmers was able to walk one mile, every hour for eight days. Barclay decided to accept the 1,000 miles in 1,000 hours challenge. Others had attempted this before, but no one went longer than 30 days. For example, in 1772 a tailor began a walk on a large wager to walk 1,000 mile in 1000 hours on “a spot of ground marked out for the purpose near Tyburn Turnpike” in London. It is believed that he was unsuccessful. A pedestrian named Jones sought to walk every hour for a month but quit in less than three weeks. Others were defeated by lack of sleep, swollen legs, and other various problems. A man from Gloucestershire rode a horse 1,000 miles in 1,000 hours, one mile in each hour, on Stinchcombe Hill in Dursley, England. “He won with ease.” As word spread about this challenge, other 1000-mile ideas were spawned, including by George Wilson, who wanted to attempt walking 1,000 miles in less than half the time, in 20 hours. (See Part 1). 1,000 Miles in 1,000 Consecutive Hours Months passed and Barclay’s challenge was put together to be performed on open land near Newmarket, England. A half mile course was laid out to be walked out and back in a straight line over smooth and even uncultivated land.

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast episode and a full article The famous prison and the start gate Read about the beginnings of the Barkley and the early years in this new book. Get it in your country's Amazon site. The Barkley Marathons, with its historic low finish rate (only 15 runners in 30 years), is perhaps the most difficult ultramarathon trail race in the world. It is held in and near Frozen Head State Park in Tennessee, with a distance of more than 100 miles. The Barkley is an event with a mysterious lore. It has no official website. It is a mystery how to enter, It has no course map or entrants list is published online. It isn't a spectator event. For the 2018 race, 1,300 runners applied and only 40 selected. Those seeking entry must submit an essay. The entrance fee includes bringing a license plate from your home state/country. Runners are given the course directions the day before the race and aren't told when the race exactly starts. They are just given a one-hour warning when the conch is blown. To prove that they run the course correctly, books are placed a various places on the course where the runners must tear out a page from each book matching their bib number. If they lose a page or miss a book, they are out. Directly opposite of most ultras, the course is specifically designed to minimize the number of finishers. The inspiration for creating the Barkley in 1986 was the 1977 prison escape by James Earl Ray from Brushy Mountain State Prison. Ray was the convicted assassin of Martin Luther King Jr. He spent more than two days trying to get away in the very rugged Cumberland Mountains where the Barkley later was established. Ray's escape has been a subject of folklore. This article will reveal the details of his escape, where he went, what he did, and why he was only found a few miles from the prison. This is how the madness of the Barkley Marathons started... This history along with the early history of the Barkley Marathons, and the origins of other classic ultramarathons are now contained in a new book: Classic Ultramarathon Beginnings by Davy Crockett, available in your country's Amazon site. Gary Cantrell (Lazarus Lake) In 1978, Gary Cantrell (later also became known as Lazarus Lake), was an accounting student at Middle Tennessee State University. He was a tough marathon runner with eight finishes to his name at that time. He even finished one marathon after shotgun pellets struck him in the legs during a race. (It turned out that there were some hunters in nearby woods shooting quail). Cantrell was interested in stepping up to run an ultramarathon, so in 1979, he and his fellow “Horse Mountain Runners” created their own ultra to run, Strolling Jim 40-mile Run in Wartrace, Tennessee. It was named after a famed horse and became one of the oldest yearly ultras in the country. This was Cantrell’s first experience at creating a tough race. He said, “Six or eight doctors will be in the race and that sort of surprised me. You’d think of all people they’d know better.” Cantrell’s masochistic race directing skills were further honed when in 1981 he put together “The Idiot’s Run” in Shelbyville, Tennessee consisting of 76 miles and 37 significant hills. He was surprised when several runners expressed interest. He said, “Is there no run so tough as to discourage these maniacs? If we had a 250 miler through Hell with no fluids allowed, I think we’d get 10-15 people.” A dozen runners showed up for The Idiot’s Run and only two finished. The next year, 1982, he extended “The Idiot’s Run” course length to 108 miles and eliminated flat sections, gaining experience adjusting courses each year to make them harder. Cantrell explained, “The objective isn’t so much to see who finishes first as to simply see who survives for the longest distance. I’m confident this is the single grimmest race held anywhere in the world.” An article about his race was printed in newspapers...

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast episode and a full article Learn about the beginnings of Barkley, and the early years in this new book The Barkley Marathons, the toughest trail race in the world, is held in and near Frozen Head State Park in Tennessee, with a distance of more than 100 miles. The first year it was held was in 1986, and it is now world famous. Only 40 runners are selected to run. Barkley is the brainchild of Gary Cantrell (Lazarus Lake) and Karl Henn (Raw Dog).  In 1985, they had been intrigued by the very few miles that James Earl Ray had covered back in 1977 during his 54.5-hour prison escape in the mountains.  Cantrell felt that he could do much better.  See Barkley Marathons – The Birth That year Cantrell and Henn went up into that wilderness to backpack, in two days, the “boundary trail,” about 20 miles, constructed by the Civilian Conservation Corps decades earlier. Four people died building the trail. When they showed the rangers their route around the park, they were told that they wouldn’t be able to make it. The rangers didn’t want them to go on the hike because they didn’t want to have to rescue them. But the rangers were convinced to give them a permit. The first 7.5 miles took the two ten hours to cover. They did finish their backpack trip and told the rangers that they had some friends who would probably like to run the trail. The idea for Barkley had been hatched and a course was designed and plans put into place for the first year of the Barkley in 1986 at Frozen Head State Park.  Cantrell later said, “The best description of the course I’ve heard? Someone told me that every ultra has its signature hill, the nasty one that’s totally unreasonable and makes or breaks the race—the Barkley is like all those hills just put end on end.” Frozen Head State Park CCC Dynamite shack In 1933, the Tennessee Governor set aside a large portion of the Brushy Mountain State Prison’s lands to establish the Morgan State Forest. That year the Civilian Conservation Corps came and constructed roads, facilities, and some trails that Barkley uses today including the Boundary Trail. The CCC worked for multiple years. Rattlesnakes and all the prison escapes taking place every year made it difficult to establish a camp in the forest until 1938. In 1952 a large portion of the forest was burned and prison inmates were used to fight the fire. In about 1970 the Frozen Head State Park was established. One of the unknown heroes of the Barkley is Don Todd (1918-2005) of Wartburg, Tennessee. He was active since the 1960s in an effort to protect the area that became Frozen Head State Park. Since the 60s he led wildflower-spotting hikes within the park to acquaint others with its diversity of plants and animals. Don Todd Todd pushed to have nine square miles around Frozen Head declared unsuitable for coal mining and helped stop plans for a huge strip mine on Frozen Head which would have been visible from 80% of the trails within the park. Thankfully that didn’t happen and Todd was proud that the park looks pretty much the way it did when “the first white men came.”  He said, ”it’s something I put value on trying to improve the quality of life in the mountains a little bit. In 1985 he was awarded the Gulf Conservation Award for his efforts. Coal strip mining was a constant worry for the area. In 1971 a coordinated effort gathered petitions and fought to not allow state land close to the park  to be sold off to potential strip miners. In 1973 a state bill was introduced to prevent strip-mining of 2,500 acres of coal land near Frozen Head. But strip mining was a constant threat to the park. In 1978 a public hearing was held in Wartburg about doing strip mining on Bird Mountain, right on the future Barkley course. The hearing was heated and dominated by miners. Three members (including two women) of the “Save Our Cumberland Mountains” organization were “verbally and physically abused” by min...

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast episode and a full article After the golden age of Pedestrianism of the late 1800's, a new breed of ultra-distance runners emerged in the early 1900s. Events were few. The world wars and the great depression all but snuffed out their efforts to continue to go the distance, to demonstrate what was possible. It became impossible to try to make a living with their legs. In America, only the most determined runner emerged out of the strife of the 1930s and 1940s to continue their craft into the post-war modern era of ultrarunning. One of these athletes was Alvin "Mote" Bergman. In 1896 the first marathon was competed in the inaugural Olympic Games at Athens, Greece. The idea was quickly adopted elsewhere and the Boston Marathon soon was established. Other marathons followed and competing at that distance grew in attention. But there were only a small number of runners competing at longer distances such as 50 miles and 100 miles.  The Trans-America races "Bunion Derbies" of 1928-29 did gather together talented runners, but soon America turned their attention to just surviving during the depression. Without very many ultra-distance professional events to compete in, some of these early ultrarunners used their marketing creativity to transition to "solo artists." Mote Bergman would eventually take this road in the Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania area and would become known as "the wizard of the colossal art of walking,” and the “world champion birthday walker,” He was one of the very few American ultrarunners who kept up ultrarunning through the Great Depression, through the World War II years, and went on to span into the modern era. He was likely the first American to walk or run a sub-24-hour 100-miler in the post-war modern era of ultrarunning. Early Running/Walking Career Alvin Floyd Bergman (Bergmann) was born in Virginia on May 14, 1887 weighing only four pounds. His father was a carpenter and his grandparents came from Germany. He was frail as a child and started walking for exercise when he was ten years old.  His family moved to Leetsdale, Pennsylvania, a small town on the Ohio River outside of Pittsburgh. In 1900, at the age of 13, he began long distance walks to build himself up physically. He had read a story about the walking champion, Edward Payson Weston, who advised people seeking good health to “walk, walk, walk.” That year he started a very long string of his birthday walks, matching miles to his age. Those birthday walks were eventually featured in Ripley’s “Believe it or Not” column and Mote would keep them going until he was 80 years old. He wasn’t a powerful looking man, only 145 pounds and 5 ½ feet tall. His nickname “Mote” was derived from his small stature. Mote became a barber, also turned into a professional runner in 1909, and participated in some running races. That year he ran a "marathon" of about 36 miles, near Pittsburgh, in a bad snowstorm and finished in 5:25. Late that year he also participated in a 72-hour "go as you please" race. Mote in 1909 Walking from his hometown in Pennsylvania to many major cities in the East became a lifetime activity in the summer during his vacation time. In 1914 at the age of 27, Mote set off on a 300 mile walk from his home in Leetsdale to Huntington, West Virginia, a distance of about 300 miles. He expected it to take eight days.  For the first day, his birthday, he walked 27 miles to celebrate. His various walks received newspaper attention and he said he believed he could break the "world's record of 121 miles without a stop." In 1915 at the age of 28, he achieved his most proud accomplishment. He walked from Pittsburgh to Chicago, a distance of about 503 miles in an incredible six days, 23:45, believed to be a “world record” at that time. During that trip he walked with pedestrian legends, Dan O’Leary of Chicago and Edward Payson Weston of New York. Old Soldier Barnes

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast episode and a full article On May 10, 2019, America will celebrate the 150th anniversary of the completion of the transcontinental railroad in 1869, that was recognized with a “Golden Spike” ceremony at Promontory Point, Utah. For more than 150 years adventurers desired to travel across the American continent by various means: horse, wagon, train, automobile, and eventually on foot in one go. With this celebration coming up, it seemed appropriate to recognize some historic accomplishments walking or running across the American continent. The most notable early walk across America was accomplished by the famous Pedestrian Edward Payson Weston in 1909. Weston accomplished the transcontinental walk at the age of 71. That was just six years after the first two men drove an automobile across America from San Francisco to New York in 63 days. By the time Weston began his famed walk, the fastest known time driving across the continent had been lowered to 15 days, 2 hours, 10 minutes. A train had accomplished it in 71 hours 27 minutes. Weston would capture the attention of the country and the world when he accomplished it on foot in 1909. That story will be covered in an upcoming article. However, Weston first got the idea in 1869 when a best-seller book was being read about a young man, who years before had walked across South America. Weston very likely got the idea to walk across North America from the adventure that took place in 1855. Few have heard this story. It needs to have a place in ultrarunning history because it inspired the Pedestrian world and planted in the minds of many to do cross continent walks and runs in the future. Not only would runners run across America (3,100+ miles), but they would go across Australia (2,890), New Zealand (1,350 miles), Europe (1,729 miles), Canada (4,179 miles), Asia (5534 miles), the Soviet Union (7,321 miles), the length of Great Britain (840 miles), Ireland (375 miles), and South America (8,500 miles). But it seemed to all start with a young seventeen-year-old American adventurer in 1855. Here is his story. Nathaniel Holmes Bishop (1837-1902) Nathaniel Holmes Bishop was born to a wealthy family on March 23, 1837 in the city of Medford Massachusetts, near Boston. As a youth he had a restless adventuresome spirit and at seventeen years old vowed that he would walk across South America from Argentina to Chile, climbing over the Andes. With only $45 in his pocket, he hired on as crew on a roach-infested merchant ship that was heading for Buenos Aires, Argentina. He endured weeks of seasickness but “became tolerably familiar with the duties of life at sea” growing strong and hearty. For three weeks the rainy season arrived, and he was “wet to the skin” as clothes, bedding, everything was “saturated from the effects of a leaky deck.” He arrived in South America during the “pampero” hurricane season and witnessed tragedy as other vessels were capsized and sailors drown. Buenos Aires Buenos Aires At Buenos Aires Bishop was still obliged to his mariner duties and remained on the ship for an entire month waiting for orders that he could be set free. Finally on February 20, 1855, he was discharged and was able to go ashore and went to the American consulate. The Consul thought he was crazy to undertake a walk of about 1,000 miles across the continent alone especially because he was unable to speak Spanish. Bishop wrote, “However he furnished me with the necessary papers of protection, together with letters of introduction to various persons in the interior.” Bishop would first have to face the vast “Pampas” which are vast plains including places without trees. He learned that the realistic way to cross the Pampas on foot, was to hitch up with a caravan of merchants, otherwise it would be impossible to obtain food, water and follow the right trail. This is because after March the Pampas sees very little rain and is fi...

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast episode and a full article Dakota Bob On May 10, 2019, America will celebrate the 150th anniversary of the completion of the transcontinental railroad. This is the second article in a series to recognize some historic accomplishments walking or running across the American continent. In the previous article, the history was given of the 1855 walk across South America by Nathaniel Holmes Bishop that inspired others to try transcontinental walks. Starting around 1890, dozens of “pedestrians” attempted transcontinental walks and many claimed to have succeeded. In 1896 a Buffalo article commented, "No less that a score have passed through Buffalo within a year." But did these walkers really accomplish these journeys all the way on foot? Verification was impossible in those days, Walkers wanted to succeed at all costs and were motivated by large wagers and the potential for great fame. Even in more modern times there have been fraudulent attempts and claims. Some of these very early walks that received attention may have been legitimate, but with careful analysis of the evidence left behind, most of these early transcontinental walks were likely hoaxes. The Buffalo Enquirer further stated in 1896, "Dead broke pedestrians have lived off gullible hotel keepers and charitably-inclined residents of the various states through which they pass. The American people like to humbugged." It wasn’t until about 1909 that more of the press started to accept the fact that many of these walkers cheated. One reporter wrote, “Several alleged walks across the continent have been heralded from time to time, but their accuracy has been so vague as to be valueless for records of bona fide achievements.” Faking Transcontinental Walks The biggest challenge for walks of the late 1880s and early 1900s was the very remote western states section. From Kansas to over the Sierra in California, towns were very spread out and the dirt roads were terrible, still rutted wagon roads. Winter travel on these rural roads was extremely dangerous and frequently impassible. It was impossible for walkers to travel that section solo without aid. Aid by automobile wasn’t yet practical. Rainy weather made roads impassable by the early motor vehicles. The first transcontinental dirt road highway, the Lincoln Highway, wasn’t completed until 1913 and even then, the automobiles were very unreliable for such journeys and frequently became stuck in sand or mud. Using a pack horse or having a rider along on a horse providing aid was possible, but not practical because the horses would need to be changed out. Those who claimed to do it solo without a pack horse, or without a rider, were very likely frauds. Walking on the railroad between California and Kansas, like a hobo, was a practical solution in those early days but it involved a slow surface that was mostly away from roads. On the railway line, the towns and way stations were very spread out. For walkers to really succeed passing through the west, they would need to have a lot of help from locals providing food, liquid, and shelter. Night walking would be critical during summer months. Newspapers frequently covered these attempts, but because communication and verification were poor, it was very simple to fool the public and the press, performing fraudulent transcontinental walks. In 2019, with so many old digital newspapers available, it is fairly simple to track an early walker’s travels reported in the papers and stitch the stories together to determine fact or fiction. The story of Dakota Bob is a great example to examine and illustrates the reality of most transcontinental walks before 1910. Dakota Bob was a colorful figure who became very famous in the East. During his walking career, he walked across the North America continent eight times or more! Or did he? Here is the story of Dakota Bob. Dakota Bob Dakota Bob

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast episode and a full article On May 10, 2019, America will celebrated the 150th anniversary of the completion of the transcontinental railroad. This is the third article in a series to recognize some historic accomplishments walking or running across the American continent. In the previous articles, the history was given of the 1855 walk across South America by Nathaniel Holmes Bishop, and the story of Dakota Bob was shared as an a example of the many fraudulent characters who would claim to walk across America. Women got into the game too! The most famous of the transcontinental woman walkers of the late 1800s, and perhaps the first, was a Spanish-American world-famous actress, Zoe Gayton. The may have also been the first person to walk the history transcontinental railroad end-to-end. Here is her amazing story of her walk in 1890-91. Zorika Gaytoni Lopez Ares “Zoe Gayton,” was born in about 1854, in Madrid, Spain. When she was about four years old, her father became a political exiled immigrant and they came to New York City. Zoe Gayton started performing in the theater at the early age of 14 in Tennessee and then joined a company in New York City. Zoe Gayton married at about 18 years old, to famous rich man, John H. Church, who was the owner of the Golden Gate Theater in Oakland, California. He had many wives, some at the same time. Zoe toured with him to South America. They lived in Utah for a time, building the first hotel in Little Cottonwood Canyon, Utah (location now of Alta and Snowbird ski resorts). They divorced in 1873 and Zoe then went through a series of other marriages as she continued to perform. She later joined companies in the west, performed in many places, and took a company to perform in Hawaii. Mazeppa Zoe Gayton became a world-known “equestrian actress impersonator” who traveled performing a four-act play based on a legendary poem, “Mazeppa” by Lord Byron. In the plot, Zoe played the male character Mazeppa, a horseman and page for a Polish Count. When Mazeppa is caught in an affair with the Countess, he is tied naked to a steed and set loose. The terrifying scene is the play is when Zoe is bound to a horse in scant clothing and rides on planks to the theater’s ceiling. It was much like a circus act. One newspaper described it this way, Zoe “is strapped to the side of her ‘barbed steed' and ascends the precipitous ‘runs’ to the ‘flies’ in the roof of the theater. It is a very exciting scene, and never fails to elicit tumultuous applause from the audience.” Another paper wrote, “Besides possessing a clear and pleasing voice, she has a splendid physique and graceful movement.” In 1882 Zoe Gayton performed “Mazeppa” in England at Queen Victoria’s New Royal Theatre. As she was touring, Zoe was arrested for stealing things at a boarding house where she was staying with her manager William J. Marshall. She took ten table clothes, a silk-velvet cape, a shawl, an umbrella, a lace scarf, and other items. They were found in her possession, she was convicted and sentenced to four months in prison. In 1883 she was back touring in the United States in Los Angeles, San Francisco, Oakland, New Orleans, and Alabama. In 1884 in deep financial trouble, after performing in Alabama, she raffled off her famous performing white Arabian steed, “Gypsy” to raise money to pay off debts when her theater company “went to pieces.” In 1885 she was performing with a new steed, “Fearless.” Zoe had performed all over the world including England, Scotland, France, Spain, Germany, Australia, India, Peru and all over America. But her years of success playing Mazeppa finally came crashing down. In 1885 her company was bankrupted performing in Kansas and her personal luggage was sold off to pay debts. In 1886 Zoe was traveling and performing again but in a new roles as Leah in Jewish play, "Leah, the Forsaken," and in another play, a military drama, “The French Spy.

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast episode and a full article In recent years, some of the ultrarunners who have run across America performed it by pushing baby joggers to carry their stuff in a self-supported mode. Once when Phil Rosenstein was pushing his jogger during his transcontinental run, an alarmed passing motorist called the police, and reported that a crazy person was pushing his baby along a busy highway in a baby carriage. In the general public’s mind, it is just too crazy to imagine someone running across the country pulling or pushing a contraption. What about pushing a one-wheeled, wooden wheelbarrow across the country? That is exactly what Lyman Potter of Albany, New York did in 1878. He was one of the earliest known ultrawalkers to legitimately walk across America. He became known as “The Wheelbarrow Man.” The country was fascinated by him, but behind his back, he was called by many an idiot, a lunatic, and a fool. Why would anyone want to push a wheelbarrow across America, especially across the West when there were just rough wagon roads and a few railroads? This is the story of “The Wheelbarrow Man” who would eventually be called "the hero of the greatest feat of pedestrianism." R. Lyman Potter Richard “Lyman” Potter was born about 1840 in Marietta, Ohio.  His father was an inventor, establishing patents. In 1862 the Potter family moved to Albany, New York. Lyman Potter then served as a private in the civil war. He returned to Albany where he worked with his father in patents and later as a plumber, an upholsterer, a cabinet maker, and a mattress maker. In 1872 when President Ulysses Grant was reelected, Potter was so upset that he vowed he wouldn't cut his hair or shave his face until a Democratic president was in the white house. His neighbors always thought he was very odd. 1875 New York Census in Albany In 1875 at the age of 35, he was a widower. His wife likely died in childbirth the year before. He was left to raise two daughters, Bertha age four, and Harriet, an infant. They were cared by a live-in nanny/housekeeper, Mary Robinson. His furniture business soon experienced hard times so he did odd jobs in the city to support his family. He was a smaller man, about 5 foot 8 inches, 137 pounds, and wore a long straggling black beard and long hair. In early 1878, he was 37 years old, although looked older. The Wheelbarrow Wager  In 1878 Potter and some friend were discussing the exploits of the famous Pedestrian, Daniel O’Leary. They started to banter about “this and that,” including whether any of them could walk for 100 consecutive hours. Potter said that was too easy, and before he knew it, a $1,000 wager resulted challenging Potter to push a wheelbarrow all the way from Albany, New York, to San Francisco, California. There were many individuals who put up money for the $1,000 purse which was deposited in a bank for Potter to collect if he was successful. Potter explained, “It all came from too much talk. We was talkin’ about work and earnin’ money, and hard times, and I said I’d wheel a wheelbarrow to San Francisco for a dollar a day rather’n be without work. The Albany fellows took me up and made up $1,000. I had nothin’ to do and I wouldn’t back down.” The terms for the wager required that he make it to San Francisco in 215 traveling days and in no more than 250 total days and must walk up to 4,085 miles during that time. He was not to travel on Sundays. Why was he doing truly doing it? He figured that he could make money, take many photographs, and write a book about his experiences along the way. A newspaper stated, “He is like the rest of mankind, ‘on the make,’ and is not doing all this wheelbarrowing for glory." Potter’s unique wheelbarrow was made specially for the trip. It was constructed as a box and weighed less than 45 pounds, although it looked heavier. When loaded with his things it weighed up to 75 pounds.

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast episode and a full article In previous articles, stories were shared about various walks across America in the 1800s. In 1909 Edward Payson Weston, the most famous American Pedestrian of the 1800’s made his transcontinental walking attempt in the twilight of his walking career, at the age of 70. His amazing walk captured the attention of the entire country and was the most famous transcontinental walk across America in history. Edward Payson Weston (1839-1929) was born in Providence, Rhode Island on March 15, 1839. He was not particularly strong as a boy and took up walking to improve his health with exercise. When he was 22, on a bet, he walked from Boston to Washington to witness the inauguration of President Abraham Lincoln, covering 453 miles in about 208 hours. In 1867, he walked from Portland, Maine to Chicago, about 1,200 miles, in about 26 days. That walk brought him worldwide fame. Over the next few decades, he was a professional walker and took part in many indoor multiday races. He gained more fame when he went and competed in England in 1876. Later in life, Weston gained intense attention in America in 1907 when at the age of 68, he again walked from Maine to Chicago and beat his 1867 time by more than a day. Since 1869 Weston expressed a desire to walk across America. Many had claimed that they accomplished it. Finally, in 1909 he decided he would make his attempt starting on his 70th birthday. Here is the story of his famous 1909 transcontinental walk. Plans In January 1909, Weston publicly announced his plans to walk across the continent from New York to San Francisco. He intended to accomplish it in 100 walking days, taking off Sundays each week. Including some planned side trips, he intended or the distance to be 4,000 miles, meaning that he would need to average walking 40 miles per day. In 1909 there weren’t any paved roads across the country, just some pavement in the cities. His route would be on dirt road “turnpikes” and on railroads. Along the way he wanted to deliver lectures, and give walking demonstrations, probably for money. Because of all the past fraudulent transcontinental walks by others, he wanted witnesses to keep him under surveillance to verify his accomplishment. It was recognized by the press, “Several alleged walks across the continent have been heralded from time to time, but their accuracy has been so vague as to be valueless for records of bona fide achievements.” At first Weston planned to walk from New York to Seattle and then head south to San Francisco. For his past long point-to-point walks, he had used horse carriages as crew, but the horses would wear out. This time he made plans for an automobile to go along with him. He wanted his route to include bridges, with no ferries, so he could walk every foot of the way. He purposely wanted to boycott going through Cleveland because in 1907 he was treated poorly by city crowds and didn’t receive what he thought was proper protection for that walk. Instead of bringing camping gear with him in the automobiles, he felt confident that lodging would be found in towns each night across the country. Among his planned provisions to always have on hand would be eggs, tea, meat, and plenty of ginger ale. He also wanted to have ice with him at all times, and included plans for blankets, extra shoes, and changes of clothing. As the day approached Weston changed route plans. Instead of heading to Seattle, he planned to head to Los Angeles and then north to San Francisco. He planned send daily updates of his walk to the New York Times by telegraph. Those updates are the primary source for this article The Start The crowd at the start Weston started his transcontinental walk on his 70th birthday, on March 15, 1909, at the General Post Office in lower Manhattan, in New York City. He was late to arrive at his planned start time at 4:15 p.m. which worried many,

By Davy Crockett  Get the new book that tells the story of Spartathlon and Kouros' famed 1983 run there Yiannis Kouros from Greece is considered by most, as the greatest ultrarunner of all time. That is a bold statement, but there are few that dispute this statement. The late “Stubborn Scotsman,” Don Ritchie, is certainly in the conversation, Some can try arguing for certain mountain trail ultrarunners, but what Kouros accomplished, dominating for more than a 20-year period, and setting world records that have lasted for decades is nothing but mind-boggling. Every ultrarunner needs to know about Yiannis Kouros and his accomplishments. One of his competitors, Trishal Cherns of Canada, said, “There’s the elite, the world class, then there’s Yiannis.” Yiannis Kouros was born on February 13, 1956 in Tripoli, Greece, a city of about 20,000 people at that time. His father was a carpenter and the family lived in poverty. They did not always have enough food, requiring Yiannis to perform his first manual laboring at the age of five. He could not afford to go to the movies so he went to a stadium to run for fun. Sports was also a refuge from his family trouble. Kouros explained, “I had a misfortune in my family. When I was born, my father thought I was not his own, he was of course wrong. For that reason, he used to lash out on me. My mother was uneducated and instead of nurturing me she fought me even more. So I grew up in a hostile environment.” He spent much of his childhood with his grandparents who were strong disciplinarians. Kouros awarded 1st Place in Long Jump In elementary school, he was awarded first place in the long jump. In high school he couldn’t stay home after school because of family troubles, so he had to go somewhere and went to track. He began formal athletic training and started running races at the age of sixteen. At first his coach dismissed Kouros as being “a mediocre athlete who just didn’t have the build to go fast.” But he progressed to be one of the top high school runners in Greece. He was a junior champion at the 3, 000 and 5,000 meter distances. After high school he left home and lived on his own in Athens for a time. Kouros didn’t only have interests in running. At the age of 12 he began writing his own poetry and songs. In his high school years, he took music and singing lessons. Eventually he published four albums and took part in music competitions. But his world greatness emerged in his running skills. In 1977 at that age of 21, Kouros ran his first marathon in 2:43:15. His times continued to improve to 2:25 in 1981. Soon he discovered that he excelled far more at ultra-distances. In 1981 at the age of 25, Kouros started building a house for himself in Tripolis which would take years to complete. He worked during the days as a guard at the athletic stadium and in the evenings worked on his house alone and trained about twice per day. He averaged only 2.5 hours sleep per night. By the end of the year, he asked the Sports Council to send judges to witness his attempt to run 100k, running on a 20k road course, seeking to set a national record. He finished in 7:35 but no judges came. Spartathlon By 1983, at the age of 27, Kouros had finished 25 marathons, winning one (1981 Athens), He read about a new race from Athens to Sparta, called the Spartathlon. The race traced the historic footsteps of Pheidippides, an Athenian messenger in 490 BC. This race of about 156 miles (251 km) started at the Acropolis in Athens and ran through ancient towns including Corinth to Sparta. Earlier in October 1982 a team of British athletes from the Royal Air Force covered the course, with the first man finishing in 34.5 hours, proving it could be done. Kouros signed up, hoping to be the first Greek finisher. It was his first ultramarathon! He jumped right from the marathon distance to about 156 miles (251 km)! World record ultrarunner Eleanor Adams of England also signed up,

By Davy Crockett  Dick Mendenhall runs in the 1977 Western States 100 The establishment of the Western States Endurance Run (Western States 100) in 1977 was one of the most important pivotal events in the history of ultrarunning. During the next decade, the existing ultrarunning sport experienced a major shift from roads and tracks to trails and mountains. Other 100-mile races were spawned from the Western States 100, patterning their mountain race formats and practices after those established by Western States. A new generation of ultrarunners came into the sport and the Western States Endurance Run became the most famous mountain trail 100-miler. Western States validly proclaims that it owns 100-mile racing’s richest and most compelling history. “Western States has been home to some of the sport’s most stirring and legendary competitions and has spurred the capacity of spirit of all runners, of all abilities and from all walks of life, from all over the globe. Western States remains one of the undisputed crown jewels of human endurance.” With such a rich and long history that has been told and retold over the years, it is not surprising that folklore has crept in, and historic errors introduced by mistake or on purpose, making the legend of Western States and its origin story even more compelling. With the establishment of the Internet and social media, much like the “telephone game” myths have been told and retold. My new book: Grand Canyon Rim to Rim History The Western States Endurance Run grew out of the Western States Endurance Ride in the Sierras, in California. That equestrian event also has quite a bit of folklore attached to it. But this fact is clear, there would not have been a Run if the Ride had not existed. The riders who were organizers of the run had the experience and wisdom to establish the Western State Endurance Run. I thought it would be interesting and helpful to look at many of these myths and some clarifying truths about the origin story of both the Western States Trail Ride and Western States Endurance Run.  Major events like these, at times approach "mythical" status and place too much credit on certain individuals, pushing aside heritage and others who paved the way for these historical events to take place. The intent of this episode it to have some fun looking at the facts and get the reader to think about history. Truth: Before Gordy Ainsleigh made his historic run in 1974, more than 1,000 people had already run 100 miles in under 24 hours on roads, tracks, and trails. Read Davy Crockett's new book, Running 100 Miles: Part One - A History (1729-1960). This definitive history of the 100-miler races presents the rich history of many, both men and women who achieved 100 miles on foot. Part one of this history includes tales of the trail-blazing British, the amazing Tarahumara of Mexico, and the brash Americans. "All the world is on the go, at the rate of one hundred miles in 24 hours. It looks as if people's legs are running or walking away with their brains." - November 29, 1867, The Fremont Weekly Journal, Fremont, Ohio. Myth #1: The Western States Trail runs all the way to Salt Lake City, Utah Western States 100 runs on the historic Western States Trail. The Western States website and other websites erroneously state that the Western States Trail extends all the way from Salt Lake City, Utah. It does not and never did. The trail that crosses the desert of Nevada is the California Trail. In Western Nevada there were branches off the California trail to various gold field destinations or settlements. The main routes initially (1846–48) were the Truckee Trail to the Sacramento Valley and after about 1849 the Carson Trail route to the American River and to the Pacerville gold diggings. There was no route called the Western States Trail in the 1800s. But a route did exist, used primarily by gold miners, that went from Lake Tahoe to Auburn, California.

By Davy Crockett Both a podcast and a full article The start of the Man vs Horse race held in 1929 at the Philadelphia Arena For more than two centuries, people have debated if humans on foot could beat horses. Those on the side of humans argued that over a long enough distance, human beings could outrun horses. It has been contended that humans are capable of covering vast distances after the horse becomes winded and unable to continue. To try to prove this point, ultradistance races billed as “Man vs. Horse” were competed as early as 1879. But it was a 157-mile "man vs. horse" race held in Utah, in 1957-58. that captured the attention of America and beyond.   Check out Davy Crockett's new book, Strange Running Tales: When Ultrarunning was a Reality Show, https://ultrarunninghistory.com/strangetales/ 19th Century  In 1818 at Feltham, Hertfordshire, England, a Mr. J Barnett, a long-distance runner "pedestrian" of Feltham, took on a bet for 200 guineas that he could beat a fast horse in a 48-hour race. The horse carried 168 pounds. The horse went out fast and reached 90 miles in 13 hours, stopping to feed only twice. After 24 hours, the score was horse: 118 miles, Barnett: 82 miles.  After 48 hours the horse won, 179 miles to 158 miles. It was believed that the horse could have only gone a few more miles if the race was for another day. Shorter races involving a steeple chase were competed too. In 1840 at Hyde Park in Sheffield, England, a match was conducted between a Mr. Cootes and an old hunting horse, "George IV." Along the way the two were required to leap over hurdles four feet high. "Cootes took the lead at starting, but the horse refused the first leap and could not get along. The biped continued to increase his lead, the horse repeatedly refusing the hurdles. In the eleventh round, and at the 55th leap, horse gave in, after which Cootes had the race to himself, and won as he liked." In 1855, a unique race was conducted in Paris, France. A Spaniard, Genaro, was pitted against thirteen English racehorses. The rules for this race required the horses to constantly run or trot. If a horse started to walk, they were out. Genaro could run or walk. The race was limited to seven hours and the person or horse to go the furthest distance was the winner. Laps were made around a large circus area, about a mile and a half. All but two horses gave up before Genaro was tired and quit. He had covered about 46 miles and the two horses, about 60 miles. It was clear to the public of that era that horses could easily beat runners at short distances. For entertainment there were many events where they established handicaps to make it more competitive. In 1857 a race was held in Rochester, New York pitting Charles Curtis against a famous horse, Frank Hayes. The horse needed to run three miles against Churtis' one mile.  The horse completed miles in 2:53 and 2:48, but Curtis won with a mile time of 8:42, winning by two seconds, "admid the tremendous cheers of the large concourse of people present on the track to witness the feat." By 1869, contests that pitted men on early bicycles against horses were being held. On May 11, 1869 at Riverside Park in Boston, Massachusetts, Walter Brown, a talented oarsman, riding a velocipede raced against a horse John Stewart. A month earlier Brown had amazed the country by riding his primitive bike 50 miles in four hours. In this race, Brown had to cover three miles to the horse's five miles. Brown won in 26:20. The horse completed nine miles in 26:35. In 1878, the endurance aspects of humans vs. horses again surfaced in newspapers. In Holmes Ohio, a man wagered he could walk further in a week than a horse ridden by a farmer. The results are unknown, but a debate resulted. "It is affirmed that a man's powers of endurance are superior to those of a horse. The question is one of endurance, not rapidity of gait. Properly tested,

By Davy Crockett  In recent years, the story of the amazing Tarahumara (Rarámuri) runners from Mexico exploded into international attention with the publication of Christopher McDougall’s best-selling 2009 book, Born to Run. Runners everywhere in 2009 naively tossed their shoes aside for a while and wanted to run like these ancient native Americans from hidden high Sierra canyons in Chihuahua, Mexico. Many other runners left the marathon distance behind, sought to run ultramarathons, and dreamed about running the Leadville 100, which exploded with new entrants. Readers of Born to Run think that the Tarahumara Indians made their debut running in America in 1992. Born to Run features their 1994 race at Leadville, Colorado. It has been falsely claimed that this was the first time that this indigenous people showed up to run outside their native environs. This is not true. Yes, the Tarahumara competed in America, in 1992, but it was not the first time that they displayed their running abilities in the United States. The Tarahumara competed in America more than six decades earlier when they made an even deeper impact on ultrarunning history. The story of the Tarahumara was only half told by Christopher McDougall. Their early running stories have been forgotten and need to be retold. This is the story of the Tarahumara before Born to Run. Please consider supporting ultrarunning history by signing up to contribute a little each month through Patreon. Visit https://www.patreon.com/ultrarunninghistory The Tarahumara are introduced to America Tarahumara in 1892 Frederick Schwatka In 1889, America was first introduced to the Tarahumara by an American exploring expedition that traveled through Mexico and published a long fascinating multi-part article in many newspapers. The author, explorer, Frederkick Schwatka (1849-1892) wrote, "The Tarahumari tribe of Indians are not at all well-known, for I doubt if one reader in a thousand of this article have ever heard of them. The savage Tarahumari lives generally off all lines of communication, shunning even the mountain mule trails if they can. His abode is a cave in the mountain-side or under the curving of some huge boulder on the ground." Schwartka gave a brief mention of the Tarahumara running abilities, "In the depth of winter, with snow on the ground, the Tarahumari hunter, with nothing on but his rawhide sandals and a breech-clout, will start in pursuit of a deer and run it down after a chase of hours in length, the thin crust of snow impeding the animal so that it finally succumbs to its persistent enemy.' Carl Sofus Lumholtz Norwegian explorer Carl Sofus Lumholtz (1851-1922) lived among the Tarahumara for more than a year. In 1894 he published a book, In the Land of Cave and Cliff Dwellers and lectured to American Geographical Society about the people. "Mr. Lumholtz found the Turahumari unyieldingly opposed to the use of his camera on them until the fortunate day arrived when his photographing was followed by much-needed rain. Ever after the use of the "rain maker," as the camera then came to be known, was sought as a favor." He mentioned "their fondness for extensive foot contests, of which careful account is kept by a simple system of stone counters." But it wasn't until 1905 that America started to have a true fascination with the Tarahumara Indians. Articles appeared across the country telling tales of “the most interesting tribe in the world.” They were described at that time as being a “savage” people of about 30,000 who seemed to be untouched by modern civilization and lived in the northern portion of the Mexican Sierra Madres. The Tarahumara were thought to be the only tribe on the American continent who still made homes in hillside caves similar to the cliff-dwelling ancient Anasazi found in the southwest United States. There were no highways to their towns. They had their own native language and only a few of them spoke ...

By Davy Crockett  1893 Native American Relay in Taos, New Mexico For centuries, many Native Americans were known to be outstanding long-distance runners who could run ultra-distances. Their talents were used in important roles to carry messages and news to distant communities. One of the most famous ultra-messaging events took place in 1680 when a very coordinated system of message runners were dispatched from Taos Pueblo, in present-day New Mexico to Hopi Villages in present-day Arizona, nearly 400 miles away, to coordinate a successful, simultaneous, revolt involving 70 villages against their Spanish oppressors. In the 1860s a Mesquakie runner in his mid-50s ran 400 miles from Green Bay, Wisconsin to the Missouri River to warn another tribe about an impending attack. Such runners would dedicate their lives to this role of being an ultrarunning messenger. My new book! Grand Canyon Rim to Rim History As Native American Talents became more widely known by Anglo-Americas, competitive wagers arose to prove their capabilities. In 1876 “Big Hawk Chief” ran 120 miles within 20 hours accompanied by an observer on a horse. In the early 1900s gifted ultra-distance runners were known to be among the Hopi, Yaqui, Tarahumara in Mexico, and the Seri of Tiburon Island in the gulf of California. The Hopi had been known to cover 130 miles within 24 hours. The Native American runners occupied a central role in ultrarunning during the early twentieth century. Sadly, this fact has largely been forgotten or overlooked. In 1927, a 480-mile race took place on the California/Oregon Redwood Highway that received intense daily attention in newspapers across America. This article will provide the detailed story for the first time of that historic, forgotten race. Get Davy Crockett's new book, Grand Canyon Rim to Rim History. This book, with more than 400 photos, tells a 130-year story of many of the early crossers in their own words. It also covers the creation of the trails, bridges, Phantom Ranch, and the water pipeline, the things that are seen during a rim-to-rim journey. Plans for the 1927 Redwood Indian Marathon By 1921, the running talents of the Native Americans were being noticed. The Los Angeles Herald, suggested, “If the Olympic commissioners want to find an Olympic Marathon runner who can beat the world, it might be a good scheme to look the Indian reservations over.” By 1926 In Arizona, “Indian Marathons” started to become features at local fairs and festivals. One such race was organized in Phoenix, running 25 miles from downtown to the fair grounds. “Only Indians who, in former days, ran over hot desert sands for various tribal missions will be called upon to appear in the race. The Hopi and Navajo Indian runners will serve as one of the best advertising features of the affair.” Soon this idea spread, to link exhibitions of Native American extreme running with national events. In 1927, with all the recent national attention to Native American runners, including the Tarahumara who were coming to run in Texas, the Chamber of Commerce in San Francisco conceived of a marketing idea to focus on the newly constructed highway stretch called the “Redwood Highway.” This new stretch of mostly dirt road went from San Francisco, California on Highway 101 to Crescent City California, and then east on Highway 199 to Grants Pass, Oregon, weaving through dense forests of redwood trees. In order to get more attention to the highway, and fill hotels along the way, they had a pretty brilliant idea to hold a “Redwood Marathon” foot race on the highway stretch. To gain even more media coverage they wanted to exploit the “Indian runner frenzy” at that time by limiting the entrants to Native Americans. Oregon Cavemen at the Oregon Caves in 1926. Members promoted Grants Pass tourism by dressing in animal skins. In March, Clyde Edmunson, the manager of the Redwood Empire Association,

By Davy Crockett  Both a podcast episode and a full article Johnny Salo was perhaps the greatest American ultrarunner of the late 1920s. Ultrarunning historian, Andy Milroy, rated him as the top American ultrarunner of the first half of the 1900s. His career was cut short due to tragedy, but during the years 1928-1930 there was no one better or faster. His story is a “rags to riches” tale as he sprang onto the national scene practically overnight. He was the most popular and most successful runner in C. C. Pyle’s historic transcontinental races of 1928-29.  He and other fellow Finnish-American long-distance runners of that time were greatly talented and were able to dominate at many distances. Today, few know of the name of Johnny Salo of Passaic, New Jersey. His story needs to be told. In telling his story, I will also tell the story of the very famous races across America that were nicknamed the “Bunion Derbies.” Several fine books have been written about this famed race held for two years, that attracted the greatest ultrarunners in the world. I won’t try to duplicate all the details of those races but will tell that story from the perspective of its greatest ultra-distance runner, Johnny Salo. The primary source used are the daily updates published in Salo's hometown newspaper. The is the first of two articles about Salo and the Bunion Derbies.  Immigrant living in New York City Salo's application for U.S. citizenship John “Johnny” Salo was born May 25, 1893 in Wiborg, Finland. His original Finnish name was Johannes Nakka. Johnny became a sailor during his teen years. He first visited America in 1908 at the age of 15, loved the country and felt the desire to someday live there, and leave his homeland that at that time was under Russian control Running was a part of the lives of many Finns. At the age of 16, Salo was said to be Finland’s top amateur cross-country runner. In 1911 at the age of 18, he immigrated to the United States to Gulfport, Mississippi, through Antwerp, Belgium. He came over on the ship ”Cis” as a member of the crew of that ship. In 1914, living in New York City, he started to apply for United States citizenship but it wasn’t granted at that time. He worked for the United States Shipping Board, working himself up to the first officer. Salo in the merchant marines As World War I broke out he enlisted into the service along with about 500,000 other immigrants with the hope of receiving citizenship later. Johnny joined the Merchant Marines and served a three-year tour of duty on an emergency fleet based out of Staten Island, New York. He worked his way up through the ranks and achieved the officer rank of Ensign. During the war, he made ten trips on convoys across the dangerous waters of the Atlantic, that were infested by submarines. In 1917, at Brooklyn, he was injured in a scary trolley crash. The car carrying about 50 people was being pulled up a hill on 39th street in Brooklyn when the coupling broke and it slid down the grade. The motorman tried fruitlessly to reverse power and then leaped into the street. The trolley car crashed into a car with passengers. Salo along with 19 others were injured and treated. Salo had other poor luck living in the city. One day he was assaulted as he was coming up the stairs out of a subway. “The assailant inflicted lacerations and contusions on Salo’s head and face.” In 1917, Salo married Amelia Hoveland (1894-1956), his boyhood sweetheart also from Finland. They soon had a son Leo John Salo (1918-1970) and a daughter Helen (1920-1992). World War I ended in 1918 but Salo continued to work on ships. In August 1919, Salo was on an American steamer, Englewood, with 47 seamen bound for Rotterdam. As it was near the North Sea on the Thames River, it struck a mine. They radioed for help and tugs came in time for the rescue and the ship did not sink. In 1922 Salo was finally granted U.S. citizenship. He was among 192,

By Davy Crockett  Johnny Salo, of Passaic, New Jersey, was the greatest American ultrarunner of the first half of the 1900s. This is part two of the story of his amazing life and the story of the 1929 "Bunion Derby." If you haven’t already, go read Part One, Johnny Salo - 1928 Bunion Derby which highlights Salo’s rise to running fame when he placed second in the 1928 race across America in the “Bunion Derby.”  In this concluding article, Salo’s fame grows even more when he ran in the 1929 Bunion Derby with perhaps one of the most exciting finishes in ultrarunning history. But sadly, his amazing running career soon was cut short by tragedy. You may want to find a tissue for the end of this story. This article attempts to celebrate the amazing accomplishments and impactful life of Johnny Salo. Once a huge hero, he has now been forgotten, even by his hometown of Passaic, New Jersey, and needs to be remembered again. Plans for 1929 Bunion Derby By Feb 1929, Charles C. Pyle (1882 – 1939), known as “Cash and Carry Pyle” was at it again, promoting an upcoming 1929 “International Continental footrace” (Bunion Derby) that this time would go from New York to Los Angeles with a more southern route. He traveled in his huge bus around to cities to get contract agreements signed for stopping points. In March, Salo announced locally his intention to get unpaid leave from the Passaic, New Jersey police force to run in the 1929 Bunion Derby. An editorial in his hometown newspaper thought the idea was terrible. “For a long time after his return he was not altogether a well man Salo shouldn’t think of going into another such nerve-wrecking, body-breaking test of endurance. For his own sake and his family’s, he should be dissuaded from making this next race. His sturdy physique, weakened by the last effort could be shattered in the next.” Andy Payne By late March, 81 runners from 14 countries had gathered at Pyle’s training camp on Long Island preparing for race day. They all sought to win the $25,000 first place prize or at least finish in the top fifteen to get a piece of the total $60,000 pot. About 30 of the 1928 Bunion Derby runners returned to run again. The 1928 winner, Andy Payne wouldn’t try to defend his title. “The Oklahoma farm boy, now quite wealthy through the purchase of coal and oil land, will go along as a helper.” He would be Pyle’s, public figure head, be a featured attraction at Pyle’s nightly side-show, and would also act as the “chief patrolman” during the daily runs, aiding runners and crews. The Start Crowds at the start at Columbus Circle Start area jammed The 1929 Bunion Derby began on March 31, 1929. An estimated 50,000 people jammed Columbus Circle in New York City for the send-off. Steve O’Neill, football star of the New York Giants pulled the trigger of the starting gun. The runners first ran 2.5 miles to board an electric ferry on 23rd street (Pier 63) to cross the Hudson River. Running to the ferry About 500,000 people lined the route to Elizabeth, New Jersey, the first stopping point. Police in Elizabeth enforced its Sunday “blue laws” and refused to let Pyle put up his evening side show. The start from the ferry in New Jersey Salo unfortunately became ill early because of the heat, so he took it easy on that first day. But all along the way, he was the center of attention among the fans. Many would ask, “where is Salo?” He ran along in his same usual stride. A Passaic motorcycle cop, Michael Palko (1897-1975), opened up a running lane ahead as they entered Elizabeth, New Jersey where Salo finished in 10th place for the first day. Salo (107) running on the first day William “Bill” Wiklund (1907-1980), his trainer, and Salo's wife Amelia, who was also part of his crew driving along, helped him the best they could to overcome his stomach trouble. Wiklund, also Finnish-American, had been the captain of the champion Passaic High cross country track team in...

By Davy Crockett  For more than a century there has been a “sport” involving combining ultrarunning with golf. No, this isn’t a joke. In 2016, Karl Meltzer of Utah, who has more 100-mile trail wins than anyone, set a world 12-hour speed golfing record of 230 holes, covering about 100 kms in the process. This created attention in ultrarunning circles, and we were left to wonder, how long has such a thing been going on? Running my local golf course What has been called “Marathon Golf” is the art of playing as many rounds or holes as possible in a certain amount of time, usually a day (24 hours), recording strokes for each round. Golf purists have despised this activity over the years. Ultrarunners are amused and fascinated by it. In 1923 a marathon golf frenzy spread across America and again in 1934 several athletes were contending furiously for the world record. How many miles is covered by playing a golf round? It depends on the length of the course of 18 holes. Today's courses average about 6,500 yards. When I run every hole of my local 7,000-yard golf course straight line using a GPS, the distance comes to about 5.5 miles. Today for the average course, an average distance for a round is probably about five miles. Years ago, before golf technology improved, average courses were shorter with a length closer to 4.5 miles. There were, and still are, very short nine-hole courses where playing 18 holes could be as short as 3 miles. Birth in Scotland It is believed that marathon golfing was born in Scotland on a bet. In 1874, an Aberdeen Scotland golfer, W. G. Bloxom, wagered that he could play twelve rounds, 180 holes, on a short 15-hole, 2.3-mile course, and then walk ten more miles, all in 24 hours (about 38 miles total). He won the wager. Musselburgh Links. One of the world's oldest golf courses Bloxom found something he was very good at. Next, he played 16 rounds (96 holes) of the Musselburgh Links nine-hole course, for about 35 miles, against Bob Fergerson. They started at 6 a.m. and finished at 7 p.m. Bloxom averaged a score of 40 for the nine-hole rounds and won five pounds. While the Scots were perfecting their marathon golf skills, a golfer in Canada also wanted to golf an entire day. On June 19, 1906, Canadian, Leveson Gower, of the Ottawa Golf Club completed seven rounds (126 holes) in one day, starting at 3:45 a.m., finishing at 7:30 p.m. His average score was 97, and he covered about 32 miles on a very hot day. English point-to-point matches Maidstone Littlestone-on- Sea In 1898, two English golfers successfully golfed a 35-mile cross-country hole from Maidstone to Littlestone-on-Sea. A wager of five pounds was placed that it couldn’t be done in less than 2,000 strokes. T. H. Oyler and A.G. Oyler took up the wager and a student at Cambridge served as the umpire to keep score, “although if he knew the large amount of monotonous work attached to it, it is very doubtful if he would have accepted it.” The golfers took clubs with them along with about a half-gallon of balls that were newly painted, carried in a bag. Progress in the morning across fields was slow with hazards of hedges and ditches. After lunch, they played the road rather than across fields. But the balls tended to roll into the ditches on the side of the road, so they returned to the fields and woods. They stopped for the night and were back at it the next day. While on a farm, the owner demanded to know what they were doing on his land. “We’re playing golf.” He replied, “I just request you to leave as quickly as possible.” Difficulties include strong winds and a high fence that took five strokes to get over. On the third day, one of the golfers explained, “Twice our ball hit a sheep and we were frequently in small ditches, but could generally play out.” The challenge was accomplished in 1,087 strokes, 17 lost balls, and 72 penalty strokes. One critic stated,

By Davy Crockett  An ultramarathon held in 1911, The Mount Baker Race, was America’s first mountain trail ultramarathon. It was held in the state of Washington on a volcano, Mount Baker, located in the North Cascade mountains above the city of Bellingham. This historic forward-thinking race required participants to run between 28-32 miles and climb more than 10,000 feet through forests, over snow trails, across glaciers, and up to the wind-blown summit overlooking the Puget Sound to the west. This very early mountain trail ultra, held for only three years, involved drama, danger, and near tragedies. It also included a unique feature never to be seen again in ultras. Those in 1911 explained, “The race is most unusual, combining not only mountain climbing but automobile racing and racing by special railway train as well.” Runners would race from Bellingham to their choice of trailhead, run to the summit of Mount Baker and back, and then speed back to town using cars or the train. The race organizers emphasized, “This is not over some ideal racecourse but over rocks and ice and snow, with an element of risk to chance.” Wow! Yes, it was exciting and dangerous. Mount Baker Mount Baker is the third highest mountain in the state of Washington at 10,781 feet. It is located about 30 miles east of the city of Bellingham and is the second-most thermally active volcano in the Cascades after Mount St. Helens.  In geological time, Mount Baker is a baby, perhaps 40,000 years old. Its summit grew about 12,000 years ago, but it has remained busy. Sherman Crater About 6,500 years ago, a major blast created Sherman Crater, just south of the summit and it is the site of escaping steam and gases. In 1864 it was reported that “a shock of an earthquake was felt in Washington Territory and the same day a portion of the top of Mount Baker fell inward. The portion of the mountain which collapsed is said to have been upward of a mile in width." Steam venting from Mount Baker More recently, “In 1975, a large quantity of muddy steam rose into the sky, turning much of the ice-filled Sherman Crater into a steaming lake. An eruption was feared, so the mountain and Baker Lake were closed for the summer.” Activity gradually declined in the following years, but it still is listed as one of Americans volcanoes  with a “very high threat” status. Mount Baker is also one of the snowiest places in the world. In 1999 the Mount Baker Ski Area set a world record for recorded snowfall in a season with 1,140 inches (95 feet). Discovery and first accent In 1792, British explorer, George Vancouver (1757-1798) surveyed the Pacific Northwest coast. Of Mount Baker he wrote. “About this time a very high conspicuous craggy mountain presented itself, towering above the clouds, covered with snow, called by me Mount Baker." Native Americans who lived in the foothills certainly climbed the mountain in early times. In 1866, Edmund Thomas Coleman (1824-1892), from England, was the first known Anglo to attempt to climb Mount Baker. On his first attempt he was turned back by local Native Americans, but later that year he made a second attempt from a different route. He aborted seven hundred feet from the summit because of an “overhanging cornice of ice” and threatening weather. First summit photo Two years later, in 1868, Coleman with others successfully reached the summit. On August 16, 1868. “With the traditional spiked boots, knapsack, provisions, rope, pole, etc., they commenced the real ascent and at 4 p.m. stood on the summit. The last 500 feet were accomplished by the use of a pick to make foot holes in the ice. On top of Grant Peak they raised the Stars and Stripes.   Reaching above the clouds In 1910 in the Bellingham area, there was considerable interest whether climbers could summit the mountain and be back to the city within 24 hours. The local newspaper posted a $100 reward to anyone who accomplished it.

By Davy Crockett  During the first half of the 1980s, Bernd Heinrich, of Vermont, was the fastest ultrarunner in America. Today, few know of him and his amazing running records and accomplishments. Heinrich is the birdman and beeman of ultrarunning. He also was unique from most other ultrarunners in that rather than competing in many races, he was very selective in his race choices. When he ran, he had specific goals to win or set records, with laser focused training for these few specific events. Using this approach, he was able to win and set several American records. Heinrich appeared suddenly on the ultrarunning scene, setting a record in his very first ultra, and he quickly rose to the top of the sport. He was named “Ultrarunner of the Year” three of the first four years of Ultrarunning Magazine. He had a quiet nature and never sought for the running spotlight, but eventually was one of the few to be inducted in the American Ultrarunning Hall of Fame. As a boy, Heinrich grew up living deep in a forest in war-torn Germany. In his life priorities, running was secondary to his true love, observing, researching, teaching and writing about nature. During his intense running years, he was able to find a balance to become a world-renowned expert in his professional naturalist career. Ultrarunning historian, Nick Marshall wrote about Heinrich in 1984, “Often runners don’t know much about the backgrounds of individuals whose athletic accomplishments may be very familiar to them, so it is quite nice to see one of our sport’s star gain recognition as a successful pioneer in a totally unrelated field.” Childhood in Germany Forest in The Hahnheide Bernd Heinrich was born in Poland in 1940. Near the end of World War II, he and his family fled their large farm near Gdansk to escape advancing Russian troops in 1944 and crossed what would be the future boarder for East Germany. Henrich recalled, “The times were not easy. The biggest problem was filling our bellies. Papa decided that the best chance of finding food would be in the forest. We came across a large reserve called “the Hahnheide,” and within it a small empty hut used before the war by a nature club from Hamburg. The forester in charge gave us permission to move in. We lived deep in the forest for five years. We had no work and hardly ever any money.” They survived by foraging for nuts, berries, mushrooms, and hunting small rodents and ducks. This experience began his love for nature and was, “a rare mix of survival and enchantment.” Mushrooms in The Hahnheide Heinrich recalled, “We were totally immersed in nature. Like most animals, our major concern was finding food. I didn’t like picking berries because I had to move so slowly, from bush to bush. I much preferred picking mushrooms when I could run at will through the damp forest, feeling the soft green moss under my bare feet.” Young Heinrich collected beetles and birds’ eggs for his family’s food supply. He became obsessed with the creatures around him. “I had no playmates and never owned a toy. Yet I didn’t feel deprived. Who needs toys after having seen caterpillars from up close and knowing they can turn into moths?” Heinrich became fascinated with bugs and insects. When he was nine, he drew a birthday card for his father and on the back, he wrote that he had collected 447 beetles of 135 species. “I loved spending all day in the woods, and I dreaded the idea of growing up and having to work all day.” He said that he discovered “the joy of running after tiger beetles through warm sand on bare, tough-soled feet.” He said, “When I was a child my family called me Wiesel (Weasel) because I was always running through the forest. A lot of people might think of it as a deprived childhood. I feel just the opposite. I see people in the suburbs as very deprived. They don’t get to touch nature.” The Heinrich family on immigration records coming by the ship Batory in 1951 to New York City.

By Davy Crockett  Ruth Anderson pioneered women's marathon and ultrarunning in the 1970s, at a time when virtually no American women participated in the sport.  She established numerous American ultra women's records and became an inspiration for the first generation of American ultrarunning women. She was a nuclear chemist and began running at all distances, especially marathons, in her 40s.  Thus, all of her many running accomplishments, including world records, were achieved as a masters runner. She became an icon and inspiration in the Northern California running community where she was probably its most prolific runner in local races. But her greatest impact on the sport was made behind the scenes. She aggressively worked hard to open up the doors for women and masters runners to compete in long distance running. The famed ultramarathon London to Brighton race was opened up to women in the 1970s largely because of her persistent lobbying. The women’s masters division was established in running because she wouldn’t accept “no” as an answer. She strived to tear down decades of bias and false beliefs about women and their capability participating in the sport. Ultrarunning legend, Ann Trason said, “I don’t think the sport would be where it is today without Ruth. She was a very fair, generous and kind person who you could really share the love of running with.” Ruth Frances Purney (1929-2016) was born in Omaha Nebraska, in 1929. She was raised in Nebraska by highly educated and professional parents. Ruth’s mother, Florence Nason at age 25 Dr. Purney Ruth's father, Dr. James Francis Purney (1892-1970), was also born in Nebraska. He finished dental school about 1917 and served in the dental corps during World War I. In his professional career, he was a leader and served as president and secretary for various dental associations. He was also an athlete who played football, golf, tennis, and was a member of the Omaha Tennis Club. Dr. Purney was also very involved in the theater, both acting and directing in the 1920s, 30s and 40s. In 1928 he was the director for a performance put on in the local playhouse. His assistant director was a young 23-year-old actor who would become very famous, Henry Fonda. Ruth’s mother was Florence Barney Nason (1890-1952) also of Omaha. Both her parents were graduates of the University of Nebraska. Her mother graduated, in 1915, in Home Economics, specialized in dietetics, and was employed as the head dietitian in a hospital for a time. Her parents were married in 1918. As Ruth grew up, her mother taught home economics at Benson High School in Omaha, Nebraska. During World War II, she was active in the Red Cross, working with the Clarkson Hospital Service League. Grandparents To truly understand who Ruth Anderson was, it is also helpful to know who her grandparents were. Emil Purney Ruth's father’s parents were Emil Jackson Purney (1854-1894), born in Ohio and Ella Rachel DeLay (1873-1900) born in Illinois. They were married in Denver, Colorado and lived in Wyoming, Nebraska, and Portland, Oregon. Emil Purney, who was called “Cheyenne” by his co-workers was a railroad night switchman who worked for the Northern Pacific. In 1894 at the age of 40, he died suddenly of a heart attack, working in the telegraph operator’s room during the night. “He suddenly complained that his heart was troubling him, and lying down on the floor, expired before medical aid could be summoned." Ella Purney was left a young widow, age 21 with five very young children including Ruth’s one-year-old father.  Sadly, Ellen Purney also died six years later when Ruth’s father was just six years old. He and two of his siblings went to live with their uncle and aunt, Jerry and Mary Scott, in Kearney, Nebraska.   Dr. Abner Nason Ruth’s mother’s parents were Abner Weaver Nason (1849-1921) and Jennie V. Barney (1858- 1930 census record.

By Davy Crockett  Old Soldier Barnes was a Civil War veteran from Pennsylvania who became a very popular professional ultrarunner in 1900 when he was in his early 50s. He must have not worn his age well, because people always thought he was much older than he really was. He entered the sport when the six-day race was making a comeback in Pennsylvania, about 20 years since its heyday in the 1800s when it was a huge spectator sport, watching walkers and runners go in circles for six days trying to travel as many miles as possible. There was a brief resurgence of six-day "go as you please" races in America from 1898-1903 until states passed laws to halt these all-day and all-night running affairs along with similar six-day bicycle races. Soldier Barnes, in his 50s, became a highly competitive tough multi-day runner who was well-respected and always a crowd favorite. He was one of the most prolific six-day runners of that time. This article will follow his participation in the sport and hopefully leave readers with a deep understanding of the fascinating six-day running races that were held about 120 years ago. Stephen Gilbert Barnes was born on May 23, 1846, in Sharpsburg, Pennsylvania. He lived in that area near Pittsburgh his entire life and went by "Gilbert" during his running years. Gilbert Barnes’ ancestors were nonconformists of England, some who suffered martyrdom in England.  His ancestor, Richard Barnes settled in the Massachusetts Bay Colony before 1636. His grandfather and namesake, Captain Stephen Barnes (1736-1800) commanded a company during the Revolutionary war and settled in Pennsylvania. His parents were Pennsylvania natives. His father, Joseph Barnes (1777-1855), was a millwright and built ferry boats, and his mother Clara Elizabeth Leer (1818-1847), died about a year after he was born. Early Life At the outbreak of the Civil War, Barnes enlisted in the Pennsylvania Reserves. At the end of his enlistment, he tried to reenlist but they were not recruiting at the time. He then joined Company K of the Pennsylvania Cavalry and fought with them throughout the rest of the war. 1870 Census. Occupation: dry goods merchant After the war, in 1868, Barnes married Margaret Elizabeth Couch (1848-1915) and they had six children from 1869 to 1884. By 1874, he was a dry goods merchant in Springdale, Pennsylvania, but had huge debts of about $7,000 and filed for bankruptcy. It was granted and some of his property was put up for sale and liens liquidated within two years. 1880 census. Occupation: Ticket Agent By 1880 he lost his store and was a ticket agent for the railroad. On Mar 26, 1880, he became postmaster for the town of Armstrong, Pennsylvania. In 1884 a newspaper was started in Indiana, Pennsylvania called the “Indiana Weekly News.” Barnes was employed as the editor for many years. Barnes was always proud of his military service and was a member of the G.A.R. (Grand Army of the Republic) in Post 157. The G.A.R was a fraternal organization composed of veterans of the Union Army, Union Navy, and Marines who served in the Civil War. By 1898 Barnes became a professional runner and he worked very hard to be able to finish high enough to win monetary awards. Fixed-time multi-day races, especially the six-day race had become well-established in the 1870s. Those who competed in them were call pedestrians. These races at first observed strict “heel-toe” walking rules but eventually progressed into “go-as-you-please” formats open to both walkers and runners. Barnes became a runner. 1898 Pittsburgh 72-hour six-day race In February 1898, it was announced that the six-day race "go as your please" footrace would be revived in Pennsylvania after a long absence. A 142-hour race was planned to be held in Saenger Hall, the largest "amusement building" in the city. Unfortunately, plans were changed to hold a six-day bicycle race instead, building on a recent successful event held in Ma...

By Davy Crockett Both a podcast and a full article Paul “Hardrock” Simpson, of Burlington, North Carolina, was an elite colorful, professional ultrarunner of the late 1920s who worked to continue in the sport during the Great Depression. He was one of the very few talented ultradistance runners who bridged to the post-war modern era of ultrarunning in the 1950s. With creativity, charisma, and strong performances, he successfully captured the imagination of the nation during both the periods. During that time, he was recognized as one of the greatest long-distance runners in America. Paul Simpson was born in 1904. When he was a child on the family farm, he had to do the shopping. The nearest store was two miles away. Instead of walking, he ran the four miles to and from the store. He said, “I couldn’t see the point in wasting time walking the distance so I just dug my toes into the hot sand and ran the entire distance.” He began running regularly at age fifteen and won a mile race in high school. Please consider becoming a patron of ultrarunning history. Help to preserve this history by signing up to contribute a little each month through Patreon. Visit https://ultrarunninghistory.com/member Early Running When Paul was still fifteen in 1919, he entered the army by lying about his age. While in the service he gained his first true experience running, by trotting four miles around the post each morning with a boxer friend. He said that it made the morning eggs taste better. Becoming a general was his goal, but since the war ended, he resigned a few months later with 250,000 other soldiers. Once home, Paul decided to finish high school and still hoped to become a general by going to West Point. He was given the name of “Hardrock” by his high school classmates at Burlington high school where he “ran and ran on long straightaways or in circles. He wasn’t so fast, not as sprinters go, but he was durable and defiant to physical wear and tear.” He won the state title in the mile. While on the football team he never missed a play. He indeed was “Hardrock.” Hardrock received an appointment to West Point, but when he finished high school, he decided not to accept it. Instead he entered Elon College where he starred on the track and field team in the 100-yard dash, low hurdles, javelin throw, and the two-mile run. He was also the captain of the cross-country team and set a state record in the 6-mile run. Racing a Horse In 1927 at the age of nineteen, a carefully planned publicity stunt was devised by leading businessmen in Burlington as a way to gain national recognition and more business for the city. Hardrock agreed to race against a Texas Pony, running from his home town of Burlington, North Carolina to Morehead City and back, about 500 miles. A ceremony sent away the two contestants with the town lining the streets to cheer him on. In the early stages he and the horse traded the lead, but by mile thirty-five, Hardrock took control. After 62 miles on the first day, the two exhausted contestants both turned in for the night. By the next afternoon, the horse was leading. Cars lined the roads cheering them on in the various towns. While running through Raleigh, kids chased Hardrock and threw rocks at him. Other towns provided police escorts. Accounts about the finish on the third day vary and changed as Hardrock’s legend grew. The true story is that at about mile 144, a doctor determined that Hardrock’s foot was infected and that he needed to stop running. He did. The horse was in poor shape too, with stiff legs, five miles ahead of him. They both stopped. Hardrock did not win and was not awarded the $500 winner's prize. The truthful story that his family helped compile after his death matched contemporary reports. But the story changed in the years to come. Perhaps the city businessmen purposely told a different story. The changed version was eventually published in Ripley’s “Believe ...

By Davy Crockett  In 1873, Jules Verne published his classic adventure novel, Around the World in 80 Days, which captivated imaginations of the possibility of traveling around the world in a given time and the wonders that could be seen. Also at that time, Pedestrianism, competitive walking, was in its heyday. Starting in 1875 individuals began to discuss if it would be possible to somehow walk around the world. Wagers were made and attempts began. They had no true idea how far it was or how long it would take. It wouldn’t be until more than 100 years later that some guidelines would be established for those who truly wished to walk around the world. Yes, such an activity was real and still is today. How far is it to walk around the world? Today the World Runners Association has set a standard that it must be at least 16,308 miles. Early pedestrians were estimating that it would be between 14,000-18,000 miles. Today the fastest known recognized time is 434 days returning to the point of origin. It all started in earnest around 1875. During that year, circumnavigation ultrawalkers emerged along with frauds who fooled the public to win wagers and made a living off giving lectures about their "walk." Most American transcontinental walks of the 1800s involved fraud and fabrication. Some examples are covered in: "Dakota Bob - Transcontinental Walker." The same was true for most early attempts to circle the globe on foot, but their tales are still fascinating. This multi-part article will share the stories and make some corrections on false claims that have been published in many books. Corporal Lediard - 1786 The earliest known attempt was made more than 230 years ago. During the winter of 1786-87 an English marine corporal named Lediard, an American by birth, started from London with the plan of walking around the globe, or going as far as possible. He planned to cross Europe and Asia, and then be ferried across the Bering Straight to North America, continue to New York and return to England. A sum of $250 was raised for him and he started out. He walked to Hamburg Germany, to St. Petersburg, Russia, and continued into Siberia as far as the city of Yakutsk where he stopped for the winter of 1787-88. But in January 1788, he was arrested by the order of the Empress of Russia. "In half an hour's time, he was carried away under the guard of two soldiers and an officer, in a post sledge (sled) for Moscow, without his clothes, money, and papers and then taken back to St. Petersburg." He was expelled from Russian, sent to Poland with orders not to return to Russia, and thus his walk around the world was foiled. "During all this time, he suffered the greatest hardships, from sickness, fatigue and want of rest, so that he was almost reduced to a skeleton. He said it had been a miserable journey but was very disappointed to not achieve his daring enterprise." Christian Frederick Schaefer - 1866 Christian Frederick Schaefer was a German who spent much of his entire life traveling. In 1866, about the age of 30, he said that he had been traveling the world for the previous 15 years.  He reached Kansas and it was reported, "He has visited nearly all countries in Europe, Asia and Africa and is now en route to the Pacific coast. He estimates that he has traveled over 68,000 miles on foot. He has passports in fifteen different languages and his autograph book contains recommendations and signatures of many of the most distinguished men in this country and in Europe. He is a small man and has been suffering since his birth with a deformity of the spine. But he has unbounded energy and perseverance, is thoroughly impressed with the idea of making a tour around the world and will succeed." His autographs included Andrew Johnson, Ulysses M. Grant, and Brigham Young. After crossing America he claimed to go across China and to Singapore. It 1867 he made it to Australia. In 1882, it was announced,

By Davy Crockett  In Part 1 of this series, about walking around the world, I covered the very early attempts. By 1894, dozens, if not hundreds of walkers, started to participate in an “around the world on foot” craze. For many it was a legitimate ultrawalking attempt, but for most it was just a scam to travel on other people's generous contributions. The typical scam went like this: They claimed that they were trying to walk around the world to win thousands of dollars on a wager, but they had to do it without bringing any money. They needed to be funded through the generosity of others, get free room and board, and free travel on ships. Walkers came out of the woodwork and the newspapers were fascinated by these attempts. Eventually some in the press started to get wise. These walkers started to be referred derisively as tramps, globetrotters, cranks, fools, or "around the world freaks." One reporter wrote, “A great majority of these wanderers upon the face of the earth are men who would rather do anything than work.” Another astute reporter identified many of these walkers as “frauds, traveling over the country practicing a smooth game in order to be wined and dined.” Sprinkled in with these self-promoting frauds were also those who were legitimately striving to circle the globe on foot. Their efforts were real and very hard. They underestimated the difficulty involved yet had amazing experiences. There were too many of these “globetrotters” to even list. This article will share some amazing and bizarre tales of the naive, those that failed, the cheats, and the fakers. In the next article, I will share stories about successful walks around the world.    Samuel Wilson and Horace Yorke – British walkers - 1893 Those that went in pairs usually went the furthest. In 1894 two men from England started a unique walk around the world that would cross through Canada. Samuel Wilson, age 30, of Australia and Horace G. Yorke, an American living in England, both journalists, started their east to west walk around the world from Lincoln, England on August 11, 1893 and they were required to finish it in an unrealistic 18 months. Crazy restrictions were imposed as part of their “journalistic enterprise” that they could not spend any money on food or clothing but had to depend on the hospitality of others they met. Wilson, a journalist, spoke six languages, claimed that he had previously walked from Cape Horn to Boston and had been the guest of President Grover Cleveland at the White House. (No evidence was found of this ever happening). They first walked across Britain to Liverpool and then took a steamer to Quebec City, Canada. They walked the railroad tracks to Montreal, arriving there on Aug 28, 1894. There, they received permission from the Canadian Pacific Railway Company to walk the line across Canada and use all the bridges. The paper wrote, “Nearly every person possesses a craze of some sort, but probably the latest development towards the extreme point of the sensation is that of Mr. Samuel Wilson who informed us that it was his intention to tramp round the world. He simply carries a satchel containing his register, wherein he gets subscribed his visits to the various towns he passes through.”  Wilson was asked why he was really doing the walk. “I am engaged by the Sydney Bulletin for certain purposes and when my books are published, I shall of course, receive remuneration for them” Why was he going without money? “I believe a man can go through anywhere with civility. You hear a lot of nonsense and tomfoolery in this country about savages, but I have never been seriously molested by them.” The two continued their walk across Canada going from railroad section house to the next, day by day and never camped out as they made their way to Calgary during the winter of 1893-94. “It was useless to carry food or water because both would become frozen. Neither was there any wood to build a fire,

By Davy Crockett  During the very late 1800s, people from various countries started to attempt to walk around the world for attention, money, and fame. In Part 2 of this series on walking around the world, I shared many stories of “fakes” who took advantage of the American public by traveling around the Midwest United States claiming to be on treks around the world, but making little or no effort to actually leave the States. However, others at that time made more sincere attempts and successfully did extended walking on multiple continents, accompanied by newspaper stories confirming their presence in different countries. Several walkers were well-educated and certainly not the typical tramps and drunks that were highlighted in Part 2. Some of the individuals covered in this article became famous as explorers and were given credit for conducting valid walks around the world. But did they actually do it? What was their motivation for spending months and years in this activity? What did they do with their lives after their walk? Here are five intriguing stories of individuals who became very famous.  They were a Russian, a Frenchman, a Greek. and two Americans. Konstantin Rengarten – Russian walker - 1894 Konstantin Konstantinovich Rengarten (1864-1906) was born in the Baltics in the Minsk province (today in Belarus). His father was a district overseer of a tax department. He became a ship boy and was an athlete in high school. He was fond of traveling and at an early age went to Western Europe, Asia, and Africa. He longed to walk around the world and spent ten years preparing for the journey. Rengarten started a walk around the world west to east from Riga, Russia (capital of present-day Latvia) on August 15, 1894. He was highly educated, rich, well-funded, and represented ten German newspapers and magazines, five that were published in Russia including the St. Petersburg Herold. He would regularly write columns to be published. He would also ship back home "all manner of specimens, rare and interesting, that are duly arranged and classified by his wife, who is an ardent scientific student." He spoke German, French, Russian, and a little English. He expected to walk for three years. Nikolai Greinert volunteered to go with him. Unlike most of the other globetrotters of the time, Rengarten did not travel due to a wager and paid his own way instead of expecting locals to always support him. When they crossed through Ukraine, the rainy season slowed them down terribly. Greinert gave up and returned to Riga. Rengarten continued alone. In his backpack he carried climbing equipment, woolen underwear, a camel-wrap, a gun, a large hunting knife, a cooking pot, a camera, and a small supply of food. More than a year later, on October 9, 1895, he arrived at Tashkent in present-day Ubekistan, about 4,000 miles to the east. His pace was about 10 miles per day average. He had taken a route through South Russia, to the Black Sea, across the Caucasus Mountains (in Georgia), across Persia (Iran). At Armenia, the Kurds believed that he was a great physician. The lame, halt and blind flocked to him for treatment. “Rengarten wears only woolen clothes, and for the most part adopts the foot-wear used in the countries through which he passes. During the whole journey he has not once had to call in the advice of a doctor, but he has lost a good deal of weight." During Rengarten’s  walk through Persia (Iran), he observed terrible conditions and he found their customs abominable. He said, “all women and girls from 10 years up are absolute slaves, while the male part are lazy, filthy, vile barbarians. The Persian prisons are veritable hells, where the government takes no responsibility except to incarcerate the victims.” His pace through Persia was faster, where he walked 1,100 miles in 70 days, 110 miles per week. He had to spend several nights sleeping in sheds and stables.

By Davy Crockett  Before returning to more serious ultrarunning history, three more “around the world on foot” tales must be told. These stories are so bizarre that they are hard to believe, but they did happen. These individuals gave up years of their lives to gather attention by walking thousands of miles enduring much hardship. Eventually as world conflict exploded into World War I, much of what the public thought was nonsense, disappeared for a time. These three stories involved a “masked walker,” an English man who tried to walk around the world in an iron mask. Also, an Austrian man who tried to push his family in a baby carriage around the world. And finally, the “king of the casks”, two Italians who tried to roll a giant barrel around the world. While wager conditions surrounding all three were hoaxes, the extreme walking efforts that took place were genuine. Attention was given worldwide to their efforts. Commenting on one of them, it was written, “He is one of the oddest of the cranks that have started to go around the earth.” The Masked Walker - 1908 The “man in the iron mask” was a prisoner held in a French prison during the 1600s. Books, theatrical plays, and movies have been produced involving his story. In 1847 Alexander Dumas, author of The Three Musketeers, wrote a fictional tale about the man in the iron mask which captured the imagination of readers in the 19th century. In 1908, word came from England about a bizarre “around the world walk” that had begun, involving a man in an iron mask. A news report included, “When the average English newspaper is looking hard for a genuine unmitigated ass, it’s a plugged Canadian dime to a double eagle that it will settle on an American millionaire.” Indeed, it was believed that an American multi-millionaire put up $100,000 for a person to walk around the world in very unusual circumstances. The conditions included that the man must wear a mask keeping his identity a secret for the entire journey! In addition, he must start with less than five dollars, earn money along the way, get a signature from a town official from every town he entered along with a cancelled postage stamp, must push a perambulator (baby carriage), and must find a wife along the way. Many scoffed that this must be a joke. “The English reading public will believe anything that can be invented by the most prolific and imaginative of minds and expressed in the confines of a newspaper column. The English dailies print a whole lot of stories that would be laughed out of an American newspaper office.” The "iron mask" on a postcard with his assistant Nevertheless, a man in England took up the challenge, and encased his head in a black iron mask “of the fashion of the Middle Ages” and started from London’s Trafalgar Square on January 1, 1908. He pushed a perambulator into a biting wind to begin his ten-year walk around the world, accompanied by an assistant. The masked walker said, “I at once made up my mind to accept the wager. Upon telling the millionaire the decision I had come to, he at once made arrangement with another well-known American gentleman to accompany me. He is only doing it for the sport.” The masked walker preferred that he be called “the iron mask” and the press wondered how he would find someone willing to marry him without looking at his face. But they guessed if he had a chance of winning $100,000 that there would be plenty of takers. He stated that his future wife must be between 25-30 years old, well-educated, of even temper, and have some knowledge of music. As he left Trafalgar Square, he waved to the crowd and yelled, “Farewell, see you in ten years.” He then went over London Bridge and down the Old Kent Road with a large crowd following. He said, “I shall sell photographs and pamphlets while on the journey.” The perambulator was filled with them. That first day he was selling them as fast as he could grab the money.

By Davy Crockett  During the early 1900s, hundreds of people were claiming falsely that they were walking around the world and were given free room and board by the trusting public as they came into towns. Nearly every “around the world on foot” walker mentioned a wager as their motivation for making the attempt, similar to Jules Verne’s Phileas Fogg’s wager in his 1872 novel “Around the World in 80 Days.” More than 95% of these globetrotters made claims that were false. Beginning about 1904, a new twist emerged. A few of the globetrotters claimed that they were part of a race or competition with others to be the first to circle the globe on foot within a certain period. Such a competitive event created a stir of interest when walkers came into town. Wow, it sounded like the modern-day “Amazing Race” reality show. One common thread involving these race claims was that they were organized by the “Touring Club de France.” Did this organization really get involved in Pedestrian races? One participant in such a race was a famous Romanian globetrotter, Dumitru Dan. Numerous articles about him in recent years claim that he was the first person to walk around the world and he is considered a Romanian local hero. Was he truly a participant in a race and did he really walk 62,000 miles around the world as he claimed? For the first time, this will be examined closely. First, I will analyze carefully Dumitru Dan's walking story which he sadly fabricated. It was not true. Then I will examine the similar false race tales of others. The story of Dumitru Dan and other globetrotters is told in the new book by Davy Crockett, Around the World On Foot: The Early Globetrotters. The Touring Club de France The Touring Club de France (TCF) was established in 1890 as a French social club devoted to travel. It was founded by cyclists, inspired by a similar club, the British Cyclist’ Touring Club founded two decades earlier. Originally the club was relatively small with about 3,000 members, but after 15 years it had grown to nearly 75.000. By 1900 the club was also promoting “automobilism.” The club, headquartered in Paris, published an annual journal about places of interest in Europe and the condition of roads. By 1910 they had spent more than four million dollars on improving roads and putting up road signs in France. It also offered many annual prizes to encourage planting and the preservation of trees. Organizing races was not part of their mission. Dumitru Dan - Romanian globetrotter Dumitru Dan (1890-1979) was from Buzau, Romania and eventually became a recognized hero in his city. Some believe he was the first person to walk around the globe and in 1978, he was listed in the Guinness Book of World Records. Decades after his walk, a reporter tape-recorded an interview with Dumitru Dan, and he gave a detailed story of his historic walk. His memoirs given late in his life were the main source for the details of his travels. In addition, there were 1914-1915 newspapers articles from America and Europe, along with some surviving certificates that tell a much different tale than Dumitru Dan's personal story. Most biographers for Dumitru Dan have believed everything he stated in his lectures and the interview/journal, without doing any fact-checking. I realize that some people will not be happy with my story and its analysis. For all the dozens of “around the world on foot” walkers I’ve analyzed, I first assume they are legitimate, and then analyze the evidence left behind, trying to prove that they were authentic efforts. I treated this story carefully, realizing it is about a recognized hero. Prepare yourself, most of his story was fiction. The Touring Club de France competition Dumitru Dan claimed in his story given decades later that in 1908, the Touring Club de France announced a six-year “around the world on foot” race with a prize of a staggering 100,

By Davy Crockett  Attempts to walk backwards for ultra-distances has taken place for more than two centuries. Why? One backwards walker once said, “With the whole world going backwards, maybe the only way to see it is to turn around.” Obviously, such attempts caused a stir of attention. Common comments heard around these individuals were, “What is that fool doing?” and “When did he get out of the asylum?” In recent years some have actually encouraged the practice as a way to burn more calories, sharpen senses, train your peripheral vision, and improve balance. But walking backwards for hundreds and thousands of miles is simply bizarre. Let's first take a look at the very early history of walking backwards for ultra-distances and then examine the stories of attempts to walk backwards across America and around the world. Get Davy Crockett's new book, Strange Running Tales: When Ultrarunning was a Reality Show Early backwards walking On July 11, 1817, at Wormwood Scrubbs, England, Darby Stevens started to walk backwards for 500 miles in 20 days on a wager for 50 guineas. “A line is laid along the ground which is 200 yards in length, and which he takes hold of when he deems necessary.” It is unknown if he was successful. The next day Daniel Crisp of Paddington, England took his place at the same location without the aid of a rope and walked 280 miles backwards in only seven days. A newspaper editorialized, “We have reason to believe that the idle scene of walking backwards, which continues to disgrace even Wormwood Scrubs, is encouraged for the very worst purposes and the public disgust will be still more excited, when we state that it is meant to continue these vicious scenes throughout the whole of the summer. Another of these reprehensible matches is already determined upon.” In 1821 on a road near Bath, England, John Townsend walked 21 miles backward in 6:45. In 1822 he walked backwards 38 miles in 12 hours for three successive days. “This arduous task he performed, and won in great style, admidst the acclamation of a great number of spectators.” Townsend really stepped up his backward game in 1823 when he walked 73 miles backward in 24 hours at Bristol, England on a mile out-and-back. “He commenced at midnight, a man preceded him with a lantern during the night.” He started walking 15-minute miles and large betting took place. Later that year he broke his record with 74 miles. Also that year, Townsend walked backwards 64 miles per day for ten successive days at Ipswich, England. In 1824, Richard Sutton walked backwards 250 miles in six days in Sydney Gardens, in Bath, England. During the Pedestrian heyday of the 1870s and 1880, several individuals claimed that they were the "champion backward walker" and many matches were held. In 1907, Paul Guavarra, a Spaniard who claimed to be a descendant of Christopher Columbus was arrested in New Jersey for walking backwards in houses to beg. He explained that he had been on the island of Marinique when Mount Pelee hand blown up and “contracted the habit of going backwards because he didn’t dare turn his back to the volcano while he was running away from it. He walked backwards into the cell assigned him at the jail.” Patrick Harmon - San Francisco to New York City Patrick Harmon was born in 1865, in Ohio. By 1910 he was living in Great Falls, Montana working for the railroad. He also became a joint owner of Semaphone Cigar Shop at Great Falls. A new mayor was elected on a anti-gambling platform in 1913. Harmon’s place was scrutinized, and the law discovered that gambling was taking place in his establishment. It was raided an in October 1913, Harmon was arrested along with others, admitted that he had a card room, was found guilty and fined $100. In early 1915 Harmon sold his ownership of the shop, moved to Seattle Washington, and started to experiment with backwards walking in the mountains. A farmer friend, William H.

By Davy Crockett  Who was the first person to truly walk around the world? If your search the Internet the answer that come back is: Dave Kunst, an American who claimed to do it in 1970-1974.  Dave Kunst, originally from Minnesota, claims that he is “the first person verified to have completed circling the entire land mass of the earth.” The previous parts of this series have hopefully taught the reader to be very skeptical of such claims. Is his claim true? Did he really walk around the entire world in 1970-1974? Was he the first? Was it truly independently verified, and how? Well, with any such bold claims there are problems with it, even if Guinness was at some point convinced to include it in their record book. The Kunst tale must be told and it will be covered in two parts. He was not the first to walk around the world. Konstantin Rengarten of Belarus and Latvia was the first in 1894-1898. (See Part 3). But I believe Kunst was the first to walk around the "world" in the modern, post-war era. His walk had the usual route and verification issues as other globetrotters before him. Kunst published a 1979 book about his walk, that is difficult to read. I will tell the tale primarily from the hundreds of newspaper articles published between 1970-1974, and I chose to not use addition tales from his book that were full of ego, which were not mentioned in the newspapers. Dave Kunst’s walk inspired and entertained hundreds of thousands of people who witnessed it, read about it in the newspapers, and heard about it on television and radio. But sadly, the walk left within its wake, tragedy, death, heartbreak, deception, and betrayal. Thousands around the world thought the purpose of the Kunst walk was to support a humanitarian cause and they freely financially supported him. But actually, the walk was motivated by a man with a huge ego and with selfish intentions. The truth eventually came out and it surprised and disappointed many people with a shocking ending. Nevertheless, the walk happened, and in the decades that followed, Kunst would inspire thousands of youngsters to dare to fulfil their dreams. Before the walk Kunst family in 1940 census David William Kunst was born on July 16, 1939 at Caledonia, Minnesota where he was raised. His parents were Aloysious “Al” Kunst (1919-2010), a salesman, and Augusta Onstad Kunst (1921-2007). The family was longtime Minnesota residents. Dave’s grandfather, Frank Kunst, immigrated from Germany and was a harness maker. Dave’s mother’s family, the Onstads, immigrated from Norway. In his early years, Dave’s family lived with his Kunst grandparents in Caledonia. While Dave was young, his father Al served in the U.S. Army during World War II and was deployed to the Philippines. On his return he managed lumberyards and then became a salesman. Dave's father, Al Kunst Dave was raised in the Catholic faith and attended a private Catholic school which certainly exposed him to a greater level of rules from authority figures that influenced his later attitudes. He also participated in the scouting organization. He had two younger brothers, Pete and John. Dave said, “My mom had an adventurous spirit, and she instilled that in me during my Caledonia years.” His mom would at time drop him off to go hunting for three days in the woods. At times on those trips he wouldn't hunt but would cover 20-30 miles exploring. He would always come back in a good mood. Jan Wabner Kunst In 1959, Dave married young, at age 19, to Janice “Jan” Wabner, who became a very important figure in the walk story. In her senior yearbook it was written of her, “She can live without poetry, music or walking, but she can’t live without talking.” She was active is Chorus and Drama. Dave went to work for the local county and eventually led a team of surveyors that worked on the highways. In the 1960s the Kunsts had three children, Daniel, Debra, and Brad. In 1970, the Kunst family lived in Waseca,

By Davy Crockett  This is the second part of the Dave Kunst story. Read/Listen/Watch to Part 1 here. Dave Kunst, originally from Minnesota, now from California, claims that he was “the first person verified to have completed circling the entire land mass of the earth on foot.” Kunst's 1970-74 walk has historic importance for the modern-era of ultra-distance walking. I believe that Konstantin Rengarten was actually the first in 1894-1898 (See Part 3). I will show that Kunts' "verified" claim is dubious, but his amazing walk did happen, and the story is fascinating and exciting. But at what cost to those who believed in him? With the end just days away, everything seemly fell apart. In 1970, Dave Kunst of Waseca, Minnesota, started a walk around the world with his brother John. Part 1 of this story covered their travels east to New York, by plane to Portugal, and then on foot with a mule to Afghanistan where John was shot and killed by bandits. Dave was wounded and returned to Minnesota to recover in November 1972. Dave felt strongly that the walk should be continued, and he deeply wanted to get back on the road to experience an exciting and free life, without family, job, or financial obligations. He said, “The walk will definitely go on. I want to keep the ball rolling. I will be back to finish what my brother and I started so he will not have died for nothing.” Plans to resume the walk Pete and Dave In January 1973, only three months since he had been shot in the chest, Dave Kunst announced that he would resume his walk in March 1973 with his brother Pete. They would travel back to Afghanistan and resume the walk from the mountain pass where their brother John was killed. Dave said, “Pete’s wife was reluctant before, but now she is in favor of it.”  Pete said, “It’s too important to all of us to abandon this idea now. My wife understands this, especially since John gave his life for it. We have to finish the job.” Dave’s wife, Jan, was not as sure. She had mixed emotions about him again leaving her alone to raise their young children. She said, “I knew he really wanted to do it. I told him if he had to go, to go and get it over with before the kids are teenagers. I’m scared for him to go back there, but it doesn’t seem to bother him.” His reply to her worries appeared to be rather harsh. “Well that’s a typical reaction of a lot of people. That’s really the difference in individuals. Adventurers don’t think of things like that. Columbus – if he’d thought of that, he wouldn’t have discovered America. Definitely, she’s right, but if I sat here and thought about that. I’d be miserable as hell here.” Dave's brother, Pete Kunst, 28, of Santa Ana, California, was a former marine who served in the Vietnam war.  He was a stock clerk at Data Technology Corp. He was married to Nancy with four children. He didn’t originally join his two brothers because his wife was expecting in 1970. Dave said, “We kind of decided, the three of us, that if one of us dropped out, Pete was going to finish.” Pete said, “I knew one way or another, I was going to go.”  Pete had joined Dave and John on the walk in 1970 for three days when they were in Pennsylvania, but now he was going to join full-time. They estimated that to complete the walk, it would take them at least another year. Pete took out a $2,000 loan to help Nancy support the family while he was gone and she also worked as a secretary. Friends helped to raise money for their air fare back to Afghanistan. The two made preparations both in California and in Minnesota to drum up support. they met with Hubert Humphrey before they left, again collecting a letter of introduction and securing his support. They involved UNICEF as part of their walk. UNICEF did not endorse their effort, but was happy to receive any donations they brought in. For the first two and a half years of the walk, the only verified donation amount was just $3,000.

By Davy Crockett Both a podcast and a full article Prior to the 1960s, most of the ultrarunners participating in ultradistance races were professionals. It was a spectator sport. The general public never had serious thoughts that they too could run ultradistances. My New Book! Grand Canyon Rim to Rim History In 1963, President John F. Kennedy unintentionally played a key role that provided the spark to ignite interest for ultrarunning in America and elsewhere. The door was flung open for all who wanted to challenge themselves.  An unexpected 50-mile frenzy swept across the U.S. like a raging fire that dominated the newspapers for weeks. Tens of thousands of people attempted to hike 50 miles, both the old and the very young. Virtually unnoticed was a small club event run/hiked by high school boys in Maryland that eventually became America's oldest ultra, the JFK 50. Kennedy's Push for Physical Fitness John F. Kennedy had campaigned with a goal to improve the nation’s physical health, and once in office he made that a priority. He feared that the future generations would be spectators of sport rather than participants on the field of play because of their lack of physical fitness. Shortly after he was elected, President-elect Kennedy published an article in Sports Illustrated called, “The Soft American,” in which he wrote, “we can fully restore the physical soundness of our nation only if every American is willing to assume responsibility for his own fitness and the fitness of his children. All of us must consider our own responsibilities for the physical vigor of our children and of the young men and women of our community. We do not want our children to become a generation of spectators. Rather, we want each of them to be a participant in the vigorous life." In 1961 a “Fit as a Fiddle” newsreel was produced by Kennedy’s Physical Fitness Program targeting youth to understand the importance of physical fitness. Also, that year, 200,000 copies of a song called “Chicken Fat” was distributed to all schools with the lyrics, “Nuts to the flabby guys! Go, you chicken fat, go away!” Detroit officials banned the song, judging the lyrics to be in bad taste for children. There was also resistance to the idea exercising to music. Fitness Test for Marines General David M. Shoup Back in 1908, President Theodore Roosevelt issued an executive order that every Marine captain and lieutenant should be able to hike 50 miles in 20 hours. If necessary, this could be accomplished over a three-day period. For the final half mile, the test required the marines to "double-time" to the finish. In 1962 Kennedy discovered this executive order and asked his Marine Commandant, David M. Shoup (1904-1983), to falsely claim that the discovery was his. Kennedy then wanted Shoup to find out how well his present-day officers could do with the 50-mile test. Shoup made it an order to his Marines. Twenty Marine officers would be selected, ten captains and ten lieutenants to take the test in mid-February 1963, at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. News Article Starts the Frenzy An Associated Press article was published nationwide on February 5, 1963, that shared the story of the Roosevelt test and Shoup's order to test 20 of his Marines. It received intense national attention. President Kennedy never directly challenged America to take the 50-mile challenge, and no walks were sponsored by the Fitness Council, but the article inspired many across the country, who were eager to test themselves too. Naïve, untrained citizens, immediately decided to hit the road without much planning to undertake the challenge in the middle of the cold winter. In response, the government tried to make it clear that they were not encouraging and sponsoring 50-mile hikes conducted by the public. The Public Starts Hiking 50 Miles Colonel Tuma during his run/hike On the very evening after the article was published, Lt. Colonel James W. Tuma,

By Davy Crockett  For both ultrarunners and hikers, the Grand Canyon is considered by most, one of the greatest destinations to experience. Thousands make their pilgrimages each year to experience the joy of journeying across the Canyon's great expanse, rim-to-rim (R2R). Crossing the Canyon and returning back is an activity that has taken place for more than 125 years. Native Americans crossed the Canyon centuries earlier. During the spring and fall, each day people cross the famous canyon and many of them, return the same day, experiencing what has been called for decades as a “double crossing,” and in more recent years, a "rim-to-rim-to-rim" (R2R2R). Anyone who descends into the Canyon should take some time learning about the history of the trails they use. This article tells the story of many of these early crossings and includes the creation of the trails, bridges, Phantom Ranch, and the water pipeline, the things you will see along your journey. Hopefully this will help you to have a deeper respect for the Canyon and those who helped make it available for us to enjoy. New Book! Grand Canyon Rim to Rim History. This book shares a 130-year history of the Canyon crossings and contains twice the amount of content and stories compared to these articles. Order on Amazon Grand Canyon Today - note the dates Introduction My new book! Grand Canyon Rim to Rim History Today if you hike or run across the Grand Canyon you have choices.  You can start from the South Rim or from the North Rim. A South start is more common. On the South side, you can use either the Bright Angel Trail from Grand Canyon Village, or the South Kaibab Trail that starts a few miles to the east, using a shuttle to Yaki Point. On the North side, the North Kaibab Trail is used. These are the main trails into the Grand Canyon and referred to as the "Corridor Trails," used by the masses and mule trains. Today, there are two bridges along the Corridor to cross the Colorado River, Black Bridge or Silver Bridge. When this history story starts abut 1890, there was no Grand Canyon Village, no Phantom Ranch at the bottom, and these trails did not exist. There were few visitors to either Rim because they lacked roads and there were no automobiles yet.  Early miners used many places to descend. This article will concentrate on the corridor region near Grand Canyon Village where most modern crossings are taking place. Creation of Bright Angel Trail (South Side) South Rim about 1890 The upper part of Bright Angel Trail, coming down from the South Rim, was originally a route used by the Havasupai to access what became known as Indian Garden, halfway down the Canyon, about 3,000 feet below. In 1887, Ralph Cameron (1863-1953), future US senator of Arizona, prospected and believed he found copper and gold near Indian Garden. He said, "At that time my only purpose in building the trail was to use it in pursuing mining operations." Peter Berry Work began on December 24, 1890 and it would take 12 years to complete. In 1891 Peter D. Berry, (1856-1932), longtime friend of Cameron  succeeded in obtaining rights for the trail, including rights to collect tolls which were not collected until 1901. Berry had also helped engineer the Grandview Trail (Berry Trail) further east. Other trails were being used. Hardy tourists were descending down to the Colorado River using the Bass Trail far to the west. By the end of 1891, after spending $500, and two months of labor, a very rough trail existed that descended the Bright Angel fault to Indian Garden.   The trail's name John Hance Originally called the "Cameron Trail", by 1892 the trail was also named “Bright Angel Trail.” It would cost about $100,000 and 12 years to fully build, and at its height was worked on by 100 men. How did the trail get its name? This is a subject of entertaining legend and folklore. One story was told by "Captain" John Hance (1840-1919) who cam...

By Davy Crockett  This is the second part of the Rim-to Rim story. Read/Listen/Watch to Part 1 here. Descending into the inner Grand Canyon is an experience you will never forget. Part one covered the very early history of crossing the Canyon from 1890-1928. Trails that could accommodate tourists were built, including Bight Angel and South Kaibab trails coming down the South Rim. A tourist in 1928 explained, "the Kaibab trail is a fine piece of work, easy grade, wide and smooth, while the Bright Angel trail still belongs to the local county and is maintained by it, and is steep, narrow and poorly kept up. Each person going down Bright Angel pays a toll of one dollar." There was no River Trail yet, so those who came down the Bright Angel Trail used the Tonto Trail at Indian Garden to connect to the South Kaibab Trail. "The Tonto trail was perfectly safe and the scenic views were wonderful." Phantom Ranch was established in the early 1900s. The same tourist continued, "It is beautiful down here now in the dusk with the towering cliffs above and a mountain brook singing along in front of my cabin, and the weather at least 20 degrees warmer than up on the rim, where the ground is covered with snow. After a hearty, well-cooked beefsteak dinner, I am settled in a one-room, stone walled, cement floored cabin, with a roaring fire in a cute corner open fireplace." My new book! Grand Canyon Rim to Rim History The North Kaibab trail coming down from the North Rim was completed in 1928.  The steep, rough Old Bright Angel Trail coming down the North Rim was abandoned and today is an unmaintained rugged route.  A scary swinging suspension bridge spanned the Colorado River, bringing tourists over to Phantom Ranch. Multi-day rim-to-rim hikes had begun both from the North Rim and the South Rim. How all this came to be by 1928 is told in Part One. If you have not read, listened to, or watched Part One first, you should. Black Bridge On the Swinging Suspension Bridge In 1926. nearly 23,000 automobiles entered the park, bringing 140,000 visitors. As tourist traffic continued to increase to Phantom Ranch, a new bridge was needed. The swinging suspension bridge that was constructed in 1921 was nearly impossible to cross when it was windy. High winds had capsized it more than once. "In using the old swinging bridge, it was necessary for tourist parties to dismount in crossing, the animals being taken over one at a time. This caused congestion and delay at one of the hottest points on the trans-canyon trip." One visitor mentioned, "We crossed the Colorado river on a frail looking bridge, one mule at a time only, rider unmounted, and the bridge waving up and down under the weight. Having gained so much weight since leaving home, I was obliged to cross considerably in advance of my mule." Bringing down a main cable In 1927, $48,000 was quickly appropriated for a new bridge to connect the two Kaibab trails. Construction began on a new bridge on March 9, 1928 with nine laborers who established their camp on the confluence with Bright Angel Creek. The crew soon grew to twenty. All the 122 tons of structural materials were brought down into the canyon on mules except for the massive four main support cables. Forty-two men, mostly Havasupai Indian workers, spaced 15 feet apart, carried the huge 550-foot main bridge support cables down the South Kaibab Trail on their shoulders, about fifty pounds per man. Each of the four cables weighed 2,154 pounds. Bringing down a wind cable “When they got to the bottom of the canyon, after getting rid of the cable, they went down onto a flat, gathered brush, made sort of a trench of it, and placed big boulders on the brush. Then they set fire to it. After the fire died down, they spread their blankets over a wooden frame that they had constructed, doused the rocks and live coals with water, and walked through this tunnel of blankets getting steam baths and then jumped into the mudd...

By Davy Crockett  This is the third part of the rim-to-rim series. Read first Part 1 and Part 2 As the Grand Canyon entered the 1940s, the corridor trails were in place along with the Black Bridge across the Colorado River, making rim-to-rim travel on foot possible. By the early 1960s, a few daring athletes were hiking or running rim to rim in a day and even a few completing double crossings in a day. Credit goes to Pete Cowgill (1925-2019) and his Southern Arizona Hiking Club from Tucson, Arizona, who demonstrated to all that crossing the Canyon on foot in a day was not only possible but was an amazing adventure. The Boy Scouts in Arizona started to offer rim-to-rim patches to those who completed the hike. A rim-to-rim-to-rim patch appeared in 1963. Publicity for the patches were being published in national scouting magazines. That year a fifty-mile hike craze was also burning throughout the country attracting more hikers to the Canyon. Arizona State College in Flagstaff started to organize large rim-to-river and back hikes. Warnings were offered by the wise: "It is more rugged than anything you have every pictured. Despite its famed beauty, the canyon is a natural killer and hardly a year goes by that it doesn't claim at least one life in some way." In 1963, visitors topped 1.5 million and serious growing pains were felt at Grand Canyon Village with traffic, crowded lodging, and strained Park services. More development was needed but the big limitation was water. The quest for water would result pausing in rim-to-rim travel for more than five years. The Trans-Canyon Water Pipeline As you hike or run rim to rim, you see can see at times pipes and other indications that there is a pipeline buried under the North Kaibab and other trails. This is the trans-canyon pipeline which is the lifeblood for the South Rim and other locations along the way that supplies the water for your adventure. There is significant history behind the creation of this pipeline and several people even lost their lives during construction. As you travel rim to rim you should observe and know what once took place on the trails you travel including a massive 1966 flood, the most destructive event to the corridor inner canyon in recorded history. South Rim Water tankers deliver to South Rim Obtaining water for both Grand Canyon rims has always been a challenge. Since before 1900, on the South Rim, water was hauled in from 18 miles or more. By 1919, the Santa Fe railroad hauled up to 100,000 gallons per day to Grand Canyon Village. In 1926 a reclamation plant was built to reclaim water for non-drinking uses which helped some. Deep wells did not exist because of all the sedimentary rock layers. Rainwater would just run out of the rock and down into the Canyon. Tram lowering trailer In 1931 construction of a water system began at Indian Garden to pump water up to the South Rim. A cable tramway was constructed from the rim to about a mile above the Garden which was used to bring down a five-ton tractor to help with construction. The tram was removed in 1932 but signs of it still be seen 50 yards northeast of the 3-mile rest house. By 1934, the pump was in operation bringing about 150,000 gallons per day 3,200 feet up a six-inch pipe to the South Rim. The water was still supplemented during the summer with water tank train cars and million-gallon storage tanks. Portions of this pipeline are still visible. North Rim Over on the North Rim, there were a few springs a couple hundred feet below the rim. During the early 1920s. young Robert Wylie McGee would make daily trips to a spring to haul water by burro to Wiley Way Camp. He wrote, “The spring was about 5/8th of a mile, down in the mouth of a draw, west of the camp. The climb was probably a 200-foot change in elevation. Brighty (the burro) and I would make about four to seven trips daily. I filled the cans out of a wood barrel that the spring dribbled into using a b...

By Davy Crockett  Part 4 of the Rim-to-Rim History Series. See also Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 New Book! For anyone hiking or running rim-to-rim, most people will usually stop at a location about a mile below Roaring Springs that today is called the Manzanita Rest area, named after a creek coming down a small nearby side canyon. But the name and the rest area are a fairly new, a 2015 creation. Newer visitors have no idea that there is a rich history that took place at that location from 1973-2005. For veteran rim-to-rim hikers and runners, they still call this place fondly, “The Aiken Home.” Yes, a couple lived there and raised three children in the depth of the canyon for more than three decades. The Aiken family made a deep impact on rim-to-rim history by helping, greeting, and even feeding thousands of visitors over the years. Bruce Aiken managed the crucial water system at nearby Roaring Springs completed in 1971, and Mary Aiken taught and raised their children and assisted hikers. Who were the Aikens? How did they come to live in the Canyon? What was it like for three energetic children to spend their childhood in the Canyon away from many modern conveniences and “normal” entertainment and childhood friends? What was life like for them? Their tale is now almost forgotten, and evidence that they lived there has been replaced by a rest area and ranger station. But when I visit that amazing spot (nearly 40 times), I always think about the Aiken family and visualize the unique family that lived there for so many years. There are now more than 100 stories like this on the Ultrarunning History Podcast. Subscribe today! Bruce Aiken’s early years Richard Aiken - painting by Margaret Aiken Bruce Aiken was born September 10, 1950 in New York City’s Greenwich Village to Richard and Margaret Aiken. He was the second of a family of five boys. His father, Richard Little Aiken (1918-1997) grew up in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania where his father was a lawyer. Richard graduated from the Carnegie Institute of Technology in 1940, in theatre. He worked as a sports announcer for a local radio station and an actor. Following Pearl Harbor, Richard enlisted in the Navy, and became a naval aviator. He met Margaret during the war and afterwards they married and settled in Greenwich Village, New York City, where all their children were born. There, he worked for NBC as a television producer. Margaret Aiken - self portrait Margaret Davis Aiken (1924-2003) was born in Las Cruces, New Mexico, raised in Arizona along the Mexican border, where her father was an immigration inspector. During the Great Depression her family moved to Phoenix, Arizona where she studied art at Arizona State University. During World War II, she served in the navy women’s reserve as a WAVE in Santa Ana, California, where she met Richard. Margaret became a very accomplished artist. Her paintings were widely shown in New York, Florida, and at the Grand Canyon. Bruce in 1963 The family moved to Long Island where young Bruce started to draw and paint with his mother. The family often went on vacations to Arizona, to visit his grandparents and cousins. A 1963 visit to the Canyon had a deep impact on young Bruce. In art school - 1968 In 1968, Bruce graduated from high school and was voted “most talented.” Following in his mother’s footsteps, he was interested in art and enrolled in New York’s prestigious School of the Visual Arts. His father wanted him to go into advertising because he believed that was where the money was, but Bruce wanted to be an artist. Bruce said, “I suppose he was trying to help, but I think he was too domineering, too demanding and too unwilling to hear or understand what I was trying to do.” This caused a rift between the two that would last for years. Aiken attended the art school for only two years, saying, “I got caught up in all the things happening in the ‘60s and decided that what I re...

By Davy Crockett Both a podcast and a full article (Listen to the podcast episode which includes the bonus story about my love for the Grand Canyon, and the 1,000 miles I've run down in it.) Crossing the Grand Canyon on foot is something many visitors of the spectacular Canyon wonder about as they gaze across its great expanse to the distant rim. Crossing the Canyon and returning back is an activity that has taken place for more than 125 years. Each year thousands of people cross the famous canyon and many of them, return the same day, experiencing what has been called for decades as a “double crossing,” and in more recent years, a "rim-to-rim-to-rim." In 1891, crossings of the Grand Canyon using rough trails on both sides of the Colorado River, in the "corridor" area, were mostly accomplished by miners and hunters.  Double crossing hikes, in less than 24 hours started as early as 1949. More were accomplished in the 1960s and they started to become popular in the mid-1970s. Formal races, for both single and double crossings, while banned today, are part of ultrarunning history. This article tells the story of many of these early crossings and includes the creation of the trails, bridges, Phantom Ranch, and the water pipeline Please consider becoming a patron of ultrarunning history. Help to preserve this history by signing up to contribute a little each month through Patreon. Visit https://ultrarunninghistory.com/member Grand Canyon Today - note the dates Introduction For those who have not yet had the experience of crossing the Grand Canyon, this overview will help understand the history.  Today if you hike or run across the Grand Canyon you have choices.  You can start from the South Rim or from the North Rim. It depends where you are traveling from. A South start is more common. On the South side, you can use either the Bright Angel Trail from Grand Canyon Village, or the South Kaibab Trail that starts a few miles to the east, using a shuttle to Yaki Point. On the North side, the North Kaibab Trail is used. These are the main trails into the Grand Canyon and referred to as the "Corridor Trails," used by the masses and mule trains. There are two bridges along the Corridor to cross the Colorado River, Black Bridge (used by mules and South Kaibab Trail) or Silver Bridge (Bright Angel Trail). When this history story starts, there was no Grand Canyon Village, no Phantom Ranch at the bottom, and these trails didn't exist. There were few visitors to either Rim because they lacked roads and there were no automobiles yet.  It is believed that Native Americans crossed the Canyon for centuries in many locations up and down the canyon and early miners used many places to cross, including the Bass location. I have run double crossings using the Grandview Trail (twice) and Hermit Trail, so there are many possibilities. This article will concentrate on the corridor region near Grand Canyon Village where most modern crossings are taking place. Creation of Bright Angel Trail (South Side) South Rim about 1890 The upper part of Bright Angel Trail, coming down from the South Rim, was originally a route used by the Havasupai to access Garden Creek, 3,000 feet below. In 1887, Ralph Cameron (1863-1953), future US senator for Arizona, prospected and believed he found copper and gold near Indian Garden. The original idea for a trail was for mining. Work began on December 24, 1890 and it would take 12 years to complete. In 1891 Peter D. Berry (1856-1932) obtained rights for the trail, including collecting tolls. By 1892 it was called the “Bright Angel Trail.” It cost about $100,000, and at its height was worked on by 100 men. How did the trail get its name? This is a subject of legend and folklore. One story was told by "Captain" John Hance (1840-1919) who came to live at the canyon in about 1883 and was famous for his stories and yarns about the canyon.

By Davy Crockett Both a podcast and a full article As the Great Depression began raging across the world, race events for professional ultrarunners pretty much dried up in the United States. All professional sports suffered in America during that time. For a few years, promoters in Canada filled the void, and were able to attract some of the most talented American ultrarunners to head northward, to run in their races. One such race was the 1930 Peter Dawson Relay held in the province of Quebec. This was one of those forgotten races that deserves a place in the history of ultrarunning. Both New York and Boston bid for the race but it was awarded to Quebec. It included many of the greatest American ultrarunners of that time. Most of them have been totally forgotten and all have now passed away, but some of them lived into the 1980s and 1990s. Please consider becoming a patron of ultrarunning history. Help to preserve this history by signing up to contribute a little each month through Patreon. Visit https://ultrarunninghistory.com/member The race participants were an interesting breed. They had a passion for endurance running and enjoyed the attention it gave them. Most of the American entrants in the relay had run together for many weeks in 1928 or 1929, racing across America in C.C. Pyle’s "Bunion Derbies," They knew each other well. Several of the Canadians had competed against each other at a 200-mile “Green Stripe” snowshoe race held the previous winter, an event that caught the imagination and attention of Quebec and elsewhere. The Race Formation Armand Vincent The 1930 Peter Dawson Relay was organized by sports promoter, Armand Vincent (1900-1948). He was a well-known boxing promoter in Quebec. The race involved teams of two runners each, using a similar relay format that was popular at the time for six-day bicycle races. A description of the race included, “Unlike the man-killing Pyle 1928-29 marathon races across America which saw individual runners plodding along wearily the width of the continent, the Peter Dawson event will be raced in relays. The relay arrangement ensures more sustained and greater speed, a far more testing race.” The distance for the race was planned for about 500 miles, in daily stages, for eight days. The top runners would average running the entire distance at nearly six-minute-mile pace. Rules for each stage would determine how often the runners were allowed to switch off with their teammate. The race was set for July 1930 by the sponsors, Samuel and Allan Bronfman of the Distillers Corporation of Montreal. Yes, it was sponsored by a liquor company during the period of prohibition in America. These two businessmen had successfully put on the Great Stripe International Swimming Marathon in 1929 and the 1930 Green Stripe 200-mile six-stage snowshoe race from Quebec City to Montreal. The sponsors named this running event, “Peter Dawson,” after a popular brand of Whisky. They had made a fortune exporting alcohol to the United States during the prohibition years, which wasn’t against the law to do in Canada. The start was set to start in Montreal. The course would follow roads, mostly dirt at that time, making a giant circle within the Quebec Province. For the last stage, a marathon (26.2 miles) was planned to be held in the large baseball stadium at Montreal. It is important to put this and other ultradistances races of the time it their proper historical perspective. These runners were true trail ultrarunners who ran dirt roads. They would not be running six-minute-miles on nice smooth paved roads, they were running on rutted dirt roads that went over hills and became muddy. Several of these runners had already run up and over mountains, running across America -- twice. Many had recently run against horses for hundreds of miles and beat them. Think about the inaccurate claim that was told in recent decades,

By Davy Crockett  You can read, listen, or watch In the late 1970s, Hawaii had the most runners per-capita than any other state. Some called it the “running capital of the world.” Hawaii was also an early adopter of the 100-mile race and other ultras distances races. Similar to the Fort Mead 100 in Maryland (see episode 75), Hawaii’s first 100-milers grew out of ultra-distance relays and shorter ultras. In 1976, “Primo Ultramarathon and Relays” began at Hawaii Kai on the eastern tip of Oahu, using a four-mile paved road loop. A solo 50-miler was included and by 1978 expanded into solo distances of 50K, 50-miles, 100K, and 100 miles. A massive 40-mile relay was also held each year with teams of ten runners. Running on the islands exploded. This popularity did not happen by chance. It came about because of many key individuals who devoted much of their lives to make distance running races available to the general public in Hawaii.  To have an appreciation of the first 100-milers established in Hawaii, one must learn about the rich running history that evolved there over the years. Norman Tamanaha – The Father of Distance Running in Hawaii Distance running took place on the Hawaiian islands for centuries. Legends exist of ultrarunners running around the various islands well before the Kingdom of Hawaii was established. During the years before World War II, Norman K. Tamanaha (1907-1977) of Palama, Hawaii, emerged as a top runner when he won the Diamond Head five-miler in 1937. The first known marathon held in the islands was in 1943 from Moiliili to Makapuu. In 1946 Tamanaha became the Hawaiian AAU 10-mile champion, and he was the first Hawaiian to finish the Boston Marathon the following year. He dominated Hawaiian races for a decade in his 40s and finished the Boston Marathon a total of five times. His best performance there came in 1952 when he finished in fifth place with 2:52:10. He achieved great fame on the islands, organized many races, was a longtime high school track coach, and became known as “the father of distance running in Hawaii.” Roger Toguchi - AAU Races in Hawaii As early as 1954, the AAU in Hawaii was organized and became active in putting on road races of various distances including the Hawaiian AAU Marathon. Roger S. Toguchi (1924-1978), a service station owner, was the chairman of the AAU Hawaiian long distance running committee for many years. He was a respected running pioneer who helped a generation of long-distance runners. He designed the initial marathon course to finish in front of his service station. Continuing into the 1960s, Toguchi made a huge contribution, including financially, to amateur athletics in the Islands, not only to distance running but also to weightlifting and women’s track. For his efforts, in 1962 he was awarded a life-time membership in the AAU. From 1963-66, the Hawaiian AAU Marathon was run as loops at Kapiolani Park and then changed to follow a route that later became the course for the Honolulu Marathon. Johnny Faerber  Johnny Faerber (1936-) was a legendary runner in Hawaii. He won the 1967 Hawaii marathon and recalled, “I was the only one to finish in ’67. We got started at 8 a.m. and it was really hot by the time we got out to Hawaii Kai. There were six or seven other guys running, but they all dropped out. We didn’t have water stops or any of that stuff then." In 1971 Tamanaha helped move the marathon to Maui and in 1976 it was renamed to “Maui Marathon.”   Tamanaha died at the age of 70 in 1977 and Toguchi died at the young age of 53 in 1978. Kapiolani Park Kapiolani Park, in Honolulu on the east end of Waikiki, became the centerpiece for Hawaiian running. It is one of the oldest public parks in Hawaii. In 1952, the 300-acre park started to become popular for use, when it was renovated. The two-mile circumference became a very common place to run with views of the ocean and Diamond Head. Over the years,

By Davy Crockett  You can read, listen, or watch The 1978 Western States 100 was the second year the race was held.  Six years earlier, seven soldiers from Fort Riley Kansas proved that the horse trail could be conquered on foot, and they were awarded with the “First Finishers on Foot” trophy by Western States founder, Wendell Robie (1895-1984). Two years later, in 1974, Gordy Ainsleigh surprised his horse endurance peers when he ran the 89-mile Western States Trail in less than 24 hours. Three years later, in 1977, Robie decided it was time to organize a foot race on his trail. The inaugural race was hastily put together by a few volunteers who had horse endurance race experience but did not have much experience with human running races (see episode 71). The first race was mostly self-supported and fairly dangerous in very high temperatures. They were lucky that there were no serious heat-related emergencies, and only three of the 16 starters finished. Planning for the 1978 Western States 100 Run became more serious and was much better organized. The 1978 race should be considered as the first fully supported Western States Endurance Run which gave all entrants a good chance to finish. Please help support this podcast. I can offer a 25% discount on Ultrarunning Magazine subscriptions and renewals. Some proceeds help fund this website. Visit https://ultrarunninghistory.com/mag  Subscribe or renew today with this link. Gang of Four - Curt and Mo Sproul, Phil and Shannon Gardner A Western States Endurance Run Board of Governors was formally organized by race founder, Wendall Robie. The four members, affectionately called “The Gang of Four,” were all horse endurance riders, still learning what ultrarunning was all about. They were Phillip (1944-) and Shannon Gardner (1947-), and Curtis (1949-) and Marion “Mo” Sproul (1952-). Curt served as the president. Even though they still had much to learn about the running sport, they blazed ahead into history to put together a mountain ultra that many other key ultras would mimic. Joe Sloan, age 44, an experienced runner and public relations specialist from Auburn who ran in the Boston Marathon that year claimed that he was also on the new Board of Governors that year. Gardner's Western States office at the bank Because of difficulties experienced in 1977 with both runners and horses on the same trail, especially with single-track sections, the run was moved to the month before the Tevis Cup (Western States Trail Ride), on June 24, 1978. Shannon Gardner worked at Robie’s bank, Heart Federal Savings and Loan, made contacts to get the word out, and fielded calls from interested runners. Marketing Western States 100 Marketing for the Run was mostly by word-of-mouth, but in a 1978 Runner’s World magazine, an advertisement was included that read: “Western States 100-mile Endurance Run. An experience only for ultramarathon veterans. Course: rugged, uncertified over mountains, through streams, with snakes and bears. All entries must pass physical exam. No one under 18. 30-hour time limit.”  The entrant's fee was $10. Mo Sproul explained, “We did try to make our publications as top-drawer as they could be, so that we presented an organized face to the outside world, even though a lot of it was being done in my kitchen or at Shannon’s desk.” The 1978 entry form warned, “Do not enter unless in excellent physical condition, have run marathon distances over 26 miles, and have had a complete physical examination, preferably including a stress electrocardiogram.” The Gordy Ainsleigh myth begins The race organizers started to prop up the legend of Gordy Ainsleigh and numerous news articles erroneously stated that he was the first to cover the course on foot. They purposely decided to make no mention of the soldiers from Fort Riley, Kansas who completed the course on foot during the Tevis Cup in 1972 and were given the "First Finisher on Foot"...

By Davy Crockett  You can read, listen, or watch The Comrades Marathon (about 55 miles), held in South Africa, is the world’s largest and oldest ultramarathon race that is still held today with fields that have topped 23,000 runners. The year 2021, marked the 100th anniversary of Comrades Marathon “The Ultimate Human Race.” Comrades today is one of the most paramount ultrarunning events on the international calendar. It has a rich 100-year history packed with amazing accomplishments by more than 400,000 finishers through the years. How did it start and what kept it going for a century? This episode will cover the first two years of the race in 1921 and 1922. New Book!  Classic Ultramarathon Beginnings Read about the early history of Comrades and other classic Ultramarathons.  Available on Amazon. Vic Clapham Vic Clapham (1886-1962) was a train engineer from Durban, South Africa and became the founder of the Comrades Marathon. He was born in London and went to South Africa with his parents when he was 13 years old in 1899 while the Anglo-Boer War was taking place between the British Empire and two Boer states who were fighting against British rule. Diamonds and gold had been discovered in those states. As a boy during the war, Clapham enrolled as an ambulance man in the Cardock Town Guard. Thousands died on both side of the conflict, especially women and children Boers. As a youth, Clapham attended Wynberg Boy’s High School, one of the best academic schools in Cape Town, and second oldest in South Africa. He would often walk about eight kilometers to school each day from his home. Usually he was given a three-penny “tickey” each day to pay for a train ride home so he could help in his father’s grocery store. Once he spent the money on sweets and instead walked back home. That resulted in a beating from his grandmother, and he never repeated that offence. He married Nellie in 1912 and they eventually had six sons. World War I broke out in 1914 when Clapham was age 28. As South Africa entered the bloody conflict, Clapham signed up with the 8th South African Infantry and was sent to German East Africa, now Tanzania. During his service he went on a 1,700-mile march in East Africa. He came down with blackwater fever, dysentery, malaria, and was close to death because of the diseases. In 1917 when he was mostly recovered, he travelled home by wagon and on a hospital ship where he was deemed medically unfit. Once home he worked for the local government railway as a fireman. The Idea for Comrades Marathon Returning British soldiers formed the “League of Comrades of the Great War” to represent the rights of veterans of the war.  Clapham was interested in establishing a memorial to the suffering and deaths of his comrades during the war. Instead of creating a statue, he wanted a living memorial that would grow and embody the spirit of fortitude, endurance and bravery that typified his fallen comrades. He produced an idea to organize an event on foot from his hometown in Pietermarizburg to the coastal city of Durban, a distance of about 56 miles. Clapham was inspired by the London to Brighton walking races that were held before World War I (see episode 58) and wanted to create a similar race in South Africa. It was reported, “He felt that if infantrymen, drafted into the armed forces from sedentary jobs, could endure forced marches over great distances, trained athletes could cover the distance between the two cities without great difficulty.” Clapham approached the League of Comrades about the idea in 1918 but received no support. They thought that the idea was crazy, far too strenuous for even trained runners. But he did not give up over the next several years, and eventually received approval for the event to be held in 1921. The League wanted their name associated with the event and sponsored it by lending Clapham one pound sterling which needed to be repaid.

By Davy Crockett  You can read, listen, or watch Professional ultrarunners/pedestrians of the late 1800s and early 1900s were constantly looking for endurance races or head-to-head matches to prove their abilities and make significant amounts of money. During the mid 1880s, some of them, including popular black ultrarunner Frank Hart, changed out their leather running shoes for roller skates during periods of endurance rolling skate fads. Six-day foot race in Madison Square Garden While not technically ultrarunning, the emerging six-day roller skate races mirrored significantly the six-day foot races that had become the most popular spectator sport for several years in the United States. Why not put wheels on those ultrarunning feet and see what could be done?  The results were fascinating, and in 1885 the Boston Globe left behind very detailed play-by-play results that revealed what these unique races were like. How many miles could an extreme endurance athlete skate in six days on primitive rolling skates? The Ultrarunning History Podcast is included in the People Choice podcast awards in the history category. Please help me by voting for the Ultrarunning History Podcast. During July 2021, go to https://podcastawards.com to register and nominate “Ultrarunning History” in the “History” category. Thanks! Early Roller Skating Roller skating was thought to be invented as early as 1735 by John Joseph Merlin of Belgium. It was said that while showing off his new wheeled shoes at a party in London, that he crashed into a mirror.  In the early 1800s roller skates were introduced in isolated cases into the theater as an alternative to ice skating performances. In 1854 a French company performed “La Prophet” in New Orleans, Louisiana, and the entire ballet of one hundred performers appeared on roller skates. 1866 advertisement In 1863, the four-wheeled roller skate, or quad skate, was invented by James Leonard Plimpton making it possible for amateurs to participate. The first public roller rink was opened in 1866 by Plimpton in New York City, who also introduced a roller skating academy. At first, he did not mass-market his patented skate and would only let them be used in rinks with maple floors. Cities including Cincinnati, Ohio and St. Louis, Missouri, opened roller rinks. The main worries were that participants would be careless about their attire and would over-exert themselves. “It is true that roller skating is an exercise which soon throws practitioners into a furious perspiration, but it is an established fact that after a person has become even moderately skilled, and does not get excited and confused, there are hardly more perspiration and fatigue induced than are found in a gentle ramble in the shade.” There was also concern that participants would “find their feet have gone off in an unexpected radiation from a common centre.” Many thought the practice was immoral. “Does it improve a young girl’s modesty or morals to fall in a heap on a skating rink floor, in the gaze of hundreds, with perhaps her feet in the air and her clothes tossed over her head?  Is it good for her proper training to see other females in such plight?” The Six-Day Race On March 1, 1875, P. T. Barnum, of circus fame, put on the first formal six-day foot race in America, held at his Hippodrome in New York City. It was a $5,000 match race between Edward Payson Weston and Professor Judd. Weston reached 431 miles during that first American six-day race. Six-day cycling started three years later in 1878, in England, with a race between seven competitors held in the Agricultural Hall in London. It was won by W. Cann of Sheffield who reached 1,060 miles. Riders were only allowed to ride 18 hours each day. The first known six-day skating match was held from May 5-10, 1879, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, between three skaters, won by Mayer with 685 miles. Into the 1880s,

By Andy Milroy You can read, listen, or watch The forgotten man of Ultrarunning is arguably Hardy Ballington (1912-1974), lauded in 1939 in Natal, South Africa, as “the second Newton” and a “human machine”. Dominant immediately before and after the Second World War, he was awarded the prestigious Helms Trophy for his remarkable performances In England in 1937. The authoritative Lore of Running, (2003) written by Professor Tim Noakes, advocated a training programme drawn up by Hardy Ballington and his archrival and friend Bill Cochrane. The program provided daily, weekly, and monthly training goals in terms of total distance covered; it was focused on gradual progression in training but did not specify the intensity of that training. The goal was to condition the body to run the long distances required for an ultramarathon. Ballington’s training strategy was still seen as relevant 70 years later! The Ultrarunning History Podcast is included in the People Choice podcast awards in the history category. Please help me by voting for the Ultrarunning History Podcast. During July 2021, go to https://podcastawards.com to register and nominate “Ultrarunning History” in the “History” category. Thanks! Early Family Life Hardy Robert Ballington was born on the 14 July 1912, in Durban, one of the major ports in South Africa. His father was Edward William Ballington and his mother Kate Elizabeth Sims, both born in England. He was one of five brothers and two sisters, the third eldest child, one of twins. 1881 Census record from Staffordshire showing Hardy's father, Edward Ballington as a child in his family. His mother was a sergeant's wife. His father, Edward, came from a peripatetic military family, which was not uncommon during the height of the British Empire. Born in Tynemouth in the north of England in 1870, he enlisted in the North Staffordshire regiment of the army at age fourteen but must have been discharged for some reason. By 1892, at the age of 21, he was working for the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway as a shunter/switcher. Life was rough. That year he was convicted for stealing twelve table knives and two pair of carver's knives and sentenced to one month at a prison in Wakefield. A number of years later, Edward likely re-enlisted in the Army at the outbreak of the Boer War. In 1905 he was awarded the South African medal and clasp. David Ballington's birth record In South Africa he met and married an English immigrant, Kate Elizabeth Sims and in 1910 they had their first son Edward William, named after his father. Another son Basil followed in 1911, twins Hardy and Ernest Stanley followed in 1912, Jean in 1914, Doris in 1916, David in 1918 followed by John in 1920. In 1915 the whole family to that date, all four boys, travelled by ship to England, presumably to see grandparents and other relations. This was the first of Hardy’s trips to England. Edward's Death Certificate Tragedy struck the young family. In 1921 his father died prematurely in his early fifties, leaving his wife to take care of six children alone. But worse was to follow. In 1924, the 40-year-old Kate Elizabeth gave birth to her eleventh child, but complications and a heart attack caused her death. The baby died.  The six living Ballington children were orphaned. The eldest, Edward, was fourteen years old. Hardy was only eleven. Six minor children initial put in the care of the Society for Protection of Child Life in Cape Town With seemingly no relatives in South Africa, caring for eight orphaned children, with the youngest only four years old, was problematic. The six minor children were initially put in the care of the Society for Protection of Child Life in Cape Town. There was a Children’s Aid Society in Durban which could provide some financial and emotional institutional support. In 1923 an Adoption Act had been passed and the Greyville Crèche was a primary school for the care of white children ...

By Andy Milroy You can read, listen, or watch An audio podcast episode has been added to this article. Early conditioning can be very important. Wally Hayward came from a very tough background. His father, Wallace George Hayward, the son of a coal agent, had been born in Peckham in London, England in 1880, and emigrated to South Africa sometime between 1901 and 1906, in his early twenties. It looks probable he actually arrived soon after 1904 when the sand bar which had restricted Durban Harbour to bigger ships was dredged and deepened. This allowed the weekly Union Castle passenger ships from Southampton to enter the port. Bearing in mind Wallace’s later employment, and absence from Union Castle passenger lists, it is possible that he served as a barman on one of these passenger ships, departing the ship at Durban. On ultrarunninghistory.com, each article/episode takes about 30 hours of effort to research, write, script, edit, publish and publicize. Each month more there are more than 100,000 downloads of these history stories. Help is needed to continue this effort. Please consider becoming a patreon member of ultrarunning history. You can become part of the effort to preserve and document this history by signing up to contribute a few dollars each month. Visit https://ultrarunninghistory.com/member Durban, South Africa After arriving in Durban he met Cornelia Gerhardina Jacoba Kritzinger. Cornelia was the youngest of eight children of an Afrikaner farmer, Louis Kritzinger and his wife Rachel. The Kritzinger family had a 3000 acre farm in Zululand, then part of the British province of Natal (now KwaZulu-Natal). The three sons worked on the farm with their father and the women had a whole raft of household tasks to complete - baking and preserving, making and repairing clothes, sewing, knitting and cooking. The sisters took in turn to tackle each of these tasks. Cornelia Hayward Cornelia was born in 1878 but by her mid-twenties she seems to have rebelled against this demanding regime and left the farm for the city life of Durban. Perhaps the demands and deprivation of the Second Boer War had been the final straw. Cornelia got a job as a cook in a children’s home and some time in 1906/07 she met the younger Wallace Hayward. He had become a barman in a Durban hotel and the couple later lived in one of the hotel rooms. On the 10 July 1908 Wallace "Wally" Henry was born, named after his father and his grandfather, Henry Hayward. Two years later a sister Agnes was born, then two years after that a brother Horace and finally a sister Gertrude. The names chosen show a great deal about the dynamics between the couple. Basically the children were named after Wallace’s siblings. None of Cornelia’s family had a child named after them. This was in the aftermath of the Anglo-Boer War which had made such a horrendous impact on the Afrikaans. Wallace’s dominance in the naming of the children, may have been a response of a victor over the vanquished, but seems at the very least, insensitive. Johannesburg When Wally was eighteen months old, the family moved to Johannesburg. Without skills, his father found it difficult to get work, and once again wound up as a barman in a hotel. Already a heavy smoker, he began drinking heavily. The Haywards had come to Johannesburg at the prompting of one of Cornelia's sisters. The Kritzingers had been involved in the Anglo-Boer War (1899-1902). Originally from Germany, three Kritzinger brothers came to South Africa in 1820 and two of them married Dutch women. A descendant, Pieter Hendrik Kritzinger, was a Boer general and guerrilla fighter during the Second Boer War. Around 1914, when Wally was six, his father got a job working in a mine, eventually becoming a mine captain at the East Rand Propriety Mines, mining gold at Boksburg, a settlement not far from Johannesburg. Wallace Hayward In 1916 Wallace enlisted in the South African Overseas Expedi...

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Mavis Hutchison was a pioneer ultrarunner from South Africa who blazed the trail for women runners worldwide. She finished Comrades Marathon (55 miles) eight times in years when very few women ran. She had an impressive ultrarunning career that took her to many countries, and she went on to become one of the most popular women in South Africa.   Childhood Mavis Vaugn and her identical twin sister, Doreen, were born on November 24, 1924, in Kimberley, South Africa to George Phillipus Vaughan (1895-1969) and Catharina “Kitty” Barnard Vaughan (1900-1996).  The Vaughan family had lived in South Africa for multiple generations. There hometown city of Kimberley was the capital of South Africa’s Northern Cape Province and known for its diamond mines, and "the biggest manmade hole on earth." Mavis’ father. George was one of the top middle-distance runners in South Africa and a rugby player. He worked for a diamond mining company. Sadly, both twin girls had defects in their legs. Doreen had a damaged hip causing her to limp through life and Mavis had a leg that was somewhat “slow”. After contracting rhematic fever as a child, Mavis suffered from nervous breakdowns during her teens requiring hospitalization and was unable to walk or talk for a time. She had to relearn those skills and those breakdowns left her feeling fragile. While a teenager, Mavis really wanted to be a good athlete. Her father had been training girls at her school, so she joined in. She said, "I started out full of enthusiasm. I seemed to be getting nowhere fast. I told myself that if I did not have instant success I would never get there. I found excuses to give up. I believe my dad was disappointed, but he never forced me. I restarted a few times but ended the same each time a failure." Mavis and her mother in 1980 Because of her poor health, her schooling suffered, and she never graduated from high school. World War II arrived, and she worked at the government mint in her hometown making tools for the manufacture of weapons. She wanted to join the Army, but her father would not give consent. He gave her good advice and always emphasized that she needed to be nice to others but should also stand up for herself. He wanted her to work hard but take time to smell the roses.  Of her mother, she said, “My mom was a very private person, but some things did rub off and what rubbed off on me most was about going the extra mile, working hard, being not just a starter but a finisher, and being there for one another.” Troubled Marriage Mavis sought for more independence and when she was twenty-two, she married a man who turned out to be a heavy drinker bringing misery and abuse into her life. In 1947 she gave birth to twin boys prematurely and one only lived a day. The other son, Jess, was severely disfigured and underwent many operations. At the age of twenty-four she was worn out mentally and physically, feeling like an old woman. Her husband deserted her by the time she gave birth to another son, Alan, in 1949. She divorced in 1951 and started a new life with her two little boys. After working as a saleslady in Kimberley, she moved to Johannesburg working first for an art dealer and later for record companies. Her family nanny for the past 25 years came along with her and helped raise the boys. New Life Mavis and Ernie in 1955 A few years after moving to Johannesburg, Mavis met and married Ernest “Ernie” John Hutchison (1916-1991) who was a miner. He was a quiet man, but a great stabilizing influence on her and always supportive. After a short courtship they married in 1955. Ernie had two children of his own and adopted Mavis’ sons. Two more daughters arrived, making up a “yours, mine and ours” family of six children. In 1960, Hutchison’s boys, Jess and Allan got involved in the latest new fad, racewalking. She and Ernie watched them train and compete.

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Jackie Mekler from South Africa was perhaps the greatest ultrarunner in the world during the late 1950s and early 1960s and was a five-time winner of the Comrades Marathon (54 miles). His path to greatness is particularly inspiring because as a boy in an orphanage, he became a self-taught runner. He was boosted by fierce self-determination that grew out of his lonely and harsh childhood experience. The Comrades Marathon held in South Africa is the world’s largest and oldest ultramarathon race that is still held today with fields that have topped 23,000 runners. The year 2021, marked the 100th anniversary of Comrades Marathon. Help is needed to continue the Ultrarunning History Podcast and website. Please consider becoming a patreon member of ultrarunning history. Help to preserve this history by signing up to contribute a few dollars each month. Visit https://ultrarunninghistory.com/member This episode on Jackie Mekler is the sixth part of a series honoring Comrades and South African ultrarunning. 80: Comrades Marathon – 100 years old 59: Arthur Newton 83: Hardy Ballington – The Forgotten Great Ultrarunner 84: Wally Hayward (1908-2006) – South African Legend 85: Mavis Hutchison – Galloping Granny 86: Jackie Mekler - Comrades Legend This episode is largely based on Jackie Mekler's autobiography Running Alone: The autobiography of long-distance runner Jackie Mekler where you can read far more details about his running career. Childhood  Jakie's mother with sister Hannah Jack “Jackie” Mekler was born March 4, 1932, in Johannesburg, South Africa. His parents, Mike and Sonia Mekler emigrated to South Africa from Eastern Europe in the 1920s with little more than the clothing on their backs. His father had studied to become a dental mechanic but was unable to find employment and the young couple struggled to survive financially. Children were born, first Hannah and then Jackie. Bertrams suburb of Johannesburg in 1930s The Meklers first lived in a large room with family friends in Bertrams, a Johannesburg suburb, A few years later, there were able to afford buying a fairly new home nearby. Sadly, Jackie’s mother, a nurse, developed Parkinson’s disease that crippled her requiring the young children to care for her. His father worked long hours selling fruit from the back of a horse-drawn cart trying to support the young family. Jackie wrote, “Physically, I was always small and underweight for my age – facts that caused my parents considerable concern in my preschool years. I remember regular visits to the local hospital, where I was put on innumerable courses of ‘pink pills’ and tonics.” Jackie’s obsessive personality started to show through when as a child he would spend hours kicking a soccer ball against a wall, humming a tune about soccer boots. In the summer months he would rush home from school and loved to go off to the local municipal baths at Ellis Park to swim. Life at an Orphanage When red-headed Jackie was nine years old, his mother became so ill that she needed to be sent to a nursing home. His father just couldn’t deal with raising children and also working long hours, so he decided to send Jackie and Hannah to live at the Arcadia orphanage. Jackie came home from school one day to find a large black sedan parked in front of their house waiting to take them to the orphanage. The two children cried and argued with their father, who bribed them with a half a crown each if they agreed to go. They no choice and moved into the orphanage.  A couple weeks later their father visited with news that their mother had died. Arcadia Orphanage Arcadia was a Jewish orphanage that was established at a villa in 1923. Jackie Mekler was required to participate in Jewish rituals and rules which was a major adjustment for him.  There were about 300 children who lived in large dormitories,

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch The Old Dominion 100, established in 1979, was held in Virginia along the beautiful Shenandoah River. It was one of the first classic modern-era American trail 100-milers. Today, few ultrarunners have even heard about this race. Old Dominion 100’s origin story is similar to Western States 100. It also emerged from the horse endurance riding sport. The Old Dominion 100-mile Run patterned its practices from Western States, established two years earlier in 1977. Old Dominion 100 gave East Coast ultrarunners a trail 100-miler on their side of the country. Western States 100 claims it is the “world's oldest 100-mile trail race” (still being held), but technically Old Dominion 100 has legitimate rights to that claim because in those early years Western States was actually only 89 miles. Help is needed to continue the Ultrarunning History Podcast and website. Please consider becoming a patreon member of ultrarunning history. Help to preserve this history by signing up to contribute a few dollars each month. Visit https://ultrarunninghistory.com/member Alex Bigler Governor John Bigler Alexander Bowman Bigler Jr. was born Jun 8, 1935, in Merced, California. He played an important part in the history of Old Dominion 100.  He came from a very prominent California family. His great-grandfather, John Bigler, was California’s third governor. Lake Tahoe was almost named Lake Bigler. His grandfather, Alexander B. Bigler was an attorney and superior court judge in Santa Barbara County for many years. His father, Dr. Alexander B. Bigler (1904-1968) was a medical doctor and a civic leader in Madero County, California and had a keen interest in California history. Bigler grew up in Northern California and went to Chowchilla Union High School during the early 1950s. He then attended Stanford University and lived in Redwood City where his first wife taught school. Bigler had a love for horseback riding. In 1960 he was president of the Auburn Sierra Rangers, a horseman’s club that was organized in 1946 to further the interest in riding, breeding better horses, and putting on showmanship and recreation events.  Bigler became a close friend to Wendell Robie, the founder of the Western States Trail Ride (Tevis Cup) that in 1955 started to be held on the trail from Lake Tahoe to Auburn. Bigler became a big supporter of horse endurance rides. By 1961, public opinion came out against the Tevis Cup and its effect on horses, backed by the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. A few horses had died during the rides. Bigler, living in Auburn, vigorously defended the horse endurance event. He wrote, “To participate in this event, riders and horses must be in excellent condition. Both must be well-trained which is accomplished only through months of rigorous training. In proper training, the rider comes to know this horse and its capabilities and therefore will not drive it beyond its limit. This event is well-organized and veterinarians are located at check points to watch for overly exhausted horses. In my opinion this ride is an outstanding event in terms of both pleasure and a sporting activity and is contributing much to our knowledge and history of the horse.” In 1966 and 1967, Bigler rode in the Western States Trail Ride on a thoroughbred, Joaquin, and finished well, in 16:46 and 17:12. During the early 1970s he served as a member of the Board of Directors for the Western States Trail Ride. Old Dominion 100 Mile Ride By 1973, Bigler and his wife Ila moved to Northern Virginia, where he took a job that was involved in planning for equestrian facilities. He brought with him a desire to organize a ride similar to the Western States Trail Ride. He gathered together a small group of enthusiastic endurance riders to organize an event. A non-profit organization was incorporated under the name “Old Dominion 100 Mile Endurance Ride” with sev...

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Get this history in my new book Spartathlon is one of the most prestigious ultramarathons in the world. It is a race of about 246 km (153 miles), that takes place each September in Greece, running from Athens to Sparta on a highly significant route in world history. It attracts many of the greatest ultrarunners in the world. This is part one of a series on the history of Spartathlon. In this episode, we will cover how Spartathlon was born, a story that has never been fully told until now. It was the brainchild of an officer in the Royal Air Force, John Foden. Pheidippides’ Historic Run Battle of Marathon In 490 B.C., one of the most famous battles in world history was held between the Athenians and the Persians who invaded what we now call Greece, landing at Marathon. Before that battle, a professional messenger named Pheidippides was sent by Athenian generals to Sparta, with an urgent message to ask for reinforcements against the much larger Persian incursion. Pheidippides ran an estimated 250 kms (155 miles) and arrived at Sparta on the next day, likely about 36 hours, and then returned walking. There are many versions of this story. Some say his run was before the battle and others say after. One Romon version, more than a centry later, states that he ran back and he died on returning. But the important thing about the story for ultrarunning, is that Pheidippides made an ultra-distance run of about 155 miles in less than two days. If it were from dawn to dusk of the second day, that would have been 36 hours. The Spartan reinforcements did not immediately leave to help because of a festival and arrived too late for the Battle of Marathon, but the Athenians had triumphed over the more numerous Persians. People have wondered for years if the tale of Pheidippides could be true, running that difficult long distance across the rugged land in less than two days. John Foden His father James Foden John Boyd Foden (1926-2016) was born on May 7, 1926, in Winchester, Australia. His parents, also Australian, were James Clement Foden (1894-1978) and Rosalind Ida Boyd (1888-1957) of Scottish ancestry. The Fodens had lived in Australia for generations. John's father, James, was an aviator who learned to fly a biplane in Hendon, England, in 1917. James served during World War I in the Royal Flying Corps and was awarded the Air Force Cross. In 1924 he was promoted to a Flight Lieutenant. He made his career in the Royal Air Force and he retired a Group Captain. His love for aviation and the Royal Air Force was passed down to his son John. 1933 Ship passenger list Over the years, the Foden family would make multiple long sea voyages to Great Britain to visit family in England and Scotland. At the age of seven, John travelled to and from England by steam ship with his mother, his three-year-old sister, Pauline Margaret Foden, and his uncle, James Shields Boyd. Foden served in World War II as a paratrooper for Australia and after the war went to England. In 1948, at the age of 22, he married Vera Joan Colyer (1926-2001) of England. He later became a career officer in the Royal Air Force (RAF). In 1952, they had a son, David Michael Foden. Foden Takes Up Running The years passed and Foden continued his career in the RAF. By 1976, at the age of 49, he had taken up running. He belonged to the Veterans Athletic Club. In 1977, Foden ran in his first marathon. At that time, he was working as a flight instructor. He was assigned to teach cadets on various topics, including first aid, map reading, aircraft, and RAF knowledge. Herodotus In 1978, Foden was studying for an advanced degree at a university. As part of an assignment, he read about the story of Pheidippides’ run from Athens to Sparta as recorded by Greek historian Herodotus. He read in that history, “Pheidippides was sent by the Athenian generals, and,

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Get this history in my new book Spartathlon, an ultra of 246 km (153 miles), takes place each September in Greece, running from Athens to Sparta and with its 36-hour cutoff. It is one of the toughest ultramarathons to finish. In Part 1 of this series, episode 88, the story was told how Spartathlon was born in 1982, the brainchild of an officer in the Royal Air Force, John Foden. Three servicemen successfully covered a route that was believed to have been taken in 490 B.C., by the Greek messenger, Pheidippides. The 1982 trial run set the stage for the establishment of the Spartathlon race. The race's 1983 inaugural year is covered in this part won by Yiannis Kouros of Greece. There are now ten books in the Ultrarunning History series by Davy Crockett, available on Amazon.  https://ultrarunninghistory.com/urhseries/   The Founding of Spartathlon in 1983 The Three Finishers. After John Foden and two others finished the historic 1982 trial run between Athens and Sparta, Foden told those at the finish, “You need to make the route we have run, a race.” However, he did not think seriously that a race would be organized anytime soon.  Michael Graham Callaghan (1945-2013), an Athens businessman, and a member of the British Hellenic Chamber of Commerce (BHCC) in Greece was the driving force and the founder of the formal Spartathon race. Back in 1982, Callaghan had helped Foden organize his trial run and obtained sponsors.  Callaghan was at the finish in Sparta and awarded the three finishers crowns of olive leaves. A month later, Callaghan received a kind letter from Air Marshal Thomas Kennedy from the Royal Air Force (RAF) in Germany, thanking him for his support of Foden’s 1982 RAF expedition run from Athens to Sparta. The letter included, “John Foden has told me about the invaluable help you gave the expedition when it found itself in financial straits that made its abandonment seem certain, and also in revamping its low-key publicity into a campaign that achieved international TV and press coverage. I should like to thank you most sincerely for your interest and your enterprise which prevented the possible cancellation of the expedition, and your initiative in recognizing that its success could be used to reinforce the friendly relations that exist between Great Britain and Greece. We are all very much in your debt.” This kind letter further helped Callaghan become captivated with the idea for a race and he charged ahead to make it happen. Plans for Spartathlon come together Just four months after the historic 1982 RAF expedition, in February 1983, the Hellenic Amateur Athletics Association (SEGAS) announced that Spartathlon would be held on September 30, 1983. The name for the race combined the Greek words for Sparta and Feat. Officially that first year it was called, the “Open International Spartathlon Race.” A multi-national team of supporters came together led by Callaghan and was based at the British Hellenic Chamber of Commerce in Athens. Under Greek law, Callaghan was not allowed to be the actual president of the organization, but he was the first race organizer. Foden said, “My idea to have a race would never have taken off if were not for Callaghan’s energy, enthusiasm and talents as a salesman. At the start he might not have known much about running and relied on the advice I gave him during visits to Greece, but he soon became very knowledgeable.” A group of Athens-based British businessmen were signed up to be the main sponsors for the 1983 race. Entrants Forty-four men and one woman from twelve countries were entered into the first Spartathlon. They arrived in Athens four days before the race, on September 26, 1983, and took a two-day bus ride to preview the course and sight-see. At Sparta they were honored by the Mayor of Sparta at a taverna dinner. Returning back to Athens,

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Get this history in my new book In 1963, President John F. Kennedy unintentionally played a role that provided the spark to ignite interest for ultrarunning both in America and elsewhere. The door was flung open for all who wanted to challenge themselves.  An unexpected 50-mile frenzy swept across America like a raging fire that dominated the newspapers for weeks. Tens of thousands of people attempted to hike 50 miles, both the old and the very young. Virtually unnoticed was a small club 50-mile event hiked by high school boys in Maryland, that eventually became America's oldest ultra: The JFK 50, founded by Buzz Sawyer. Kennedy's Push for Physical Fitness While running for president, Kennedy had campaigned with a goal to improve the nation’s physical health, and once in office he made that a priority. He feared that the future generations would be spectators of sport rather than participants on the field of play because of their lack of physical fitness. In 1961 a “Fit as a Fiddle” newsreel was produced by Kennedy’s Physical Fitness Program targeting youth to understand the importance of physical fitness. Also, that year, 200,000 copies of a song called “Chicken Fat” was distributed to all schools with the lyrics, “Nuts to the flabby guys! Go, you chicken fat, go away!” Fitness Test for Marines General David M. Shoup Back in 1908, President Theodore Roosevelt issued an executive order that every Marine captain and lieutenant should be able to hike 50 miles in 20 hours. In 1962 Kennedy discovered this order and asked his Marine Commandant, David M. Shoup (1904-1983), to find out how well his present-day officers could do with the 50-mile test. Shoup made it an order to his Marines. Twenty Marine officers were selected to take the test in mid-February 1963, at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. News Article Starts the Frenzy An Associated Press article published nationwide on February 5, 1963, shared the story of the 50-mile test. It received intense national attention. President Kennedy never directly challenged the American public to take the 50-mile challenge, but the article inspired many across the country, who were eager to test themselves too. The Public Starts Hiking 50 Miles Naïve, untrained, civilians, immediately decided to hit the road without much planning to undertake the challenge in the middle of the cold winter. On the very evening after the article was published, Lt. Colonel James W. Tuma, age 48 (1914-1990) from Michigan, stationed at Fort Huachuca, near Tucson, Arizona, immediately decided to start a 50-mile hike through the Sonoran desert. You would think, Tuma, who held a Ph.D. in physical education, would have more sense, but away he went. He hiked through the night, not sleeping. He said, "Everybody was nice along the way, wanting to give me a ride." The next morning, he finished his 50 miles with a sprint for a time of 13.5 hours and was credited as the very first one to finish 50-miles at the start of the nation-wide craze. Robert F. Kennedy's 50-mile Hike On February 9th, four days after the story went public, Attorney General Robert F Kennedy decided to take the challenge himself and hike 50 miles. Without any specific training, Kennedy hiked away on the Chesapeake and Ohio (C&O) Canal towpath (the future home of the JFK 50) with his dog Brumis and some aids. After his 50-mile hike, Ethel Kennedy helps RFK recover. After 25 miles, the group was ready to give up. But the press had caught wind of what Kennedy was doing, and a helicopter arrived soon after with photographers and journalists. So, Kennedy set off again. His last aide dropped out by 35 miles, but Kennedy pushed on to the end and reached 50 miles in 17:50, accomplished in a pair of leather Oxford dress shoes. Everyday People Hike Hundreds of 50-mile challenges were held all over America and throughout the world.

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Recently, the six-day race received some attention in ultrarunning news because the International Association of Ultrarunners (IAU) announced that they would no longer recognize the six-day event or keep records for it. This shocked many ultrarunning historians and particularly runners who participate in multi-day fixed-time races.  After a brief uproar, the new IAU leadership back-peddled, somewhat admitted to their ignorance about six-day ultrarunning history and agreed to continue to recognize the event that has roots in the sport going back nearly 250 years. Ultrarunners who exclusively run trails may wonder, “what is this six-day race and why is it important?”  The six-day race is an event to see how far you can run or walk in a period of 144 hours or six days on roads, tracks, or trails. Six days was a historic time limit established to avoid competing on Sundays, respecting local laws of the time and the religious beliefs of many of the participants. Help is needed to continue the Ultrarunning History Podcast and website. Please consider becoming a patron of ultrarunning history. Help to preserve this history by signing up to contribute a few dollars each month through Patreon. Visit https://ultrarunninghistory.com/member Six-Day Background Today, the six-day world record is held by Yiannis Kouros of Greece, who covered an astonishing distance of 635 miles on a track in New York City in 1984. Later in 1988, he covered 639 miles on a paved loop course at Flushing Meadows, also in New York. Historically, the six-day race grew out of solo six-day challenges, motivated by significant wagers and fame. They were first accomplished by ultra-distance walker/runners referred to as “pedestrians” who covering staggering distances during the late 1700s. Recent research has discovered that there were far more athletes than previously known, who took up the six-day challenge in the early 1800s. These occurred exclusively in Britain. Their grueling runs/walks were accomplished outdoors on dirt and muddy roads/trails, frequently in harsh weather conditions. In the late 1800s, as attention was revived for these six-day solo accomplishments, egos and greed of participants and organizers also grew. The six-day challenges evolved into competitions in America between multiple walkers, and the six-day races were born, attracting thousands of spectators. It became the most popular spectator sport in America for more than a decade. How did the six-day challenge begin?  Here is the story. Foster Powell, the Father of the Six-Day Race Long before the six-day races began in the late 1800s, there were numerous six-day walking feats that have been mostly lost in history. The first famous British “pedestrian,” Foster Powell (1734-1793) started the focus on walking/running for six days and can be considered the “Father of the Six-Day Race.” Foster Powell was born in 1734, in the small village of Horsforth, Yorkshire, England, near the city of Leeds. His father was William Powell, a prominent farmer. When Foster Powell was 28, in 1762, he moved to London to work as a law clerk for a “temple lawyer” at an inn. There were a group of inns in London called the “Inns of Court” attached to Churches, used as offices for clerks and lawyers. These inns consisted of sections called the Inner Temple and Middle Temple. In 1766, Powel moved, and went to work for his uncle at New Inn (next to Clements Inn), another inn for clerks and lawyers. He worked and lived there for the rest of his life. Powell worked hard but was the object of ridicule by his fellow clerks who regarded him as “a milksop and a muff.” He was described as “a cadaverous-looking young fellow, thin and apparently weak. He was thought very little of, either in respect of his mental or physical qualities.” He was “a quiet inoffensive lad, shy, and somewhat unsocial,

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch The six-day race became the most popular ultrarunning (pedestrian) event of the 19th century. In Part 1 of this series, Foster Powell started it all in 1773 when he ran 400 miles in six days in England. During the next fifty years, ultrarunners tried to match and beat his historic effort, especially during a four-year six-day frenzy of 1822-25. But after that, interest faded for the next fifty years until American, Edward Payson Weston came onto the pedestrian stage. Reaching the 1870s, the six-day challenge had not yet been exported outside Britain. But that changed as the challenge reached America and moved almost exclusively indoors, thanks to Weston. He became the most famous pedestrian in history. Weston was introduced in episode 54 for his impact on 100-mile history and in episode 26 for his famed transcontinental walk. Now we will examine his early impact of importing the six-day event to America, trying to reach 400 and 500 miles. Help is needed to continue the Ultrarunning History Podcast and website. Please consider becoming a patron of ultrarunning history. Help to preserve this history by signing up to contribute a few dollars each month through Patreon. Visit https://ultrarunninghistory.com/member Edward Payson Weston Edward Payson Weston (1839-1929) was born in Providence, Rhode Island on March 15, 1839. He was not particularly strong as a boy and took up walking to improve his health with exercise. As a teenager, he worked for a time in traveling circuses. He was athletic and won prizes in “wrestling, running, walking and leaping competitions.” He started long-distance walking by selling a book written by his mother door to door for 40 miles in Connecticut. When he was 22, after losing a bet, he walked from Boston to Washington to witness the inauguration of President Abraham Lincoln, covering 453 miles in about 208 hours. In 1867, he walked from Portland, Maine to Chicago, about 1,200 miles, in about 26 days, resting on Sundays. That walk brought him worldwide fame. But later he also received criticism as he failed in some wagered walking attempts, and he was called a “humbug” by many. Weston's Fame Grows Weston walking 100 miles In April 1870, Weston walked 100 miles in 21:38:20 in New York City, an accomplishment that silenced many critics. (For more about his early walking career, see episode 54.) During 1870, Weston came up with the idea to attempt to walk 400 miles in five days, as pedestrians fifty years earlier were trying to do. Had Weston, in 1870, heard about Foster Powell’s historic runs? In July 1870, British newspapers were announcing that Weston was coming to England in August to make his attempt, so it is likely that he understood some of the British pedestrian history involving six-day running. Weston did not travel to England in 1870 because he could not find enough financial backing but said he would make his attempt in America during the fall. Did Weston truly walk? His distinctive wobbly walking gait was a swinging stride, with a relaxed upper body and shoulders without pumping his arms. The action came mostly from his knees. Starting in the 1840s, a “fair heel-and-toe” racewalking style was established for walking in competitions. Weston was criticized by some of not using a true heel-toe racewalk, that it border-lined on running at times, with both feet off the ground at the same time. Weston’s First Multi-Day Attempt - 1870 During November 1870, Weston made his attempt to reach 400 miles within six days, and he was confident that he could actually do it within five days. He may have thought that no one had accomplished it before, and he would set a record. (James Tenny, in 1822. had reached 400 miles in four days, 23 hours, 22 minutes.) Weston’s $5,000 wager agreement required him to reach 400 miles in five days, and he also needed to walk 112 miles within a 24-hour period ...

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Congratulations to Eric Clifton, originally from North Carolina, now of California, who was inducted into the American Ultrarunning Hall of Fame on November 19, 2021.  Clifton was the fastest and most dominating 100-mile trail runner during the 1990s as trail ultras became popular in America. His “go for broke” race strategy was legendary, as he demonstrated to the rapidly expanding sport that amazing speed on trails could be achieved. During his entire career, he has attained more than 60 ultra wins, including 17 of his 31 100-mile finishes. He was known for his colorful running tights and was the original “Jester” of ultrarunning. During the 1990s, Clifton had the most overall 100-mile trail wins in the world. He was a prolific ultrarunner and very fast, with more sub-15-hour 100-mile finishes on trails than anyone during that era. He would win by wide margins on hilly trail courses, sometimes by hours. He set more than 20 course records, still holding some of them after three decades. Help is needed to continue the Ultrarunning History Podcast and website. Please consider becoming a patron of ultrarunning history. Help to preserve this history by signing up to contribute a few dollars each month through Patreon. Visit https://ultrarunninghistory.com/member Eric Clifton was born in 1958, Albuquerque, New Mexico but moved to North Carolina when he was young where his father went into the milk business.  Eric started distance running as a senior at Northeast Guilford High School in 1976, in North Carolina, where he ran the two-miler. After finished his first race, he swore to himself that he would never run that hard, and that fast for the rest of his life. A friend suggested that he go out for cross-country. Clifton said, “Running cross-country? That sounds like me, I want to do that. I asked, ‘How many miles a day do you guys run?’ He replied, “About ten miles a day.’ OK, I’m out. He scared me away.” Little did Clifton know that he would average running 10 miles a day for much of his future running career. Serious Running Begins Clifton in 1978 in Greensboro, NC Clifton went to college at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro, where running teams were not fielded. The running boom had not yet reached North Carolina. But in 1977, he started his true running career. As a college freshman, he read an article in the school newspaper about a professor who would be running in the Boston Marathon. He recalled, “I read this article and I was amazed. Wait a minute, there are races that are competitive events for people who aren’t in school doing track or cross-country? It blew my mind.” Within a week he entered his first race, a seven-miler. He had a blast and was hooked on running after that. Running at Boston became his primary goal. At the time, the qualifying standard for him was 2:50. He ran his first marathon in 3:38. As he kept trying, his finish times went up instead of down. It took him three years before his times dramatically improved. “I finally had a race where I didn’t die. I ran strongly the entire way and did a 2:39. And everybody asked, ‘What did you do?’ I replied, 'It was what I didn’t do, I didn’t die.'” But by the time he qualified for Boston, he had lost interest and did not run there until many years later. Triathlons 1981 First Triathlon Win In 1980, Clifton watched the Ironman on television in its third year and knew that the event was for him. During the ‘80s, Clifton shifted away from running marathons, turned to triathlons and excelled. He ran his first of several Ironmans in 1981. First Ultra - 1982 In 1982, Clifton ran in his first ultra, a 50-mile road race in Wilmington, North Carolina, called “The Lite Ultra” that ran on a four-mile loop. Don Aycock, age 30, originally from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, one of Clifton’s training partners, had subscribed to Ultrarunning Magazine.

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch The ultimate showman, P.T. Barnum of circus fame, was surprisingly the first serious ultrarunning promoter and established the first six-day race in America. He was famous for the saying “There’s a sucker is born every minute,” and figured out how to get America to come out by the thousands to watch skinny guys walk, run and suffer around a small indoor track for hours and days as part of his “Greatest Show on Earth” presented in the heart of New York City. In this episode, details of Barnum’s connection to ultrarunning history are told for the first time. In part one of this six-day series, Foster Powell started it all in 1773 in England, seeking to reach 400 miles in less than six days. In part two, nearly a century later, the challenge was restored in America with the famous walker Edward Payson Weston, who was both cheered and ridiculed. As this third part opens, Weston seeks more than anything to reach 500 miles in six days, which had never been accomplished before. He had failed in his first serious attempt, reaching “only” 430 miles and was called by some, “The Great American Fizzler.” P.T. Barnum soon enters the story to lend support. Help is needed to continue the Ultrarunning History Podcast, website, and Hall of Fame. Please consider becoming a patron of ultrarunning history. Help to preserve this history by signing up to contribute a few dollars each month through Patreon. Visit https://ultrarunninghistory.com/member Edward Mullen Seeks 500 Miles in Six Days Weston's failure to reach 500 miles spurred others to give it try, even those with little experience, in an attempt to cash in on wagers. A key figure in this history, Edward Mullen, of Boston, Massachusetts, came on the stage in 1874 to try to steal the spotlight from Weston. Mullen was a talented ten-mile walker, but unproven at ultra-distances. His "500 miles in six days" attempt came at the Washington Riding Academy at 26th Street and 6th Ave in New York City. Beacon Trotting Park It was reported, “Mullen has never, previous to the present time, engaged in any walking match for any long distance, the longest race hitherto being twelve miles.”  Mullen began his pedestrian career only a year earlier in July 1873 at Beacon Trotting Park, Boston, when he won a short-distance walking race. That was the first of many impressive wins up to ten miles. But it seemed rather bold for him to go after the 500-mile six-day barrier. The track for his attempt was said to be 17.3 laps to a mile (305 feet). He began his quest at 12:24 a.m. on June 15, 1874. “Mullen was dressed in full walking costume, consisting of white Guernsey, blue silk trunks and white hose, with Oxford shoes. He is somewhat slimly built, is about five feet ten inches high and weighs 130 pounds. As he turned to commence his journey, he started off somewhat slowly, his step, however, being elastic and springy.” He finished his first mile, in a very surprisingly fast time of 7:22. On day one, he accomplished the 115-mile 24-hours task, beating Weston's 115-mile time by five minutes. At that point he collapsed and had to be carried off the track by his backers. By day three, the determined Mullen had reached 233 miles on very swollen legs, one mile ahead of Weston's failed pace. Fraud Detected On day four, an observant New York Daily Herald reporter suspected that a "trick" was taking place as he counted Mullen's paces per lap. "The Herald reporter watched for some hours and finally concluded that the pace at which Mullen was walking did not agree with the time announced. This aroused a suspicion that there was something wrong with the track and that the walk was not an honest one."  He also noticed that Mullen was taking rests more than twice as long as Weston had during his walk, and yet Mullen kept pace somehow. Also odd, Mullen’s respiration was very labored after walking a stretch of only a few mi...

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch P.T. Barnum featured ultrarunners (pedestrians) in 1874 who were attempting to reach 500 miles in six days, to bring paying patrons into his massive indoor Hippodrome in New York City 24-hours a day. Even though the first attempts by Edward Payson Weston and Edward Mullen came up short (see part 3), America became fascinated by these very unusual efforts of extreme endurance. New York Life Building, where the Hippodrome once stood. But with the failures, critics cried out that it was all just a money grab on the gullible public. It wasn’t a true race. It was said to be similar to watching “a single patient horse attached to a rural cider-press” going in circles for six days until it dropped. Experienced athletes and educated doctors believed that walking or running 500 miles in six days was an impossible feat. P.T. Barnum, “a sucker is born every minute,” did not care what the critics thought, knowing he had a winning spectacle to spotlight. He was right and would put on the first six-day race in history, billed as "the greatest competitive trial of endurance ever attempted." Help is needed to support the Ultrarunning History Podcast, website, and Hall of Fame. Please consider becoming a patron of ultrarunning history. Help to preserve this history by signing up to contribute a few dollars each month through Patreon. Visit https://ultrarunninghistory.com/member P.T. Barnum promotes Professor Judd’s Six-Day Attempt By December 1874, Barnum’s circus was back in full operation in New York in the Hippodrome for the winter season. It was lit by many lanterns, featured chariot races, and presented a menagerie of 600 “wild beasts.” Barnum turned to a walker other than Weston and hosted “Professor” John R. Judd (1836-1911) at the Hippodrome. Judd had been a gym owner and trainer from Buffalo, New York but recently had moved to New York City. He had gained some fame training boxers and pedestrians and had previously issued a challenge for a walking match against Edward Payson Weston, which was ignored. Judd's former hometown wrote, “Judd is excessively muscular. His ‘professorship’ being not anything in the line of learning but simply that of gymnastics.” Another observer wrote, “He is a splendidly formed man, but with a figure better fitted for boxing or wrestling than for walking. He moves heavily and ploddingly, and on account of his great muscular development, he is obliged to keep his whole body in constant motion. He has great powers of endurance but is a slow walker.” Judd’s true background was suspect. He had been born in England and became very athletic. He claimed to have become a professor of Physical Culture, and trained the Prince of Wales and other royalty. In reality, as noted by those in Buffalo, New York, he was just a gym owner and trainer who liked to do exhibitions of feats of strength. His pedestrian experience was limited. Once he walked 105 miles in four days and claimed to have accomplished other long walks under an alias of John Davison. In 1871, there was a Pedestrian by that name that attempted to walk four days without eating or sleeping at Littlerock Arkansas City Hall. Judd had been announcing that he would do a six and a half day walk in the Empire Skating Rink in New York City. Barnum hired him to instead do it in the Hippodrome. The track was measured carefully the week before the event where Judd put on a five-mile exhibition walk, including walking backwards while carrying an anvil. On December 8, 1874, Judd started his attempt  but was said to have made very poor progress on day one.  Judd believed in holding a steady pace and could succeed if he walked 77 miles a day. His plans were different than those who tried before him. “He will carry a 100-pound anvil for a quarter of a mile on the fifth and six days and half a mile on the last half day.”  On day four he had reached 224 miles when he stoppe...

By Davy Crockett The Across the Years race, established in 1983, is one of the oldest fixed-time races in the world that is still held annually. The race is always held at the end of the year, crossing over to the new year with a grand celebration. Through the years, it has attracted many of the greatest fixed-time ultrarunners in the world and still today is the premier and largest fixed-time race in America. Over its impressive history, about 2,500 runners have logged more than 500,000 miles at Across the Years. It all started in 1983, the brainchild of Harold Sieglaff, of Phoenix, Arizona.  This episode is a tribute to Sieglaff and the other pioneer ultrarunners who were the first to run this famed ultra. This history and the histories of eight other classic races are contained in my new book, Classic Ultramarathon Beginnings, available on Amazon. For fixed-time ultramarathons, instead of competing at a fixed distance like 50 miles or 100 miles, the competition involves running the furthest you can in a fixed time. Fixed-time races have existed for centuries, with the first known 24-hour race in 1806, held in England. In the modern post-war era of ultrarunning, the first 24-hour race in America was the 1964 Last Day Run held indoors at the Los Angeles Athletic Club in downtown Los Angeles. 1983 – A Revolutionary Year The year 1983 was called a “revolutionary year” because 24 hours, 48 hours, and 6-day races that ran in circles started to pop up all over the world. More than fifty fixed-time events were held that year (thirty-one in America) compared to just eighteen 100-mile races held worldwide. How many of those early fixed-time races still exist? Of the fixed-time races held in America during 1983, Across the Years is one of only three that still exists. Cornbelt Running Club 24 Hour race held in Eldridge, Iowa is the oldest, first held in May 1982. The second oldest fixed-time race is Across the Years held in Arizona, that started in April 1983. Badgerland F/X 24 Hour race, held in Wisconsin, is the third oldest, first held in September 1983. Many 1980s ultrarunners felt that this race format was “loopy.” One runner wrote that he believed these events were “reserved for masochists” that they “degenerate into a scene with the majority of the competitors parading ghost-like and crippled around the track for what probably seems to be an eternity. Maybe that’s where St. Peter sends bad ultrarunners.” But most of those who have taken part in these races, especially at Across the Years, know the truth, that it can be an amazing experience, especially because you are always in contact with the other runners who you can get to know well. Best 24-hour Achievements by 1983 Dave Dowdle after setting 24 hour world record in 1982 What were the best 24-hour performances as of 1983? The world best for 24-hours at that time was 170 miles, 974 yards on the track, held by Dave Dowdle (1954-) of Great Britain, and 170 miles, 1,231 yards on the road, held by Bernard Gaudin (1949-2010) of France. The American best of 162 miles (which wasn’t ratified for technical reasons) was set in 1979 by Park Barner (1944-) at Huntington Beach, California. The ratified American record was held by Bernd Heinrich (1940-) of Vermont, who ran 156 miles in 1983 at Rowdy 24-Hours on a track at Brunswick, Maine. Harold Sieglaff – Across the Years Founder Harold Paul Sieglaff (1934-2015) was the founder of Across the Years. He was from Phoenix, Arizona in 1983 when he started it. Harold was born in Canton, South Dakota in 1934, and experienced a very unusual upbringing because his parents were away for much of his childhood in Africa. Harold and Thelma Sieglaff in 1943 He was the son of Reverend Harold Elmer Sieglaff (1904-1983) and Thelma Savereide Sieglaff (1907-2001). They were from Iowa and South Dakota. Harold Sr. was educated to become a teacher and received a master’s degree from the University of...

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Daniel O'Leary By March 1875, Edward Payson Weston, from New York City, was on top of the ultrarunning world (called Pedestrianism). He had just won the first six-day race in history, was the only person who had ever walked 500 miles in six days and held the 24-hour world walking record of 115 miles. Through his efforts and the promotion of P.T. Barnum, the sport had been given a rebirth and was on the front pages of newspapers across America. Weston had won hundreds of thousands of dollars in today’s value for his exploits and obviously others wanted a piece of this action too. Was Weston one of a kind, or would others succeed in dethroning him? A true rival did emerge from Chicago, an Irishman who worked hard to try to become the best, Daniel O’Leary. Please consider becoming a patron of ultrarunning history. Help to preserve this history by signing up to contribute a few dollars each month through Patreon. Visit https://ultrarunninghistory.com/member Others Try to be Six-Day Kings After his victory in the first six-day race in history, held in P.T. Barnum’s New York City Hippodrome, Weston had established himself as the undisputed six-day king. Others attempted to match Weston’s 500-mile six-day accomplishment achieved in New Jersey, in December 1874. The press still could not resist taking a poke at Weston. “Samuel Williamson of Milwaukee imitated Weston’s attempts to walk 500 miles in six days, and the imitation was so successful that he failed ridiculously.” In April 1875, Allen Brown claimed to walk 500 miles in six days in Nashville, “the first pedestrian who has accomplished the feat without a charge of trickery.” It is very unlikely that this was legitimate. Brown was unknown and was never again mentioned in connection with Pedestrianism. Brown was just a pretender, but a true contender immerged in Chicago, Illinois. Daniel O’Leary Daniel O’Leary (1846-1933) was born in Carrigroe, Clonakilty, Ireland and as a child lived through terrible years of potato blight, causing horrible starvation and disease. It was said that he began walking very early in life, jumped out of the cradle early, and walked three miles in under an hour while still a toddler. It was written, “This was looked upon as astonishing, considering his size and years, and it was predicted that he would become a great pedestrian.” As a youth he rarely took rides and instead relied on his legs to go from place to place. Under great difficulties, he was able to get a good education in Ireland. "In the village playground, amongst his classmates, he showed quite a preeminence in athletic sports, while he was yet in his teens.  He was the ringleader of all the boys in the locality and was a favorite." During his late teens he worked hard for two years in the interest of Ireland with all his energy and when free, fled the taxation coming. In 1865, at the age of nineteen, like so many other Irish, he immigrated to America. He could not find work in New York City, so he settled in Chicago, where he first worked in a lumber yard. He next sold pictures door-to-door for B. Bierfield and then sold Bibles door-to-door. After the tragic massive Chicago fire of 1871, he became financially crippled and because of so many homeless people in Chicago, he had to peddle books in surrounding villages. He built up his endurance from speed walking his routes. It was said that when he tried to sell books to people, that many told him to “take a walk,” so he did. O’Leary Takes up Long-Distance Walking Chicago In 1874, O’Leary was a tailor and toymaker in the heart of Chicago. He overheard a group discussing Weston’s walking exploits, including his attempts to walk 500 miles in six days. One person said that only a Yankee could accomplish the feat. Another commented that Weston was planning on going to Europe. O’Leary said, “If he dropped into Ireland on the way he’d get b...

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch In 1875, Edward Payson Weston was the most famous ultrarunner (pedestrian) in the world. Like a heavyweight boxing champion dodging his competition to keep his crown, he avoided repeated challenges to race against the up-and-comer, Daniel O’Leary of Chicago, Illinois. The two were the most famous American athletes in 1875. During August 1875, it was announced in New York City that plans were unfolding to hold “a grand international pedestrian tournament” in October that would include a six-day race with $1,000 going to the winner. It was hoped that all the great pedestrians including Weston and O’Leary would compete. Unfortunately, that race never unfolded, but Weston and O’Leary would soon battle head-to-head, not in New York City, but on O’Leary’s turf in Chicago. Please consider becoming a patron of ultrarunning history. Help to preserve this history by signing up to contribute a few dollars each month through Patreon. Visit https://ultrarunninghistory.com/member Weston vs. O’Leary - Finally Finally, on October 30, 1875, it was announced that Weston and O’Leary would compete in a six-day race on November 15th, with $5,000 going to the winner and $2,500 to the loser. O’Leary’s men had approached Weston offering $500 extra to cover his expenses. It was just too much money for Weston to resist, potentially about $140,000 in today’s value if he won. The venue would be in the massive new Interstate Exposition Building in Chicago. The building, measuring 800x400 feet, had opened in 1873, just two years after the Great Chicago Fire. It was rented with promises of receiving 15% of gross gate receipts. The announcement created great excitement across the country. To many at the time, it was similar to the dream matchup between Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier in 1971, regarded as the greatest boxing match in history. However, there were critics against holding the event. In Ottawa, Illinois it was written, “What excites our wonderment is, who pays the $7,500? What benefit can it be to anybody whether they walk 100 or 1,000 miles in six days. A horse or mule able to walk 600 miles in six days might be worth something, but who cares how many miles Weston or O’Leary can walk in a day or month, so long as they don’t kill themselves?” Similarly, in Mobile, Alabama: “Suppose these men had ploughs, wouldn’t they add something in this way to the wealth of the world?” Pre-Race Gardner House Weston arrived in Chicago three days before the race with his two black servants and stayed at the luxurious Gardner House, next to the Exposition Building on the Lake Michigan lakefront. It was reported, “He is in good condition and confident of success. O’Leary also is in excellent trim, and confident of victory as his opponent. The contest will no doubt prove very exciting.” Wagering was heavy with Weston being a slight favorite. Exposition Building Map The Chicago Tribune gave a pre-race commentary about the two pedestrians. “O’Leary has made some excellent feats, and has but one failure to his credit, while Weston, with also a good record at times, has a considerable number of bad fizzles on his list of attempts. Both men have before attempted the 500-mile walk, and both have succeeded. O’Leary made the distance in a little over 153 hours, while Weston covered the same ground in ten hours less. However, some doubt was cast on the accuracy of the timing and measurements which resulted.” O’Leary visited Weston and talked over plans for the race. Weston inspected the track and gave his approval. Two separate tracks would be used, the outer six laps to a mile, and the inner, seven laps to a mile. Weston was offered his choice and he picked the inside track. The Start Spectators began to assemble in the building an hour before the start. There wasn’t a huge crowd, only about 100 people, and consisted mostly of men interested in sports.

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch The six-day challenge (running as far as you could in six days) originally started in England during the late 1700s. Fifty years later, in the 1820s, a six-day frenzy occurred as many British athletes sought to reach 400 or more miles in six days (see episode 91). But then, six-day attempts were essentially lost for the next 50 years. Surprisingly, it was the Americans who resurrected these events in the early 1870s and brought them indoors for all to witness. The Brits believed they owned the running sport and surely their athletes were superior and could beat the upstart Americans, Edward Payson Weston and Daniel O'Leary. It was written, “They cannot be expected to be much better than those bred in England.” Both American and British runners/walkers wanted to prove that they were the best and challenges were sent back and forth across the Atlantic Ocean. The British did not realize that in 1875, there was no one truly skilled and trained in England to do heel-toe walking for the distances that Weston and O’Leary were doing in America.  Thus, Weston took the English bait and boarded a steamship to England. Please consider becoming a patron of ultrarunning history. Help to preserve this history by signing up to contribute a little each month through Patreon. Visit https://ultrarunninghistory.com/member British Pedestrian Talent The British attitude toward Americans in athletics at the time was characterized in one of their sporting newspapers. “Americans have long looked upon us as being far behind the times, while they have prided themselves on their ability to go ahead of all creation. This may be true, or it may not be so, but there can be no doubt that we have on all occasions shown ourselves fully equal to them in all branches of sport.” Another explained it this way, “We Englishmen only believe what we see of American prowess is the extreme untruthfulness of American sportsmen. We are not in the least degree jealous of their athletic prowess, we are only skeptical.” Lillie Bridge Grounds The current Pedestrian hero in England was William T. Perkins, “The Champion Walker in England.” On September 20, 1875, at the Lillie Bridge grounds in London, England, the home of the London Athletic Club, he covered eight miles in 59:05 in front of 5,000 people. In England “Pedestrianism” was not limited to walking, it included distance running and short-distance “sprint running.” But interest was low. During December 1875, a Sporting newspaper wrote, “Professional pedestrianism is at its lowest ebb in London.” The first long-distance running race, professional or amateur in more than a year was scheduled for December 26th that year, a ten mile-race held at Lillie Bridge. Reaction in England to Weston-O’Leary Race Weston and O'Leary British sports writers doubted the results of the December 1875 Weston-O’Leary six-day race in Chicago won by O’Leary (see episode 98). A respected British sportswriter, Easterling, wrote, “Either O’Leary is a wonder of endurance such as has never been before even dream of, or he isn’t, and that can only be tested by his walking against some known man round a large ground or on a road. Not to mince matters, the reason we Englishmen only believe what we see of American prowess, is the extreme untruthfulness of American sportsmen.” A running/walking expert in London carefully looked over the statistics of the Weston-O’Leary six-day race. He was impressed with the amount of data collected but wondered about competing that distance in “a covered building.” Indoor running competitions were not yet taking place in England, and it was believed that there were many British professional athletes who could beat “the Yankee horses,” Weston or O’Leary, easily on roads outside, rather than in comfy looping indoor accommodations, events which they referred to as “dreary tramps.” William Curtis

By Davy Crockett and Phil Lowry You can read, listen, or watch In Auburn, California, on the evening of July 30, 1972, an awards banquet was held at the fairgrounds for the finishers of the Western States Trail Ride, also known as the Tevis Cup. There was additional excitement that year among the exhausted riders, who early that morning had finished the most famous endurance ride in the world. Not only would the 93 riders receive their finisher belt buckles, but they would witness a trophy awarded to the first person in history to finish the famed trail, not on a horse, but on foot. The special trophy was made and would be presented by the ride’s founder, and president, Wendell Robbie. But when the trophy was presented, it was not awarded to Gordy Ainsleigh. His important accomplishment would come two years later. He was not the first to finish Western States on foot, despite the marketing hype you may have been told for 45 years. Ainsleigh was in the audience and watched the trophy and other awards go to the true first finishers. This is the story that has been left out of Western States 100 history. Note: Also listen to the audio episode for a discussion at the end between the two researchers/authors of this article.   Learn the true history of Western States 100, including this story in the new books covering the history of the 100-milers. This true story is covered in detail in part two: https://ultrarunninghistory.com/100miles2/ Fort Riley, Kansas Today, where is the trophy for the first finisher on foot? It likely resides forgotten in a dusty storage room in Fort Riley, Kansas, 140 miles west of Kansas City. Perhaps, similar to the depiction in the movie Raiders of the Lost Ark, the trophy will stay hidden for another 50 years. What is the true story behind this “first finisher on foot” trophy, and who received it? It was a front-page story in the Auburn Journal that was later forgotten and buried. How the First Finisher Story Started Mary Lyles McCarthy The Western States first finisher story started in 1967 with a young woman named Mary Bradley Lyles (1948-), of Visalia, California. Mary's father had served in the cavalry in World War II and passed on his passion for horsemanship to his daughters. As teens, Mary and her two sisters, Anne and Peggy became very involved in equestrian events, shows, competitions and weekly training events outside their back door. Their mother would support them by driving horse trailers all over.  Mary became a very experienced rider and completed the 1967 Western States Trail Ride at the age of 18. It had been an amazing experience riding day and night across the High Sierra. She married Joseph Thomas McCarthy (1945-) in 1969, who was in the army and soon was sent off to fight the war in Vietnam. Joseph McCarthy in 1969 After returning from the war, Capt. McCarthy was stationed at Fort Riley, Kansas. He became the leader of an adventure team consisting of many Vietnam veterans still in the service. As McCarthy was looking for a hard endurance adventure to test his team, his wife, Mary, proposed that the team try to cover the Western States Trail on foot, with the horses, during the Western States Trail Ride that year. General Edward Flanagan McCarthy loved the idea and received initial approval from Fort Riley post commander, General Edward M. Flanagan, Jr. (1921-2019), who had formed the adventure team, part of the 6th Battalion of the 67th Air Defense Artillery Regiment. Having the team climb over the Sierra for 100 miles in military-issue leather boots and fatigues could be viewed as “fun” for recruiting purposes. Plans for the March Wendell Robie Early in 1972, McCarthy contacted Wendell Robie (1895-1984), the president of the Western States Trail Ride to ask permission for his team to march the trail during the upcoming ride. He explained to Robie, “The Army has a new program of providing its men with challenges...

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch In early 1876 while Edward Payson Weston was taking on England in storm, embarrassing the British long-distance walkers and runners in the first six-day race in that country (see episode 99), the six-day race continued to be of growing interest in America, this time among women! Some in the press called these female wonders, “Pedestriennes.” Was America truly ready to accept that idea that women could walk or run for days, for hundreds of miles? Obviously, there were strong cultural beliefs during the era that it was improper for women to participate in distance walking and running. An editorial in the New York Times stated, “Today it is the walking match, soon the [women's vote] will come.” It isn’t surprising that once the women started to compete that New York City considered passing an ordinance banning “all public exhibitions of female pedestrianism.” Please consider supporting ultrarunning history by signing up to contribute a little each month through Patreon. Visit https://www.patreon.com/ultrarunninghistory Early Women Pedestrians Emma Sharp - Barclay walker from 1864 In 1876, female pedestrians were not entirely new.  As early as 1844 in England, women started to attempt the Barclay Match, walking 1,000 miles in consecutive 1,000 hours, one mile each hour (see episode 18).  Several British women were successful over the next thirty years. Often men wagering against their success would attempt to assault them to make them fail. In America, in 1868, Anne Fitzgibbons, “Madame Moore,” a clog dancer from England, exported women pedestrianism to America. She began putting on 50-mile walking exhibitions in upstate New York, wearing “male attire” during her walks, for which she was arrested. She went on to be the first known woman to walk 100 miles in less than 24 hours. There was speculation whether American women could be ultra-distance pedestrians. “American girls are generally poor walkers, and it will soon be a difficulty to find an American lady who can walk more than twenty minutes without complaining of fatigue. They pay too much attention to the shape and make of their boots for pedestrian performances.” A few isolated ultra-distances walks were performed by women during the early 1870s. In 1871, Lydia Nye walked 30 miles in eight hours over a rough, mountainous road near Bennington, Vermont. She received national attention in the newspapers. In 1874 a woman created quite a stir who had walked all the way from Kansas City, to Sacramento, California “in search of a truant husband.” She wouldn’t take rides offered or ride the railroad because of a fear of trains. “That husband will be the biggest fool of the two if he ever lets her catch him.” Other women soon started to make walks of huge distances, getting their names in the news. In 1875, M’lle Lola, a gymnast, and trapeze performer, walked 30 miles against a man in P.T. Barnum’s New York City Hippodrome (see episode 97) gaining intense fame. Time for a Women-only Six Day Race Chicago, Illinois seemed to be the right place for women pedestrians to race for six days for the first time and gain initial acceptance. Daniel O’Leary had energized the city with his historic six-day victory over Edward Payson Weston late in 1875 (see episode 98). Two daring women took the stage to be the first women in history to compete in a six-day race: Bertha Von Hillern and Mary Marshall. Bertha Von Hillern Bertha Von Hillern (1853-1939) was born in Stadtkreis Trier, Rheinland-Pfalz, Germany on August 4, 1853. Her mother encouraged and trained her in activities of strength and endurance. She joined in with boys in walking contests and she would outlast them all. They would “gaze with mortified astonishment at the little figure, erect, quiet, moving silently and steadily on toward the goal.” It was reported, "She began to study the science of pedestrianism when but twelve ...

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Women's Six-Day Race In 1876, Chicago, Illinois was the six-day race capital of the world. A six-day race frenzy broke out in many other cities, after the incredible Mary Marshall vs. Bertha Von Hillern race was held in February 1876. (see episode 101).  They showed America that not only could men pile up miles in six days, but women could too, even mothers. Both men and women sought to race for fame and fortune, even some who weren’t properly trained. There were so many people who wanted a piece of this action that the Chicago Tribune wrote that it would no longer publish challenges unless there was proof that money had been forfeited (secured) for a six-day wager.  This new policy was put in place “in view of the extraordinary lunacy which has lately been prevalent among the boys and women of Chicago on the question of walking matches and challenges.” The 1876 six-day craze took place especially among women. This episode will continue to tell the story of the earliest women six-day races. At least twelve six-day races involving women were held in 1876. Pedestrian historians have missed most of this history. The forgotten story has been discovered and can now be told. Please consider supporting ultrarunning history by signing up to contribute a little each month through Patreon. Visit https://www.patreon.com/ultrarunninghistory Millie Rose vs. Anna Mattice in Cincinnati Millie Rose, age 27, the infamous cowhide-wielding fiery pedestrian originally from England, had tasted some of the exciting six-day race between Mary Marshall and Bertha Von Hillern in early February 1876. (See episode 101). She immediately wanted a race of her own and found it in Cincinnati, Ohio. There, she competed against Anna Mattice, a Canadian living in Cincinnati, who was an "older runner." The race began on February 14, 1876, at the Cincinnati Exposition Hall, on a track measured to be 15 laps to the mile. Rose, who had not yet won a race, claimed to be “the champion female pedestrian of America.” For a surprise side-show during this Cincinnati race, Rose’s seven-year-old daughter Louise “Lulu” Rose walked an impressive 10 miles in 2:25:50. In the end, Millie Rose won in a shortened five-day match with 207 miles to Mattice’s 187 miles. Mattice only managed 19 miles on the last day. Millie Rose vs. Clara Hubbard in Toledo With that success, Rose wanted more. Just one week later, on February 26, 1876, another woman’s six-day race was held. At Toledo, Ohio, in Toledo Hall, Rose took on young Clara A. Hubbard (1859-1909), age 18, of Chicago, Illinois. The race started on a Saturday at 10 a.m., probably to attract spectators, instead of the typical early Monday start right after midnight. This race was scheduled for six and a half days. The event attracted great curiosity in Toledo. On day two, more than 1,000 spectators watched as Rose reached 88 miles and Hubbard 77 miles. On day three (after 2.5 days), both were doing well, and the score was Rose 132 and Hubbard 121. Running was obviously permitted or ignored because the women were able to clock amazingly fast miles. Hubbard’s fastest mile was run in 8:22. On day five, Rose’s seven-year-old daughter Lulu, raced against a nine-year-old boy for an hour. She reached five miles in 57 minutes. The little girl, with her mother’s fire, immediately challenged the boy to continue the race to 20 miles, but the boy wisely declined. Crowd-control was always a problem during these popular events. During the evening, a local bartender forced his way onto the track and refused to leave. “The affair caused a little excitement, but the fellow was ejected in a few minutes and the performance went on. The management took precautions against any such annoying episodes in the future.” Rose was ahead with 204 miles to Hubbard’s 186. On day six, Rose had a 24-mile lead, but Hubbard was narrowing the deficit fast,

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch The year 1876 was a particularly important year in ultrarunning/pedestrian history and thus several episodes have covered the events held that year. It was the year when the six-day races started to spread across America for the first time. Lost in ultrarunning history, is the story of the first major six-day race held in America with twelve competitors. It was called “The Grand Walking Tournament for the Championship of the World,” held in May 1876, in the massive Exposition Building in Chicago, Illinois. For the first time, the story of this historic race will be retold. In addition, that year, Daniel O’Leary, took the six-day race to California. Please consider becoming a patron of ultrarunning history. Help to preserve this history by signing up to contribute a little each month through Patreon. Visit https://ultrarunninghistory.com/member Daniel O’Leary’s influence upon American Pedestrianism In America, in 1876, Daniel O’Leary, the true pedestrian champion of America, was the driving force to spark interest in the sport. He competed, trained and encouraged other athletes, and invested his own time and money to make events successful. Early in 1876, he especially supported Chicago’s female pedestrians (see episodes 101 and 102). But with his success, outspoken critics emerged. Oleary had been criticized by some for his handling of the first women's six-day race between Bertha Von Hillern and Mary Marshall that ended in controversy. (see episode 101) “Mr. O’Leary may be a splendid walker, and he may have lined his pockets by this last appearance in public, but as a manager he has proved a lamentable failure and has not added to his reputation as a gentleman.” Challengers to O’Leary’s Title O’Leary received continual six-day challenges from others. Now that he was the champion over Weston, he was careful not to waste time with pretenders. When Caleb W. Sidnam (1829-1902), age 57, a travel agent from Chicago, publicly challenged him, O’Leary’s response included, “Of course, I am most desirous of preserving my championship medal, as also the reputation already acquired.” But he countered with strict conditions for the contenders to put up or shut up. Put up guaranteed money to show that they were serious. He said, “During the past few months I have been much annoyed by persons requesting me to give them a start of several miles. I will give no odds whatever, being convinced of the necessity of having such persons make a record on strength of their own merits.” Henry Schmehl (1851-1932), a German-American, and O’Leary’s friend, was one who hoped to be a challenger. He made it clear that he wanted no handicaps or favors, “that I had better establish a record for myself before I presumed to challenge him.” Thus, he first participated in the six-day race against Ellen Wickers and reached an impressive 502 miles, second only to O’Leary (see episode 102). When Weston was only able to reach 450 miles in six days in England (see episode 99), Chicago called him a “fraud” and wondered why no international attention was being paid to O’Leary or Schmehl who both exceeded Weston’s best. “Verily, if the Englishmen are astonished at Weston, will they not be amazed at O’Leary if he brings his match to England?” O’Leary heads to California Daniel O'Leary O’Leary took the Overland Railroad across the country in March 1876 to San Francisco, California. He then published a challenge to any man on the Pacific Coast, to race against him from 100-500 miles for as much as $10,000. If a challenger didn’t come forward, he would do a solo six-day walk for 500 miles and try to beat the world best time of 142:54:00, which was a little more than an hour less than six days. How would California react to this new sport and O’Leary’s brash challenges? One newspaper wrote, “If O’Leary would devote his leg-ability to some useful employment, say,

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch In America, 1876 had been a “loopy” six-day race year, with at least eighteen races held. Interest was high, but there were also skeptics. Closing out the last episode, Daniel O’Leary, of Chicago, the champion pedestrian of the world, reached 500 miles for the third time in six days, but his reputation had been tarnished due to some false accusations that in some people’s minds also put a black eye on the ultra-distance sport. With criticism swirling around him, it was time for O’Leary to show England that he was the true champion ultrarunning/pedestrian of the world, not Edward Payson Weston, who had been winning over the British respect and their money for months. By going to England, O’Leary would face off in a rematch with Weston for their historic second six-day race. It would receive nearly as much attention as the Ali vs. Frazer II boxing match that took place 97 years later in Madison Square Garden. O'Leary would become a key figure in the history of the sport that attracted international excitement for the six-day race, and also would bring back a massive fortune. Please consider supporting ultrarunning history by signing up to contribute a little each month through Patreon. Visit https://www.patreon.com/ultrarunninghistory O’Leary Heads to England In late September 1876, while O’Leary was on a ship crossing the Atlantic, Weston finally succeeded reaching 500 miles in six days for the second time. This was accomplished at the Ice-Skating Rink at Toxteth Park, in Liverpool and he went a little further, to 500.5 miles. Weston Ad O’Leary arrived in London a few days later, in early October, and immediately tried to help the British understand that he was the true pedestrian champion, not Weston.  O’Leary wrote, “I am desirous of forever settling the question, ‘Who shall be the champion pedestrian of the world? Should Weston be desirous of entering into a side-by-side contest of 500 miles with me, I hereby agree to give him a start of 25 miles in that distance.” Weston ignored O’Leary’s challenge and didn’t want to share the spotlight that was shining on him by the British public. He was even getting money from a product endorsement, doing ads for a cream to help with rheumatism, sprains, chest-colds, and lumbago. O’Leary Beats Weston’s Six-day Mark in Liverpool Frustrated that a race could not be scheduled, O’Leary wanted to prove to the British that he was better than Weston. He also went to Liverpool, determined to beat Weston’s recent mark set there of 500.5 miles in six days. On October 16-21, he also walked in the Admiral Street Skating Rink at Toxteth Park on a track measured 11 laps to a mile. Sam Hauge (1828-1901) of Liverpool, organized the event with a bet against O'Leary of £100, that O'Leary could not beat Weston's recent solo six-day mark of 500.5 miles under the exact same conditions on the same track. The English, skeptical of this newcomer, commented, “He is much prettier and a more rapid walker than Weston, but his dress is not near so neat as that worn by Weston.” To the British, how you looked was just as important as how you performed. Interest in Liverpool was intense.  Trams were filled, taking spectators to the rink where they would pay one shilling to watch day and night, and be entertained by a band.  O’Leary walked strongly on the first day, reaching 106 miles. On day two, show fatigue, he reached 169 miles and was 11 miles behind Weston’s pace.  He usually walked with a pacer who helped keep him awake by chatting and he improved, reaching 263 miles after three days despite being ill. Unable to take in solid food, he fueled mostly on soup and "slops." He didn't like walking to the music of a brass band, so a string orchestra replaced it. On the final days he lived on oysters stewed in milk. After five days, he reached 427 miles, and it was believed to be “doubtless” that he would succeed.

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Ultrarunning in Ukraine has had a long, wonderful history since the early 1970s. As the country is being ravaged from war, ultrarunners around Ukraine have turned their attention to survival, defending their country, or fleeing as refugees to other countries. Ultramarathons, once held regularly in Ukraine, are sadly gone for now. This episode will highlight the history of ultrarunning in Ukraine and profile some of the very talented Ukrainian ultrarunners who over the years have been a great inspiration. Ultrarunners from Ukraine ran with joy in the past, but now they run in fear. With most communications cut off from them, thoughts and prayers go out as they deal with the severe violence taking place in their homeland. Some recent news is being heard from Ukrainian ultrarunners. Over the years, there have been more than 5,000 ultrarunners from Ukraine who have walked or ran in ultramarathon events around the world from distances from 50 km to 3,100 miles. Before the pandemic, in 2019, there were 30 ultramarathons held in Ukraine and at least 1,300 Ukrainians finished ultras that year. 100km Along the Belt of Glory The first ultra in Ukraine was started in 1974, while the country was still part of the Soviet Union. It is called “100km Along the Belt of Glory” held in Odessa, Ukraine’s biggest port city. The race has been held every year since, for the 48 years. It was established to dedicate the day of liberation of Odessa from the Nazi invaders on April 10, 1944. The race, with a 24-hour cutoff, used to run a big loop around Odessa, but recently starts in Shevchenko Park, near the monument to the "Unknown Soldier," and then runs a big loop through Odessa, visiting many of monuments of the Second World War. It was first organized as a walking event in 1974 with 128 starters, and eventually evolved into a running ultra. The race’s largest year was in 1988 when there were 2,111 starters and 889 finishers in under 12 hours. The current organizers wrote this description, “On April 10, 1944, the troops of the 3rd Ukrainian Front liberated our city from the fascist invaders. And on April 6, 1974, the inaugural ‘100 km along the Belt of Glory’ took place. Since then, every year, without exception, at the beginning of April, a walking “hundredth” starts. "We can run because you stood still!" - this phrase has become the motto of the hundred. Sadly, and obviously, the race will not be held this year for the first time since 1974. The Belt of Glory 100km has had many traditions through the years. Guitarists walk along playing songs, accompanying the walkers and runners for the first 15 kilometers. At the finish line is played, “We are the Champions,” recognizing all those that finish as champions of the event. Finishers then get to dine on a signature soup cooked with love in the field kitchen. During the 1980s, the race was dominated by Vitalii Kovel (1947-) of Russia, a seven-time finisher, who still holds event record with a time of 6:14:12. He also holds five of the six fastest times in the history of the race. Among the women, Natalya Marimorich (1949-) of Ukraine has had the most wins, six from 1976 to 1985. The course record is held by Tatiana Khomich of Belaris with a time of 8:31:00, set in 1990. In 2021, the overall winner was Saaryan Andrey Pavlovich with 8:13. The women’s champion was Valentina Kovalskaya with 10:05. The Stadium Run in Odessa The runners in Odessa can be credited for being the pioneers of Ukrainian Ultrarunning. In 1988, another race was established in Odessa, a 24-hour track race that started a long tradition of fixed-time ultras in Ukraine.  It was held annually in late October for ten years and called the “24 Hours Stadium Run” and held in Spartak Stadium. For the first year, there were 35 runners from Ukraine, Russia, Latvia, and Moldavia. Valerii Gubar (1948-) of Russia won with 163 miles/262 kms.

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch By 1878, interest in ultrarunning/pedestrianism had taken a strong hold in Great Britain. The six-day race was viewed as a unique new branch of the running sport that fascinated many sporting enthusiasts. Like P.T. Barnum who was the first major promoter of ultrarunning in America, John Astley became the first prominent ultrarunning promoter in England. Astley’s significant involvement in 1878 helped to legitimize pedestrianism and he was the person who put “running” into "ultrarunning." He thankfully removed the walking restriction in the six-day race and established the first international championship race, later called “The First Astley Belt.” Please consider supporting ultrarunning history by signing up to contribute a little each month through Patreon. Visit https://www.patreon.com/ultrarunninghistory Sir John Astley Sir John Dugdale Astley (1828-1894) was a member of Parliament representing North Lincolnshire. He grew up in a wealthy family and was a lieutenant colonel in the Scots Fusilier Guards, serving in the 1854 Crimea War where he was wounded in the neck at the Battle of Alma. He was a great sportsman and while young, was an elite runner at the sprint distances. Astley was truly a “larger than life” character. “He was a big, burly, old man, fond of strong language and strong drink. Wherever he went he was made conspicuous by his large figure, white hair and beard, the enormous cigar, never out of his mouth, save when he was eating, drinking or sleeping, his strident voice and his frequent, boisterous laugh.”  A friend said, “He must have smoked more miles of cigars than any man living.” William Gale Astley also had a passion for horses and boxing and wagered large sums of money. He lost a small fortune betting against O’Leary in the Edward Payson Weston vs. Daniel O’Leary II race of 1877 (see episode 105). Astley introduced the first belt (not belt buckle), into ultrarunning when he awarded William Gale a massive belt for accomplishing 4,000 quarter miles in 4,000 consecutive periods of ten minutes during October-November 1877 for 28 days. Championship belts had been introduced in boxing as early as 1810, and Asley brought the belt into the sport of pedestrianism.  “Sir John Astley girded Gale’s waist with a belt of crimson velvet and massive silver. But the belt was too large, so amid much applause and some little merriment, it was slung across one of his shoulders.” Plans for the Long-Distance Championship for the Astley Belt On December 8, 1877, Astley announced that a six-day championship race would be held in the Agricultural Hall in London, open to all pedestrians in the world. A perpetual belt valued at £100 pounds would be awarded to the winner. The entrance fee was initially set at £10 (about $1,400 in today’s value). A telegram was sent to the recognized world champion, Daniel O’Leary in Chicago with an invitation. O’Leary quickly responded that he was interested. Go-As-You-Please Rules Introduced In January 1878, more detailed plans were announced for the historic event. The date was set for March 18th, with a prize package of £750. The field would be limited to twenty starters. But the most significant announcement was that the race would not be limited to heel-toe walking. The athletes could run if they wanted. It was called “Go-as-you-please.”  This was a historic decision made by Astley to embrace running along with walking. The decision to open up the competition to running was made for two reasons. 1. Weston was constantly criticized that his walking style of wobbling was not always true “heel-toe” walking. Even O’Leary had also been accused of running at times in his matches. This put pressure on judges during events and caused anger among wagerers. 2. In recent decades, the British had been developing running, not walking, and were at a clear disadvantage to Weston’s and O’Leary’s skill at walk...

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch In 1878, Daniel O’Leary of Chicago was the undisputed world champion of ultrarunning/pedestrianism. He cemented that title with his victory in the First International Astley Belt Six-day Race in London, defeating seventeen others, running and walking 520.2 miles. The Astley Belt quickly became the most sought-after trophy in ultrarunning. O'Leary was then the most famous runner in America and Great Britain, pushing aside the fleeting memory of Edward Payson Weston. As with any championship, want-a-be contenders came out of the woodwork. They coveted the shiny, heavy, gold and silver Astley Belt and wanted to see their own names engraved upon it. But more than anything, they also wanted the riches and the fame from adoring fans of the new endurance sport which was about to experience an explosion of popularity in both England and America. Please help the ultrarunning history effort continue by signing up to contribute a little each month through Patreon. Visit https://www.patreon.com/ultrarunninghistory Challenger: William Howes William Howes On the same day of O’Leary’s Astley Belt six-day victory, he received a challenge for the belt from William Howes (1839-), age 39, a waiter from Haggerston, England. Howes had been a very vocal critic of the Americans, O’Leary and Weston. He must have looked old because he was referred to as being “rather advanced in years.” He was 5’4” and had competed in running for many years. Back in December 1876, O’Leary had experienced the first pedestrian defeat of his career against Howes in a 300-mile 72-hour race when O’Leary had to drop out mid-race because of sickness. Howes had accused O’Leary of faking the illness to delegitimize Howe’s victory. Then a month later, Howes anonymously tried to put together a race against O’Leary, Weston and himself. But then Howes experienced an injury, couldn’t participate, and was very mad that the race wasn’t postponed for him. Howes Issue Challenge to O’Leary Howes was a legitimate ultrarunner, who in February 1878 had set a new world walking record for 100 miles (18:08:20) and 24 hours (127 miles). But for unknown reasons, Howes withdrew his entry for the Astley Belt race a week before the race. Now, instead of racing against the 18 runners in that race, he wanted a head-to-head match against O’Leary to try to snatch away the coveted Astley Belt. O’Leary was required to accept any challenge within three months and defend the belt within 18 months, but he had no intention of staying in England with his family to race against the pesky Howes. Howes, who clearly dodged competition in the First Astley Belt Race, just one week later, on March 30, 1878, raced against ten others for 50 miles in the Agricultural Hall in London.  Howes, won by two minutes and broke the world record with 7:57:54, the first to break the eight-hour barrier. (Later in the summer he would lower it further to 7:15:23 at Lillie Bridge). Also, just three days after O’Leary’s victory, Weston, who had also pulled out of the Astley Belt race claiming illness, realizing the huge money that could be involved, issued his own challenge against O’Leary. Other challenges came from Brits, Henry Vaughan, William Corkey, and Blower Brown, all veterans of the First Astley Belt Race. O’Leary Returns to America with the Belt O’Leary infuriated Howes and many others in England when he made it clear that he was returning to America and that any challenge to the belt would need to be competed against him there. He said, “Having won the belt, I had the say where the walking should be done. I wouldn’t walk in London again. They don’t know where America is, and of course wouldn’t go there.”  This didn’t please Sir John Astley who feared that the belt would never come back to England. He stated that if it didn’t come back, he would create an identical belt for the British to compete for,

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch By the end of 1878, at least 41 six-day races had been held in America and Great Britain since P.T. Barnum started it all with the first race in 1875. Daniel O’Leary of Chicago was still the undefeated world champion with ten six-day race wins. He was a very wealthy man, winning nearly one million dollars in today’s value during 1878. All the racing was taking a toll on O’Leary, and he had frequent thoughts about retiring. However, he still had obligations as the holder of the Astley Belt and the title of Champion of the World. If he could defend the Astley Belt one more time, three wins in a row, by rule he could keep the belt. A Third Astley Belt Race was in the early planning to be held sometime during the summer of 1879. In January he went to Arkansas to rest at the famous hot springs with its six bathhouses and 24 hotels. Little did he know that the Third Astley Belt Race would be one of the most impactful spectator events in New York City 19th century history witnessed by more than 80,000 people. It impacted ten of thousands of workers' productivity for a week and even distracted brokers on Wall Street away from their ticker tapes. The major New York City newspapers included more than a full page of details every day that revealed the most comprehensive details ever of a 19th century six-day race. Because of its historic importance, this race will be presented in two articles/episodes. Please help the ultrarunning history effort continue by signing up to contribute a little each month through Patreon. Visit https://www.patreon.com/ultrarunninghistory Astley Backs a Potential British Champion John Astley Sir John Astley wanted to make sure a Brit would next win the belt. After putting on an English Championship in late October 1878, he identified the best British candidate that he thought could contend with O’Leary and bring the Astley Belt back to England. His man was Charles Rowell, who had recently placed third in Astley’s English Championship Six-Day race with 470 miles. Astley formally issued a challenge to O’Leary on behalf of Rowell. Charles Rowell Charles Rowell (1852-1909), age 26, was born in Chesterton, Cambridge, England, and was fond of sports athletics in his childhood. He had gained some fame as a rower at Cambridge and was regarded as one of Britain’s top emerging athletes. He started his running career in 1872, winning some races. In 1874 he won a 19-mile race in 1:57:45 and later covered 32 miles in four hours. He was no doubt very fast. When Edward Payson Weston first came to England in 1876, Rowell raced against him in a 275-mile track race in the Agricultural Hall in London. He mostly played the role as a pacer and completed 175 miles to Weston’s 275 miles. Astley charged Rowell to get himself fit and promised to pay the expenses for him to travel to America for the Third Astley Belt Race. After a few weeks of training, Astley invited Rowell to his estate and observed his running abilities. “I was satisfied that he was good enough to send over to try and bring back the champion belt to England.” He provided £250 for his expenses. Prior to leaving England, it was rumored that he had covered a world record 539 miles in a private six-day trial, but Rowell would not confirm or deny it. Third Astley Belt Scheduled On November 7, 1878, John Ennis of Chicago, was the first runner to properly apply to London’s Sporting Life (the stakeholder) to challenge for the Astley Belt.  Charles A. Harriman of Boston was the next, followed by Charles Rowell on December 1, 1878. By the end of January 1879, O’Leary accepted the challenges and started planning for a June race. But within a few days, John Astley, the founder of the Astley Belt series, decided that the next Astley Belt Challenge would be held in March 1879 at New York City in Gilmore’s Garden, soon to be renamed Madison Square Garden.

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Many women participated in six-day races during the 1800s. With the great publicity of the Astley Belt Six-Day races, and the popularity of the new go-as-you-please format inviting running, the six-day race exploded into a craze in America and Great Britain. Of the 850 total starters in 85 six-day races in 1879, more than 120 starters were women. The details of the 17 women’s races held that year were fascinating, full of surprising drama, and needs to be remembered in this history, especially given the strong discriminating feelings toward women athletics in that era and for the century that followed. Please help the ultrarunning history effort continue by signing up to contribute a little each month through Patreon. Signup and get a bonus episode about the first major six-day race held in California. Visit https://www.patreon.com/ultrarunninghistory Women’s International Six-Day Gilmore's Garden After the Third Astley Belt Race was concluded in New York City’s Gilmore’s Garden (Madison Square Garden) on March 15, 1879, (see episode 109), it was quickly announced that a “Grand Ladies’ International Six-Day Race” would also be held at Gilmore’s Garden in less than two weeks. It would be the first “go-as-you-please” (running-allowed) six-days race for women. Yes, women would start running to the shock of the Victorian Age public. Because of scheduling conflicts in the building, the race would need to span across a Sunday. At first, they were told they would be allowed to run on Sunday. However, the police chief later decided that they would have to take a 24-hour rest on Sunday during the race. For the first time, a women’s ultrarunning race would include spectacular prizes for the winner. The first-place prize would be $1,000 ($28,750 value today) in cash along with a belt similar to the Astley belt, called the “Walton Belt” made by Tiffany valued at $250. The manager of the race was Francis Theodore “Plunger” Walton (1837-1911), a racehorse man and manager of the St. James Hotel in New York City.  A hefty entrant’s fee of $200 was required to ensure that only the most serious women pedestrians would participate. All women who reached 325 miles, would get their fee back. Many women athletes expressed interest, including a number of amateur pedestrians trying to break into the sport. The same track for the Third Astley Belt race would be used. Army tents were provided for each competitor and three medical attendants would take care of them during the race. The Start On the evening of March 27, 1879, as a promenade concert was being held, many women accompanied by friends. carried bundles, bedding, trunks, and other possessions to the row of white tents in Gilmore’s Garden. At 11 p.m., the eighteen women starters listened to race rules that included a new rule against dogging the runner’s heels ahead, a rule that wouldn’t be enforced very well. The ladies were arranged in four rows and started with the word “go,” accompanied by music from the band and the cheers of about 1,000 people. Exilda La Chapelle, of Canada, was the early favorite, but few bets were made. The news press was generally unfavorable about having women participating in such an event. They wrote, “The pitiful spectacle of 18 women starting on a six days’ walk for money prizes was witnessed by about 1,000 spectators.” New York City’s foremost pedestrian promoter, William B. Curtis, (1837-1900), founder of the New York Athletic Club, refused to have anything to do with the race other than collecting the money to guarantee the promised prize package of $1,750. It was reported, “As soon as the eighteen were well under way, the fun began. The crowd seemed to regard the affair much in the same farcical light as they would a burlesque entertainment at a theatre. They were a strange lot. Tall and short, heavy and slim, young and middle-aged,

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch As this concluding part of the Third Asley Belt Race opens, four elite ultrarunners were competing to be the Champion of the World in New York City in 1879, seeking to become the holder of the Astley Belt. The current world champion, Daniel O’Leary had apparently dropped out because of health reasons after 215 miles on day three. Great Britain’s best hope, Charles Rowell was in lead with 250 miles. Two others were still in the race, John Ennis of Chicago, and Charles Harriman of Massachusetts. Who would win? Don't miss part one, which included a violent riot at the start of the race. The shocking details are covered in Part one. (Read/Listen/Watch first). Please help the ultrarunning history effort continue by signing up to contribute a little each month through Patreon. Signup and get a bonus episode about the first major six-day race held in California. Visit https://www.patreon.com/ultrarunninghistory Gilmore's Garden On day three, the race continued in Gilmore’s Garden which would be renamed in a couple months to Madison Square Garden. The biggest story about this historic race wasn’t about the competition taking place on the track, it was about what occurred among the crowds of tens of thousands of spectators and the impact of the race on the entire city. Ultrarunning would emerge as the greatest spectator sport of its era in America. The New York Sun prophesied truly, "When the historian, a hundred years hence, looks over the files of this week's newspapers, he will not believe all that he finds on the subject is sober history. He will take it for a poor joke or a big humbug. And what is there to show for the week's excitement? Several heads clubbed, thousands of poor wretches encouraged in their betting and gambling proclivities, and four men worn out. This is a great country!" Tragic Accident At about 8:15 p.m., on day three, a tragic accident occurred among the spectators causing “such a scene of wild and indescribable confusion and alarm that has rarely been witnessed inside a public building.” Certainly, it was the greatest accident among spectators in ultrarunning history. A temporary upper gallery had been constructed that was divided into boxes. It was an ideal location to view the entire track and was very overcrowded with ten times the number of people intended. “A throng of ladies and gentlemen crowded every available inch of the place, some seated and many perched upon chairs and tables.” Suddenly, a portion of the gallery collapsed down upon the roof of a pavilion below. “The first intimation of the danger was the gradual settling of the flooring, then a loud, creaking noise, and away went a section of fifteen yards of the gallery, carrying with it over one hundred people.”  Many, including ladies, were hurled 18 feet below. Thankfully, the structure did not collapse all at once, giving many below some time to escape, including those tending glass blower and flower bouquet stands. A few others below were less fortunate. “The frail structure broke into small pieces in the descent, and the unfortunate people who were precipitated with it were jammed between the debris, several of them being seriously injured.” The most serious injuries involved a broken leg, broken hand, broken collar bone, a spine injury, and a concussion. “A wall of struggling, groaning, maimed and terrified persons was piled up. A gashed face peeped through the broken timbers, an outstretched arm there. Panic ensued as people started stepping on injured people trying to get away.” A cloud of dust spread, seen by all in the building. It didn’t stop there. Panic spread throughout the building as some spectators thought that the entire building was collapsing. The runners stopped and left the track.  A surge of people pressed forward to exit the building near the collapsed area. The police started rescue efforts among the rubble.

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch On March 3, 1879, at the Fifth Regiment Armory in New York City, during Peter Van Ness’ attempt to walk 2,000 half-miles in 2,000 consecutive half-hours, one of the most shocking events in ultrarunning history took place. Van Ness, sleep deprived, drunk, and in intense pain, got hold of a gun and shot his trainer, Joseph Burgoine, in the arm, next took a shot at his manager, Simon Levy, grazing his silk hat.  Panic resulted among the spectators. It could have resulted in mass murder. How could this be? My new book! Grand Canyon Rim to Rim History The sport of ultrarunning during the 19th century was truly filled with tales of strange things that are unthinkable and shocking to us today. This is the first part of more than ten true surprising articles/episodes taken from 19th century newspapers about wild tales that took place in the sport of ultrarunning/pedestrianism This episode will present two bizarre and shocking stories that have never been fully told and have been forgotten -- the Van Ness shooting, and the head-scratching story of John Owen Snyder, "The Indiana Walking Wonder," who may have walked and run more miles in three years than anyone in history. Subscribe to the Ultrarunning History Podcast to get alerts and downloads automatically when new episodes are published every two weeks:  https://ultrarunninghistory.com/subscribe-to-podcast/ Peter Van Ness Peter Lewis Van Ness (1853-1900) was from Brooklyn, New York. He began his famed professional pedestrian career in 1876 when he started to walk six-day matches against women, reaching 450 miles. He was about six-feet tall and was known to plod along in “rakish style” and a strange gait, wearing striped stockings up to his knees. He had walked in several six-day races and had success in 50-mile races. On January 27, 1879, Van Ness, age 25, started his 2,000 half miles in 2,000 half hours competition in New York City against Edward Belden (1856-1926), age 22, of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The venue was in the old Fifth Regiment Armory located in lower Manhattan, at Hester and Elizabeth Streets. The wagering stakes between the two were huge, $500 ($5,800 value today). Belden was trying to cover the 2,000 half miles in consecutive 20-minute segments. A track of sawdust and loam was created in the Armory’s drill room with eleven laps to the mile. The 1,000 Mile Match Begins View from Armory, many street peddlers Everything started out well during the first week. Both started to complain of calloused heels and Van Ness suffered from headaches. But both looked well and didn't show signs of exhaustion. "Van Ness walks with a free and easy movement of his whole body, keeping a sharp eye on his opponent and laughing and talking with friends in the room. His walk is strongly suggestive of a hungry man on his way to dinner." His fastest half-mile was clocked in 4:20. Belden wore velvet trunks, red socks and a light-colored vest covered with medals. After a couple of weeks, Belden hit his knee against one of the stakes of the ring and it was feared that we would have to quit. "A speedy application of liniment relieved the pain and kept down the swelling so that the effects of the blow soon wore off." Van Ness was said to be very nervous and cross, and "frequently has difficulties with his trainer when 'time' is called, and he has to appear on the track." The dismal hall had strong odors of stale cigar smoke and beer. A small Italian orchestra played tunes on a harp, violin, and flute. After 20 days, Beldan was a mess.  “His feet are a mass of blisters and it is almost impossible to wake him up.” The stress put on both men, physically and mentally was incredible. On Feb 23rd, after 28 days, Belden was successful in his grueling task and reached his 1,000 miles. “After finishing his journey, he retired to his room, donned citizens’ clothes,

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch The sport of ultrarunning during the 19th century was truly filled with tales of strange things that are unthinkable and shocking to us today. This series of episodes presents a collection of the most bizarre, shocking, funny, and head-scratching events that took place in ultrarunning during a 25-year period that began about 150 years ago. The first part covered two strange tales, one shocking and one sad. This episode will report on the “cranky or daffy runners” whose minds turned to mush after several days of running without much sleep. They started to experience hallucinations, doing crazy things, delighting the thousands of spectators who came hoping to watch a train wreck of runners. Please help the ultrarunning history effort continue by signing up to contribute a little each month through Patreon. Signup and get a bonus episode about the first major six-day race held in California. Visit https://www.patreon.com/ultrarunninghistory Cranky Runners For the "pedestrian era" of ultrarunning, more than 120 years ago, spectators hoped to watch a runner go what they called, “cranky” in this reality show. It was said that by hour 36 of a six-day race that runners could be expected to do stranger things as exhaustion and sleep deprivation caused hallucinations.  It was explained, “The cranky spell is reached, and the contestants furnish no end of amusement. Their tired brains are in a whirl, and it is only to be expected that the men should act like inmates of a ‘funny house.’” For example, during a 1901 six-day race on a small track in the old city hall in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, Martin Fahey (1857-1937), a Shenandoah miner went cranky and became violent after 150 miles. He demanded that the scorers credit him with a mile every time he completed a lap, probably 1/15th of a mile. “He claimed that the scorer and spectators had entered into a conspiracy to defraud him and was so demonstrative that his trainers found it advisable to take him out of the race.” He was soon fast asleep and put on a train for home. “As the news went out from Old City Hall that the men were going insane from the terrible strain of the race, people flocked to the place expecting to see the men do something violent. The hall was crowded to its capacity by the curious, who one minute sympathized with the men in their apparent suffering and the next minute were moved to laughter by their antics.” Tony Loeslein (1873-1939), a tailor from Erie, Pennsylvania, went cranky after 200 miles, left the track, and went into the crowd. “He asked the spectators to aid him in claiming that his trainers had stolen all his money and clothes. He tried to convince a small group of people that he was a much-abused man, and would have succeeded, had not his trainer arrived on the scene and placed him back on the track, where he continued to run, seemingly well-satisfied.” Missing Runners Runners would at times go bonkers so badly that they went missing. “One of the leaders suddenly stopped and climbed over the rail and ran into the tent of one of the other contestants. He was missed by his trainers who eventually found him and dragged him out, and in a few minutes was back on the track going around as steadily as ever." Frank Hart James Dean, of Boston, Massachusetts, one of the brave black runners of the era was a stenographer. During a race, he suddenly accused his crew of attempting to poison him and then would not accept food from them unless it was first tasted by someone to prove that it wasn’t poisoned. After he reached 412 miles on the last day of his six-day race, he was in a “daffy” condition, and he was taken to the hospital. He then escaped his attendants while in the bathroom. He went through an open window and down a fire escape. St. Francis Hospital “A search was at once instituted and kept up for several hours without finding any trace of the missing racer...

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Sadly, some professional walkers and runners from the “pedestrian” era, more than 120 years ago, became afflicted by mental and physical illness during and after six-day runs, likely caused by the powerful drugs and stimulants that were used at the time, and also due to mental stress breakdowns.  Enormous pressure was put on them by their financial backers to be successful. Their “trainers” or crew would at times resort to measures that would have long-term effects on the health of their runners to get a short-term financial windfall. Not only would they load their runners full of stimulants, but would use cruel methods to keep them awake, including sticking needles in their skin, whipping them, and waking them up with very loud horns. Run Davy Crockett's Pony Express Trail 50 or 100-miler to be held on October 14-15, 2022, on the historic wild west Pony Express Trail in Utah. Run among the wild horses. Crew required. Your family and friends drive along with you. http://ponyexpress100.org/ Runners Accused of Becoming Insane In some cases, runners acted so irrationally that they were declared insane and committed to institutions. John Gowan In 1891, John Gowan (real name Robert Sherlock), called “the salvation army walker” participated in a six-day race in Madison Square Garden and had reached 278 miles. Just after midnight, Gowan showed signs of mental trouble. Instead of sleeping during the night he rested while singing gospel hymns. In the morning he started walking again, but his eyes grew wild and staring, and he let out a wild-west war whoop. “His trainer squeezed a sponge soaked in water and ammonia in his face. Gowan struck his trainer in the face and made a bolt for the Madison Avenue end of the Garden.” He cleared the fence of the track in one leap. “Then the fellow rushed wildly down the paved lobby, cleared the brass railing at the ticket box, and ran out into Madison Square Garden arrayed in all the glory of dirty tights and a bright bule silk jumper. Two policemen gave chase and caught the escaped pedestrian. Bringing him back, the officers lifted him bodily over the rail, and his trainers led him back to his hut and put him to bed. A moment later one of them opened the door to take a peep at the fatigue-crazed pedestrian and Gowan plumped him a singing blow in the face.” He was then locked in his hut but later broke out, insisting on returning to the track, half naked. A policeman convinced him to change his mind. “The crazed fellow drank nearly a quart of kerosene oil that was in the hut which he had been locked into by the trainers.” His friends next took him to a room in Putnam House and locked him in. But he escaped through a window and down a fire escape. "Upon reaching the street he sped down 4th Avenue in quicker time than was ever made on the tanbark. At this point he was spied by an officer. When the officer tried to arrest the man, he fought like a tiger and finally assistance had to be called. He was taken to the police precinct and thence in an ambulance to Bellevue hospital." It was concluded that his illness was caused by a lack of nourishment. The trainers were accused of giving Gowan so much whisky that it would have knocked out a man. It was believed that he had gone insane. A few days later, he had recovered. “A short rest was all that was needed to restore his mind.” His sister commented that he had not been fit for the severe mental or physical effort demanded by a six-day race. He retired from the sport. Ultrarunning Fans Committed Not only would runners be accused of going insane from six-day races, but there was also one case of a spectator acting strangely. In 1888, Julia Finley of New York City had attended a six-day match with great enthusiasm. Afterwards it was said that she was found constantly walking around her apartment, believing that she was beating the world record.

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Today’s ultras usually have few disruptions from outsiders or spectators. The most serious disturbances are typically from people who take down course flagging which can cause runners to go off course, potentially putting them in serious danger.  But during the era of ultrarunning more than 120 years ago, with thousands of spectators watching exhausted runners go in circles for six days, strange disruptions were commonplace. During high profile races, squads of policemen were required to keep the order. This is the fourth part of the Ultrarunning Stranger Things series. See Part 1, Part 2 (Hallucinations), and Part 3 (Sickness and Death). Run Davy Crockett's Pony Express Trail 50 or 100-miler to be held on October 14-15, 2022, on the historic wild west Pony Express Trail in Utah. Run among the wild horses. Crew required. Your family and friends drive along with you. http://ponyexpress100.org/ Disruptions In 1879, at Canarsie, Brooklyn, New York, an indoor six-day walking competition was taking place between five walkers in front of a nice crowd in Lehmann’s Hotel. It was put on by William Van Houten (1857-1914). The event was going along fine until two well-known local men entered the room, John Wilson, and Aleck Fisher.  At the time most of the competitors were off track, sleeping, and so were many of the spectators. “Wilson jumped on the track and commenced breaking it up, while Fisher went about the room upsetting the benches on which were the sleeping Canarsieites." "One of the walkers, Clinton Drake, requested Wilson to desist from breaking up the track, whereupon Wilson caught Drake by the shoulders, shook him and threatened to throw him out the window. Wilson broke the track up to such an extent that it became necessary to stop the walk.” The two men were arrested by a constable but pleaded not guilty. Drake pressed charges of assault and battery again Wilson, who pleaded not guilty to that charge too. In 1879 at the 3rd Astley Belt Race in Gilmore's Garden, New York City, as the leader, Charles Rowell (1852–1909), was trotting on the track, a man rushed from the west side of the building and yelled "an offensive epithet" at Rowell. "At this instant the English pedestrian got afraid, and there was tremendous excitement. A policeman arrested the man and took him out, and a policeman accompanied Rowell round the track until order was restored." A Gang Interferes Apgar in later years Also in 1879, a contest in the Industrial Art Building in Philadelphia experienced many disruptions. Melville B. Apgar (1950-1934), of New York City, who fought in the Civil War as an underage infantryman, was in the lead on day four of a six-day race when an incident ruined his race. “He was going around at a fair gait when a drunken man came on the track, and the acting referee, Jones, ordered him off. He refused to go, and a scuffle ensued, during which the drunken man fell against Apgar as he was passing and knocked him down.” Apgar tried to continue for several miles, but his knee had been sprained and he had to withdraw from the race.  Apgar and his friends criticized the race management, and one of them, Clark, made a very inflammatory speech about the terrible treatment received. “He was instantly surrounded by a crowd, and cries of ‘Put him out,” and “Kill him” and the like were freely used, and a rush was made.” The race manager asked the police to kick Clark out of the building and they did. Rumors circulated that there were further threats against Apgar and his friends from John Comber’s notorious “Reading Hose Gang”. A large police force of officers was brought in to prevent any more disturbances. But still, “Tricks” Muldoon, a member of the gang stole a cornet from a musician who was playing in the band during the event. The Reading Hose gang was an infamous group of ruffians that made their headquarters near the Reading Railroad depot...

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Steve Brodie The 19th century ultrarunner was a different breed of athlete compared to those today who participate in the sport. A large number of those early runners were not necessarily the most outstanding citizens. For the vast majority, the motivation for participating was not to see what they could personally accomplish running long distances. They were primarily motivated by greed and gaining fame. It should not be too surprising that many were involved in wild free-spending lifestyles, scandals, illegal activities, and run-ins with the law. A pattern emerged for many of the most successful ultrarunners of the 1800s. They would quickly gain fame and build up a massive fortune, only to come crashing down a few years later through their own mismanagement, dishonesty, and huge egos.  Even the most famous pedestrian of all, Edward Payson Weston, blew through his money, filed for bankruptcy, and was criticized for abandoning his family at times. In this episode, the story of seventeen-year-old Steve Brodie of New York City is a case study of one who gained fame and fortune ultrarunning but treated many people terribly along the way and eventually used fraud to revive his fame. The American vernacular term “do a Brodie” meaning taking a bad risk, or experiencing a complete failure/flop, came about because of Steve Brodie, the New York Newsboy Pedestrian. Run Davy Crockett's Pony Express Trail 50 or 100-miler to be held on October 14-15, 2022, on the historic wild west Pony Express Trail in Utah. Run among the wild horses. Crew required. Your family and friends drive along with you. http://ponyexpress100.org/ Stephen Brodie, (1861-1901) “the New York Newsboy,” was the son of Richard and Mary Brodie of New York City. Richard was a member of the Bowery Boys street gang that menaced the city in the Bowery neighborhood in Lower Manhattan. The gang was an anti-Catholic, anti-Irish, and a somewhat criminal gang. The uniform of a Bowery Boy generally consisted of a stovepipe hat, a red shirt, and dark trousers tucked into boots. Richard was murdered shortly after Steve was born in 1861. The Bowery Boys reached the height of their power in 1863 taking part in looting much of New York Citty during the New York Draft Riots. Steve’s older brothers were groomed for the gang at a young age. Steve Brodie was the youngest of seven children. Instead of attending school, Steve worked as a child selling newspapers starting at the age of six. His older brothers constantly beat him and took his hard-earned money. At age nine, he moved out of his poverty-stricken home and moved into a boy’s home and later went to live in a newsboy lodging house. Newsboy The career was a newsboy was explained, “You had to sell newspapers every day, or else your risked becoming homeless. You fought for street corners and fought to protect your property. Men robbed the boys and older boys robbed the younger boys.” In his late teens, he led his own gang of newsboys.  “He won the friendship of everyone he came in contact. He became acquainted with people of many classes, brokers, capitalists, lawyers, newspaper men, athletes, sporting men, actors, cranks, crooks, bums, and all the various kind of humanity that united to make New York an inexhaustible field for the student of mankind.” Brodie was a strong and daring swimmer who became a member of the Life Saving Corps organized on the East River front. As a youth he was credited for making many rescues including two women who fell of an excursion barge. Brodie’s First Ultra In February 1879, at the age of 17, Brodie made his first attempt to break into the sport of Pedestrianism.  The New York Daily Herald took notice.  “Pedestrianism has wrought its way into the favor of the upper circles of newsboydom, as was proven last evening by the commencement of the feat, proposed by Master Stephen Brodie,

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch By 1906, when the pedestrian era was over, most of the elite pedestrians turned to legitimate professions to support their families. Daniel O’Leary was traveling for a big publishing house. John “Lepper” Hughes was in the real estate business, Jimmy Albert was a Texas cattleman, Robert Vint was an oil agent in Russia. Samuel Day was a house painter in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. But many others had a darker side, driven by motivations of greed and were not necessarily the most outstanding citizens. It should not be too surprising that many were involved in wild free-spending lifestyles, scandals, illegal activities, and run-ins with the law. This episode will concentrate on the strange darker side of the sport during the late 1800s. Future episodes will focus on corruption during the races and some bizarre love triangles among the running community. Run Davy Crockett's Pony Express Trail 50 or 100-miler to be held on October 14-15, 2022, on the historic wild west Pony Express Trail in Utah. Run among the wild horses. Crew required. Your family and friends drive along with you. http://ponyexpress100.org/ Publicity Fraud and Redemption The year 1879 saw an explosion of people trying to enter the ultrarunning/pedestrian sport with at least 90 six-day races held worldwide with 900 starters. That year, Madame Waldron and Walter Moore tried their hands at going after the fame and fortune of pedestrianism. Their story is interesting because they both degraded into serious fraud but later, they turned around their lives serving the downtrodden in their community. Harriet “Hattie” L. (Waldron) Adams (1845-1911), of Brooklyn, New York (also known as Madame Waldron), became a female pedestrian in 1879. She married very young, in 1861, at the age of seventeen, to Henry Adams and they had a daughter, Emma. Henry likely died and in 1879, as the Pedestrian craze took hold in America, Hattie turned to the sport to start a new life and attempt to earn a fortune. Skating in the Brooklyn Rink In January 1879, Adams (Madame Waldron) walked 150 miles in 50 hours at the Adelphi Theatre in New York City. Next, on March 3, 1879, she competed in an “International Pedestrian and Billiard Tournament” that was held at the Brooklyn Roller Skating Rink, near Dr. Justin D. Fulton’s Temple. Pedestrians, male and female from nine countries attempted various walks for huge money on seven sawdust tracks, each 20 laps to a mile, set up in the building. It was an amazing spectacle. “Its entire appearance had been changed from a mammoth, bleak and dreary barn to a bright and cheery place of amusement. Between the tracks were placed rows of evergreens, shrubs and flowing plants which gave the floor much of the appearance of a garden. Three full-sized billiard tables were placed in a space in the center of the rink. From the roof were pendant hundreds of bright flags. At the rear of the hall was a large music gallery.” Adams/Madame Waldron and one of the most famous female pedestrians, May Marshall, attempted to walk 4,000 quarter miles in 4,000 quarter hours. Adams was said to be “of large statue but attractive,” 180 pounds, and claimed to be “the heavyweight champion of America.” She did not succeed in the very difficult 1,000-mile walk but had tasted the spotlight of fame and wanted more. A couple months later, Adams competed against Walter Moore (1854-1915), a novice walker and construction worker from Brooklyn, attempting 2,700 miles in 2,700 quarter hours in Brooklyn at Bennett’s Hotel on Atlantic Avenue. They did not make it, covered at least 111 miles, but they did evidently find love and got married. Walter Moore started going by the name of Charles Livingston and claimed that he successfully walked 4,000 quarter miles in 4,000 quarter hours, which was not true. Fasting for 42 Days After their short pedestrian careers were over,

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Ultrarunners/Pedestrians of the late 1800s were a unique breed of determined and aggressive individuals who were in the sport primarily trying to cash in on the huge prize money potential and to get their names in the newspapers as “world champions.” They would gladly endure the torture of running hundreds of miles in a week for a perceived easy way to earn life-changing money. Such opportunities obviously attracted individuals that weren’t necessarily the most outstanding citizens and had run-ins with the law. But the law and others at times wanted to bring down the sport and the athletes, and thus confrontations occurred. Get Davy Crockett's new book, Frank Hart: The First Black Ultrarunning Star. In 1879, Hart broke the ultrarunning color barrier and then broke the world six-day record with 565 miles, fighting racism with his feet and his fists. Race Accused of Disorderly Conduct in a Saloon In 1885, two female pedestrians, Emma Frazier (1861-1914) and Elizabeth Carr were arrested in Philadelphia at a saloon on Walnut Street, along with 25 spectators and the race manager, James B. Jamison (1830-1900) for disorderly conduct. A policeman visited the event and went to obtain an arrest warrant.  A raid was conducted, the race stopped, and arrests were made. It was discovered that Carr was a minor, aged 19. “The excitement over the match was at its height, some thirty persons being assembled in the bar and showroom. The raid had been carefully kept secret and was completely successful. Everybody in the house was taken out of it and marched in a melancholy procession to the Central Station where they were locked up to await a hearing the next morning. One of the young pedestrians had the good fortune to be wearing a calico skirt over her bloomer costume, but the other, in the regulation fancy dress tights and short jacket of red, was marched through the streets, to the amusement of the ‘groundlings.’” Walnut Street Theatre Jamison, who also had a retail store, had previous run-ins with the law and believed the raid “was a piece of spite work on the part of a neighbor with whom he was competing in business.” At the hearing, it was testified that the place was noisy and disorderly. “Mr. J. L. Grotenthaler, the owner of the competing business, said the place was interfering with his business, and he was losing his lady customers. Officer Watson said that he visited the place because of complaints that young girls were enticed into it. He saw a man guarding the entrance to the show room allowing nobody to enter without one of the checks presented by the barkeeper with each glass of beer or liquor sold. He saw both men and women drinking. Jamison was held for $1,000 to answer the charge of keeping a disorderly house and the other prisoners were released.” Mark All, the 60,000-mile Pedestrian Arrested Mark All (1828-1925), of England, was an interesting pedestrian character. He claimed to be one of the mega-mile “around the world” walkers of the time and claimed to be the “champion walker of the world.” Many stories are told about these journey walkers in episodes 38-45. Most of these professional walkers were taking advantage of the naïve Americans, but Mark All was a rare elderly walker who was entertaining the British. All was born in Greenwich, England in 1828 where he learned an electrical engineering career. For years he was employed by a firm of engineers. But during a great strike of 1897-98, he lost his employment. Since he was 72 years old, he made up his mind to start a walking tour and find employment wherever he could, to prove that a man isn’t “used up” in old age. All claimed that he started a long walk on August 6, 1900, and walked 30,000 miles before his efforts were noticed by the sports newspapers of that era in 1904. He said that three of the papers raised a £500 prize for him if he could continue and reach 60,

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Perhaps this is the tabloid episode of 19th century pedestrianism. In the late 1800s, ultrarunners (called pedestrians back then), both male and female spent a prolonged time away from their homes and families as they traveled to compete in races across American and in England. As with other professional athletes and celebrities, even in our day, love scandals would at times emerge that made for popular gossipy news stories. Many of these ultrarunners/pedestrians became instantly wealthy and had numerous adoring fans and friends who wished to be part of this new wild free-spending lifestyle. Some of these love scandals were covered in newspapers all over the country. Get Davy Crockett's new book, Frank Hart: The First Black Ultrarunning Star. In 1879, Hart broke the ultrarunning color barrier and then broke the world six-day record with 565 miles, fighting racism with his feet and his fists. Fannie Edwards’ Love Triangle Brewster Hall In 1879, Fannie Edwards (1856-) of New York City, born in Portland Maine, burst onto the stage of pedestrianism when she succeeded in walking 3,000 quarter miles in 3,000 quarter hours at Brewster Hall in New York City on March 20, 1879. But along with her fame came scandal. She became quickly involved in a love triangle. She had been seen in public with Frank Leonardson for several months in the New York City area.  Frank, also a pedestrian, was described as very good looking. He served as her trainer during her successful month-long walk.  Fannie was described as “quite young, below the medium height and of slight 100 pounds, almost fragile physique. She has large lustrous brown eyes, an abundance of dark hair, and well-rounded features, suffused with the glow of health.” In March 1879, Frank’s wife of seven years, Delia Leonardson, filed for abandonment and wanted some of his estimated $800 of pedestrian winnings for the support of their two children.  Frank was arrested and a trial was held. “Lenardsen admitted the marriage and desertion, but said he could hardly support himself, but was willing to do whatever he could for his wife.” He claimed that he had only earned $31 as Fannie’s trainer but made no mention of his previous success as a pedestrian. He had started competing in May 1878, in a 36-hour race, as a member of the Scottish American Athletic Club in New York City. He could balance a quart bottle filled with beef tea on his head as he walked. They had been likely involved for a year. “It was learned during the hearing that Miss Edwards induced him to forsake his wife for her company, sharing her earnings with him.” She had even hired his lawyer for the trial. Fannie Edwards The judge ruled that Frank must pay his wife $200 and pay $3 per week for alimony. “Fannie screamed, ‘Is that all?’ with delight and surprise. She then bounded, brushed past Mrs. Lenardsen, and offered her gold watch and chain, her necklace, bracelets, and earrings to the court as security to have Frank released.” The judge said, “The court is not a pawn shop for lovers.” She then wrote out a check for the $200 and $156 for a year of support, and said, “That’s cheap enough, I’d pay a thousand dollars to be rid of her.” Delia was left in a corner of the courtroom “crying as if her heart would break.” Frank and Fannie Edwards went off together. To get away from the scandal, they went to California to compete. At some point during their relationship, Frank took on the stage name of “Frank L. Edwards,” and they told people in California that he was Fannie’s brother. They weren’t discrete enough, the press noticed that Fannie soon had a diamond ring that they figured out came from Frank. But evidently their relationship only lasted a few months more. Fannie Edwards Destroys Another Marriage Greenpoint, Brooklyn, New York Fannie Edwards was not through destroying marriages. William A. Cousins (1858-1880),

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch With the great success of ultrarunning (known as pedestrianism) in the 1880s, and the millions of dollars of legal wagering involved, corruption raised its ugly head in the sport. “Match Fixing,” was the most common form of corruption used. This practice made it possible for bookmakers to maximize their profits. Sports scholar Mike Huggins wrote, “The fixing of sports events has a history that is probably as old as organized sport. Persons off the field directed match fixing to make often illegal financial gains using a mixture of legal and illegal sports betting platforms, sharing some of that profit with those connected to the sport who executed the fix on the field.” In this nineth part of the Ultrarunning Stranger Things series, some strange stories are shared about attempts to fix pedestrian matches. They are only the “tip of the iceberg” for what was taking place. Get Davy Crockett's new book, Frank Hart: The First Black Ultrarunning Star. In 1879, Hart broke the ultrarunning color barrier and then broke the world six-day record with 565 miles, fighting racism with his feet and his fists. Bill Daly Runs for Six Days Without Fatigue Denver in 1880 In 1894, a strange story was published in the Washington Post about a six-day race that occurred in 1880, in Denver, Colorado. The story was widely published and affected public opinion about the sport and the corruption involved.  The six-day race was organized by Mark Montgomery Thall (1858-1901) and James Henry Love (1852-1902), celebrated agents and promoters with a firm in Denver. Previously, together they established Forester’s Theater, one of the first in Denver. Thall was born in Montgomery, Alabama and went to California with his family in 1865. After living in Placerville for four years, he ran away from home and joined the circus at the age of eleven. He rose to become one of the best-known theatrical men in the country. Mark Thall Thall and Love were referred to as “hustlers” and had been involved in organizing six-day races as early as 1879 in San Francisco where he was arrested for running off with $85 of the proceeds. The following year he went to Denver and established a theatrical business with J. H. Love called “Love, Thall & Co.” Old Sport Campana The race in Denver was held in a big tent on a track going around the edge with raised seats in the middle. About sixteen runners started including Peter Napoleon “Old Sport” Campana (1836-1906) and others. A rookie started that no one really knew – Bill Daly, who did not look very strong. Another local runner participated, “Rocky Mountain Sam” who traveled around the track with an impressive long stride. The race was popular and kept the tent full with spectators. By day four, young Daly caught up with the leader, Rocky Mountain Sam. “The pace had been so swift that day, that Sam was all used up. His feet were swollen, and he was sick, but he kept up after Daly.”  Most of the other runners had dropped out, it was a two-man race, or so they thought. After a rest, everyone was amazed how Daly would come out so fresh, skipping around and whistling “Yankee Doodle.” Sam’s backers encouraged him and even had a brass band march along with him. On the last day, a large crowd came to watch the finish. “It got down to the last hour. Bill Daly was running easy and gaining one lap in five on poor old Sam.” In the end Daly won by over 40 miles and received a check for $3,000. The Hoax is Discovered However, something seemed wrong, and Sam made an investigation. “It didn’t take him long to find out that it was a fixed race. You see that damned Bill Daly was twins. His twin brother Jim looked just like him to a dot. Bill would walk until he got tired and then he would go into the tent, and in an hour or so, Jim would come out. Neither one of them could walk much, or they would have beat the world record.”

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch The strange story of ultrarunner Richard Lacouse has never been told before. Piecing together his unusual life story was an adventure in itself. He was once a famous, elite, ultrarunner/pedestrian from Boston during the late 19th century, one of the most prolific six-day pedestrians during the early years of the sport. As with other runners of his time who amassed a fortune in winnings, he chose to use that money for nefarious purposes, rather than for good. His life turned from a race around a track for six days, to a race to stay ahead of the law and to dodge one of the most skilled detectives in the country. In his wake he left behind abuse and corruption until deciding to make an honest living in Montana in the mine industry to conclude his life. Get Davy Crockett's new book, Frank Hart: The First Black Ultrarunning Star. In 1879, Hart broke the ultrarunning color barrier and then broke the world six-day record with 565 miles, fighting racism with his feet and his fists. Early Circus Life Parents: Joseph and Emelie Lacourse Richard “Dick” Amos Lacouse (1848-1923), a French Canadian, was born in 1848, in Sainte-Marcell, Quebec, Canada. He was the son of Joseph Octave Lacourse (1825-1876), a carpenter, and Emelie Guilbert (1826-1892), the oldest of eight children.  His Lacourse ancestors had lived in Quebec, Canada for many generations. By 1870, the family moved to Fall River, Massachusetts. Once he reached adulthood, Richard left home seeking adventure and athletic performances, and for unknown reasons dropped the “r” in his last name for half of his life. He claimed that he became acquainted with Charles Blodin (1824-1897), a man who had shocked the world by walking over Niagara Falls on a tight rope in 1859. Blodin taught Lacouse how to rope walk, but the young man gave it up after a serious fall during an exhibition. He next became a trapeze performer for several years, claiming to be a star in P.T. Barnum’s circus. In 1873, he gave up the circus, settled in Boston, Massachusetts, married Catherine Buckley (1844-), and started a fish market.  The business venture failed, and he became a bricklayer. Lacouse first appeared in newsprint in 1875, not for a great accomplishment. He was arrested and accused of stealing $150 worth of property from various people outside of Boston. He was living in the slums of Boston, where he worked as a bouncer and bartender in various houses of ill-repute. Beantown Pedestrian In May 1879, at the age of 31, Lacouse made his debut in pedestrianism when he participated in the first big ultrarunning event in Boston, Massachusetts. It was an interstate pedestrian tournament relay race between teams from Massachusetts, Maine, and Rhode Island. It was also called, “The Bean Pot Tramp” held in a mammoth tent at the Riding Academy in Back Bay, Boston. Barton Street, Boston With the popularity of pedestrianism taking fire, Lacouse decided to try out for the big event. It was reported, “he said he was undersized at that time, but his legs were hard as iron and sinews of steel wire. The tryout was a revelation to the management of the tournament which immediately bargained with Lacouse to join the Massachusetts team.” He was described as weighing 135 pounds, standing at 5’7”, a “stocky Frenchman,” who lived on Barton Street in Boston. Each state’s team consisted of 12 runners. Each day, for six days, two runners on each team would run for six hours each. Maine came out on top, but Lacouse, often referred to as “the Frenchman,” ran more than 35 miles during his turn which was the second furthest of all the runners in the competition, earning him $75. For the final week of the tournament, he competed in a six-day walking match with 20 others. He put on an impressive performance. “Lacouse is still in the lead. He is a wonderful specimen of humanity. His feet are badly blistered,

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch On April 24, 1897, ultrarunning/pedestrian champion Alice Robison was running in second place on the last day of a three-day race held at the Fifth Street Rink in East Liverpool, Ohio, with five runners. She was very intent on catching her long-time friend who was a few laps ahead of her. Needing a rest, she retired to her room provided at the Hotel Grand next door. That afternoon, a man came into town on a train from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The mustached man wore a new suit with a price tag still attached, and a white hat with a black band. He went to the hotel and inquired where Alice was staying. He ascended the stairs and went to the third-story room. Shortly after, a gunshot was heard! The porter of the hotel rushed into the room and found the woman on the floor bleeding from a gunshot wound in her head and saw the man leaning over her, holding a revolver.  How could this happen, an ultrarunner was murdered during a race! Please help the ultrarunning history effort continue by signing up to contribute a little each month through Patreon. https://www.patreon.com/ultrarunninghistory Jones family in 1870 census Alice Robison’s true name was Agnes Jane Jones (1860-1897). She was from Pittsburgh Pennsylvania, the oldest of eleven children, a daughter of a coal miner. She married very young to James Waters, a coal miner, had three children, and later divorced. In 1882, at the age of 22, she next married again to Zachariah S. Robison (1851-1906). Robison family in 1880 census with first wife Alice was Zachariah’s second wife. His first wife, Martha Alexandria (1854-1881) from Kentucky, died in 1881 at the youthful age of 27, leaving behind four children who had gone to live with their Robison grandparents. Alice eventually took on the role of mother and stepmother to all these seven children ages 3-12, and then had two more of her own, Robert (1883-) and Georgia (1886-) for nine children in the home on a small farm. Zachariah Robison Beallsville, Pennsylvania, where Robisons lived Alice's new husband, Zachariah Robison, was born in 1851. His Robison ancestors came from Ireland and settled in Beallsville, Pennsylvania, about 30 miles south of Pittsburgh, where his father was a cabinet maker. Of Zachariah it was said, “from the time he was 5-6 years old, he was puny and sickly and frequently had epileptic fits.” When his mother Susan Robison (1831-1906) would discipline him, he would fall to the floor in convulsions and remain unconscious. Once married to Alice in 1883, the Robison family moved around to various places in the west suburbs of Pittsburgh across the Ohio River. Alice became the boss of the family and was in control of all the family finances, including property in Crofton, Pennsylvania rumored to be worth $10,000. She worked hard as a washerwoman and house cleaner. Both Zachariah and Alice had drinking problems and would get drunk causing difficulties in the family. The oldest son David S. Robison (1871-1931), when age 15 in 1886, did not like the manner of life led by his father and stepmother Alice, so he left home and learned the trade of a tailor. Becoming a Professional Boxer In 1887, Alice started to take boxing lessons.  She was very strong and weighed about 165 pounds. A newspaper article revealed her motivation for learning how to fight. She was in serious conflict with Hattie Stewart, a boxing champion who her first husband had become infatuated with years earlier. Alice wanted to fight her in some sort of dual. Zachariah was even trying to put up a $1,000 bet that she would win the fight. An editorial stated, "We have no concern whatever as to which woman comes off victorious, but if some fellow would just wallup Robison until he couldn't see straight for a month, we should experience a restful pleasure." Zachariah also took lessons and the two would box each other.

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch On a summer morning in 1883 in midtown Manhattan, New York City, a young boy ran down 34th Street, getting the attention of a policeman. He cried out, “A man has killed some folks.”  Officer John Hughes ran with the boy to a new saloon that recently opened. There he saw a man, pale, and trembling. He found out that the man was George Noremac, one of the most famous ultrarunners/pedestrians in the country. Noremac led the officer up two flights of stairs to the apartment where he lived. On the dining room floor lay two dead bodies, Noremac’s young wife, Elizabeth, and his longtime friend and trainer, George Beattie. A revolver lay on the floor near Beattie's left hand. The murder and suicide occurred while Noremac was downstairs, but his two young children, still crying, had sadly witnessed it all.  How could this have happened? Get Davy Crockett's new book, Frank Hart: The First Black Ultrarunning Star. In 1879, Hart broke the ultrarunning color barrier and then broke the world six-day record with 565 miles, fighting racism with his feet and his fists. George Duncan “Noremac” Cameron (1852-1922) was born in Edinburgh, Scotland in 1854.  He was the oldest of nine children. His father, John Cameron (1834-1902) was a lithographic printer, and George took up the same occupation. Lithography artwork was becoming very popular because it could create many copies of portraits for a reasonable cost. As a young adult George became interested in running in 1872 at the age of 20. His first achievement was winning a one-mile race in 5:13 at Powder Hall Grounds, Edinburgh, Scotland.  He quickly became recognized as one of the best sprinters in Scotland and would compete in various one-mile races during town fairs, always placing high. He improved his one-mile personal best to 4:21 and won three-mile races too. In 1875 at the age of twenty-two, George married eighteen-year-old Elizabeth Edwards (1855-1883). She was also born in Edinburgh, growing up in a large family of nine children. Her father was a pastry and candy maker. Elizabeth also learned the candy-making business. She gave birth to four children in Scotland, Alexander Edward Cameron (1877-1946) and daughter Jessie Brown Cameron (1880-1952), and two others who died as infants. Elizabeth was described as “a short, stout woman, with regular features, light complexion and pleasing manners, with blue eyes and brown hair.” Entering Pedestrianism Sport My new book! Grand Canyon Rim to Rim History In 1879, long-distance pedestrianism started to get intense attention in Scotland as Edward Payson Weston barnstormed Great Britain, putting on walking exhibitions and competing in races. With so many others, George entered the sport that year. He was a small man, ideal for long-distance running, standing only 5’3”” and weighing about 122 pounds. He decided to take on the stage name of “Noremac” which is Cameron spelt backwards. He did not originate the idea of using his transposed name as an alias. Other Camerons before him had also used the Noremac alias both in Scotland and America. George Hazael Noremac’s earliest known ultra-distance race came in July 1879. He ran in a 26-hour, outdoor six-day running tournament, at the Aberdeen Recreation Grounds in Inches, Scotland. Contestants ran four hours a day and six hours on the last day. It was put on by the 100-mile world record holder, George Hazael of London. “By the finish, an immense concourse of people had congregated within the enclosure, who seemed to take on eager interest in the competition, cheering one or other of the competitors whenever a spurt was made.” Noremac reached an impressive 156 miles. Noremac continued to win nearly every race. In January 1880, a two-day (12-hours per day) race was held at Perth, Scotland in Drill Hall. There were 23 starters. The track was very tiny, 31 laps to a mile.

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch In 1882 it was declared, “The six-day walking matches are the sickest swindles gamblers have yet invented for defrauding a virtuous public.” Well, many of both the public and the running participants were not the most virtuous people on the planet at that time, contributing to the wild strange stories that continually occurred related to the sport of ultrarunning/pedestrianism. My new book! Grand Canyon Rim to Rim History Also, this opinion expressed in the New York Herald was common, “A six-day walking match is a more brutal exhibition than a prize fight or a gladiatorial contest. In the last half of a six-day walk, nearly every contestant is vacant minded or literally crazy, he becomes an unreasoning animal, whom his keepers find sometimes sullen, sometimes savage, but never sensible.” During this era from 1875-1909, at least 400 six-day races were competed worldwide with millions of paid spectators. The stranger things that occurred related to the sport of that age were a collection of surprises and tragedies. John Dermody Joins a Women’s Six-day Race Brooklyn, 1880 In December 1879, John Dermody, age 45, was a homeless lemon peddler in Brooklyn, New York. The six-day race ultrarunning/pedestrian fever was raging in America. He believed that his business had hardened his leg muscles with great strength and that he would make an excellent professional pedestrian, and he longed to compete in one of the dozens of races that were being held in the New York City area that year. Dermody could not find anyone to back him financially and help him pay an entrance fee to a race. A Women’s International Six-Day Tournament was scheduled for December 15-20, 1879, in Madison Square Garden with 26 entrants. As it approached, Dermody became so interested in it that he had been unable to think or talk of anything else. Saloon site today On the Sunday afternoon before the start, Dermody entered the Darwin & Kindelon saloon at 507 Third Avenue, drinking perhaps too much and jabbering about the sport of walking, wishing that he could see the start of the women’s tournament. Darwin, a known practical joker, asked Dermody how he would like to enter this contest.  “Dermody seemed perfectly delighted. His acceptance of the proposition was hailed by some practical jokers as a good chance for amusement, and they at once began to improvise a female wardrobe which would conceal his sex. His flowing reddish beard was shaved off in a neighboring barber shop, and he was dressed in a calico skirt and spotted jacket.” They added a pair of long stockings, a handkerchief around his head, a blue veil around his neck, and three yards of white gauze to make a sash to hide his face.  They made a bib number with “32” to be suspended from his neck. Ready to go, his new backers took him to Madison Square Garden where the race was about to start. Out on the Track “The party hid his raiment under an overcoat as they entered and unshrouding him in a sequestered part of the place. That done, they slipped him under the railing out on the track and away he sped, with his arms going like windmills and his raiment flying out behind him like a comet. A batch of the authentic contestants had just passed, and the counterfeit put on a spurt to overhaul them.” A roar of laughter arose as the audience began to discover what was going on. Around the track he went in a happy-go-lucky style, trying to catch up to the leader. Just as he was finishing the first lap, Sergeant Keating of the 29th precinct, observant that the bib number 32 didn’t make sense because there were only 26 starters, stepped on the track to arrest Dermody. Arrest “It was no easy matter catching up with the phenomenal contestant, but the Sergeant at length brought Dermody’s pace down to a walk and made a circuit of the track in his captor’s custody.” He locked him up for the night at the precinct.

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Read the full story of Frank Hart in my new book: Frank Hart: The First Black Ultrarunning Star In 1879, just twelve years after the Civil War ended, Frank Hart of Boston, Massachusetts, became the first black running superstar in history, and the most famous black athlete in America. In a sense, he was the Jackie Robinson of the sport of ultrarunning in the 19th century, overcoming racial barriers to compete at the highest level in the world, in the extremely popular spectator sport of ultrarunning/pedestrianism. Frank Hart’s full story has never been told before. It is an important story to understand, both for the amazing early inclusiveness of the sport, and to understand the cruel racist challenges he and others faced as they tried to compete with fairness and earn the respect of thousands. He was the first black ultrarunner to compete and win against whites in high-profile, mega-mile races. This biography also presents twenty-three years (1879-1902) of the amazing pedestrian era history as experienced by Hart when ultradistance running was the most popular spectator sport in the country. He competed in at least 110 ultras, including eleven in Madison Square Garden, where he set a world record, running 565 miles in six days in front of tens of thousands of spectators and wagerers.  During his running career, he won the equivalent of $3.5 million in today’s value. NOTE: This tale must be viewed through the historic lens of nearly 150 years in the past. It will present news article quotes using the words and labels used in that era, that today are now universally viewed as racist, heartless, and offensive. But by stepping back in time, one can appreciate the courage and determination that Frank Hart experienced in a world that at times tried to work against him. Items in quotations are taken directly from newspaper articles of the era.  Also note, this multi-part series is an abridgement of the book, Frank Hart: The First Black Ultrarunning Star. Frank H. Hart (1856-1908) was believed to have been born in Haiti, in 1856. He said his given name was Fred E. Hichborn, although on several legal documents in the years before he started running, and throughout his life, he stated his name was Frank Hart. He said that his parents were Joseph Hart and Elizabeth (Mallory) Hart. It is likely that the Harts adopted him. “Frank Hart” was not just a stage name. Adult School, West End Boston Hart's family immigrated to the west end of Boston, Massachusetts in 1866, after the Civil War ended, while Hart was a boy of about ten years.  Why Boston? Haiti had been experiencing political turmoil and revolts for several years. The West End of Boston at that time was one of the few areas of the country where blacks were allowed to have a political voice. In the years following the civil war, many blacks from the South migrated to Boston. More than 60% of Boston’s black population lived in the West End. It would be the future home of the Museum of African American History. As a young man in Boston, during the 1870s, Hart worked as a grocery clerk, teamster, fireman and did “general jobbing,” developing into a talented athlete, and became an American citizen in 1878. He competed as an amateur in single sculling rowing competitions at Silver Lake in Tewksbury, Massachusetts, where he demonstrated “remarkable staying qualities as an oarsman.” Pedestrianism became popular in black communities. In April 1876, John Briscow called “the colored pedestrian” attempted a 50-hour walk without sleep or rest in a billiard saloon, in Washington D.C. He swelled up and had to quit six hours short. In March 1879, a 25-hour race was conducted in Baltimore, Maryland, for all the "colored pedestrians" in the area. Black pedestrians competing against whites was still a rare occurrence. Hart Enters the Sport, Crossing the Racial Barrier Cambridge Street, Boston

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Read the full story of Frank Hart in my new book: Frank Hart: The First Black Ultrarunning Star Frank Hart, at age 22, broke through racial barriers with his fourth-place finish in the 5th Astley Belt Race in Madison Square Garden, held in September 1879. Despite being black, Hart became a local hero in his hometown of Boston, Massachusetts. He had proven himself worthy of praise, competing on the grandest sporting stage in the world. The ultrarunning/pedestrian promoters, backers, and bookmakers had allowed for diversity in this most popular spectator sport in America of that time. But was an American public ready to accept a black champion, just 15 years since the end of the bloody Civil War, with racial bigotry still prevalent in nearly all aspects of society? Hart, an immigrant from Haiti (see Part 1), had not grown up in slavery, and had the determination to reach the highest level of the sport in 1880, if he would be allowed. After the good training he received from O’Leary, and with his recent success, fame, and fortune, he was ready to go out on his own. He hired his own trainer/handler, John D. Oliver (1860-1914), age 19, who became better known as “Happy Jack Smith.” Smith was originally from Richmond, Virginia, born to Irish parents. Within months he became recognized as the best pedestrian trainer in America. He developed a reputation for being able to keep his runners in the competition to the bitter end. J. J. Gottlob Hart also needed a manager/agent. He again turned to a very young, unproven, but dynamic talent.  He hired nineteen-year-old Jacob Julius “J.J.” Gottlob (1860-1933). Gottlob, a commercial traveler and theater man with west coast ties, took interest in pedestrianism. He would become known as the “Dean of Pacific Coast Theater managers.”  As he acquired money, he would be Hart’s backer for several years. The Rose Belt With these two young men to look after him, in December 1879, Hart went to compete at the next big six-day tournament, the “Great International Six-Day Race” or “Rose Belt” held in Madison Square Garden in New York City. The manager of the race was Daniel Eugene Rose (1846-1927) of New York City, a pedestrian promoter and owner of the D. E. Rose cigarette manufacturing company. This was perhaps the largest six-day race in history with 65 starters. An expensive Rose Belt, valued at $400, was created for the winner, with seven rectangular sections. The center section included a globe with running figures and colored flags, and the words, “American International Champion of the World.” About 200 scorers were employed. Scores were displayed on dials for each runner. Each runner had a big number both on their chest and on their back. Hart was not the only black runner in the field, there were three others, Edward Williams of New York City, Paul Molyneaux Hewlett (1856-1891) of Boston, and William H. Jacob Pegram (1846-1913) of Boston, who would often run together with Hart on laps.  Pegram was a former slave from Sussex, Virginia. He won a small 60-hour race in Brighton, Massachusetts against whites, a month before Hart started competing. Pegram spoke in a thick southern black dialect that at times was mocked by the press. After the first day, December 22, 1879, Hart was in second place with 117 miles. On day two, after Peter J. Panchot (1841-1917), of Buffalo, New York, withdrew from the race, Hart took over first place. By evening, only 48 of the 65 starters remained in the race. Christian Faber On Christmas Eve, day three, the race continued, and Hart lost the lead in the evening to Christian Faber (1848-1908), of Newark, New Jersey, when he went to get some sleep. Grumbles were heard by those with wagers on Hart, worried that he would not return.  But Hart had not had very much sleep and needed it badly. He returned at midnight to kick off day four.

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Read the full story of Frank Hart in my new book: Frank Hart: The First Black Ultrarunning Star In 1880, Frank Hart, age 23, was recognized as one of the top ultrarunners/pedestrians in the world. But after a life-threatening illness, many speculated that he would never return to his dominant form. He had also gone through a life-changing transition by accumulating more wealth in one year than most men acquired in a lifetime, and he was freely spending his fortune. Make sure you read/listen/watch parts one and two. Hart’s six-day world record of 565 miles had been broken by Charles Rowell (1852-1909) of England by one mile in November 1880, which deeply bothered Hart. In January 1881, he accepted a challenge from Rowell to meet head-to-head later in the year. That became his focus and he tried to get back into world championship shape. But then another rival appeared on the scene full of racist hatred. Racism from a Competitor John Hughes John “Lepper” Hughes (1850-1921) of New York did not hide his racist hatred for Hart. He had been a “poor day laborer” before he found success in pedestrianism. He was born in Roscrea, Tipperary, Ireland, and was the son of a competitive runner. When he was a boy, he was a fast runner, won some races, and could run close to hounds in fox hunts. With no formal education, he emigrated to America in 1868 at eighteen, became a citizen, and worked for the city of New York in Central Park. It was said that he was “stubborn as a government mule.” He was called, “the Lepper” because of his peculiar way of walking with an odd jumping gait. 2nd Astley Belt Race - O'Leary and Hughes Hughes was known for his temper and often showed inappropriate behavior in races. He desperately wanted to be recognized as the champion pedestrian of the world. It was reported, “Hughes is a boastful and ignorant fellow, with a fine physique and unlimited confidence in his powers.” He had a deep personal hostility against fellow Irish American, Daniel O’Leary, who had beaten him soundly in the Second Astley Belt Race in 1878. Hughes blamed his backers for purposely poisoning his milk and swindling him out of all his prize money. Hughes in International O'Leary Belt Since then, Hughes had experienced some success but had failed to win any of the big six-day races. His best six-day mark was 520 miles, when he finished sixth at the Rose Belt Race in 1879, won by Hart. But finally, on January 29, 1881, Hughes had the finest race of his career when he broke the six-day world record, achieving 568 miles in the “First O’Leary International Belt Race” held at the American Institute Building in New York City. Hart did not compete in the race, choosing instead to get ready to defend the original “American” O’Leary Belt, to be held the following month. As the Third O’Leary Belt approached, Hughes desperately wanted to win that O’Leary belt too and beat Hart. He boasted he would cover 600 miles. Hart and Hughes Fight In 1881, Bernard Wood’s Gymnasium and Athletic Grounds on North 9th and 2nd Street (Wythe Ave) in Brooklyn, New York, was a popular place for runners to train on an indoor sawdust track. In February 1881, both Hart and Hughes used the track to train for the upcoming O’Leary Belt. Hughes would often yell hate-filled racist slurs at Hart. Hart had nothing good to say about Hughes. One Sunday afternoon, while both were training there, they competed in an ego-based sprint together, which Hughes won. Hart joked that at the upcoming match there would be no poison soup, referring to Hughes’ excuse for losing the Second Astley Belt. He added he would beat Hughes at the upcoming match. “Hughes turned around and shouted, ‘You lie, you black (n-word).’ Saying this, he struck Hart with a powerful blow under the chin. Hart fell flat on his back but was up again in an instant and hit Hughes over the right eye.

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Read the full story of Frank Hart in my new book: Frank Hart: The First Black Ultrarunning Star Frank Hart’s life in 1883 was at a low point. He had squandered his riches and damaged his reputation as a professional pedestrian. He was viewed as being hot-headed, undisciplined, and a womanizer. His wife and children were no longer being mentioned as being a part of his life and by then were likely gone. Many people had tried to help him, even his original mentor, Daniel O’Leary, who called him “ungrateful.” Trainers did not last long working with him. Hart was no longer referred to by the flattering title of “Black Dan.” Certainly, some of the criticism against him was because of racial stereotypes, which he fought hard against. He wanted to regain the glory and fame he had felt in previous years. To make things worse, he had a young woman, Frances “Fanny” C. Nixon, arrested, accusing her of stealing a diamond ring from him valued at $526. The press was quick to point out that a black man was accusing a white woman, unheard of at the time. She had met him at his 1880 world record race at Madison Square Garden and they developed a relationship. He claimed that the night before he left for England in 1881, she had stolen the ring from his vest pocket. She countered that he had given it to her as a gift before he left. She admitted that she later sold it to a pawnbroker for $250. The court released her on bail and apparently the case was soon dismissed or settled. California Here Hart Comes On November 8, 1883, Hart left Boston to travel to California for the first time. Money in pedestrian contests was becoming harder to find, and it was hoped that the West Coast would deliver. He was invited to compete in a six-day race in San Francisco with O’Leary, and two Californians, Charles A. Harriman, and Peter McIntyre, in what was called a “four-cornered” match. The East Coast team’s miles would go against the West Coast team. They put in a rule against any “hustle, push, impedance, or interruption with any other contestant” because of Hart’s known aggressive conduct in races. Hart Gives a False Identity Hart received a grand reception in California and became an instant celebrity. San Francisco wrote, “Hart, the negro pedestrian, is coming to this city. He will be given a reception by the colored people.” He was met at the ferry landing by a band and escorted to the Pacific Life newspaper rooms, where he was given a banquet. But Hart, wanting even more attention, characterized himself as a wealthy lawyer. An article was printed stating that he was a member of the Boston Bar. “Owing to an unfortunate stutter, Hart is a poor pleader, but his opinions on legal matters are so sought for that he is able to hire a pleader to present his ideas in court.” The lawyer news surprised the Boston Globe, and it implied that the claim was fiction. He also stretched the truth of his recent six-day accomplishments, claiming that he held the current world record. The New York Sportsman got wind of Hart’s “lawyer profession,” claim, and a correction was later printed in a San Francisco newspaper. The New York editor wrote, “Hart may be a great lawyer–we have never heard him plead for other than a release from a creditor. Before reading the story of Hart’s great ability as a lawyer, we thought his fame rested chiefly on his reputation as a pedestrian and a masher (a man who chases after women).” California Four-Cornered Six-day Race Mechanic's Pavilion The San Francisco Four-Cornered race began right after midnight on Nov 21, 1883, in Mechanics’ Pavilion. At the end of day four, the match was tight. Hart had a one-mile lead with 370 miles and his team score with O’Leary led by only five miles. A gossip paper wrote, “Hart has nearly all the time from two to a half-dozen white female visitors in his tent, and on the track,

By Davy Crockett You can read, listen, or watch Read the full story of Frank Hart in my new book: Frank Hart: The First Black Ultrarunning Star By 1888, Hart had competed in about 30 six-day races in nine years. He had reached 100 miles or more in about 40 races and had so far won at least 30 ultras. Perhaps because of his color, he had not been given enough credit as being a dominant champion during his career. There certainly were some who were better six-day pedestrians, but he was at least in the top-10 of his era. Racist labels against blacks such has “laziness” were often heaped on him, which bothered him terribly. He worked very hard. How could anyone who competed in six-day races be referred to as lazy? He did have a serious problem with his finances and likely had a gambling addiction. He looked for new ways to make money in the sport, including race organizing and had been criticized for not paying runners fairly. He was so mad at the reaction that he vowed that he was retiring from the sport. Get Davy Crockett's new book, Strange Running Tales: When Ultrarunning was a Reality Show. This book highlights the most bizarre, shocking, funny, and head-scratching true stories that took place in extreme long-distance running, mostly during a 30-year period that began about 1875. O’Brien’s Six Day Race Hart's retirement did not last long. He entered the next big international six-day race held on May 7, 1888, in Madison Square Garden. For this race, 96 men entered and 44 started. One rejected runner claimed he could go 750 miles. In this race was, George Littlewood (1859-1912) of Sheffield, England, the world record holder for walking 531 miles in six days, reached 100 miles in less than 16 hours. After the first day, Hart was already more than 20 miles behind. On the morning of day two, after running 122 miles, in seventh place, Hart was said to look lazy and quit the race as he was falling in the standings. He realized that he would not finish in the money. Littlewood went on to win with 611 miles. Throughout 1888, Hart competed in several 75-hour races in New York, Connecticut, Delaware, and Pennsylvania, winning most of them, but earning less than hoped for. Feeling rejected by Boston, he now claimed to be from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Fox Diamond Belt Six Day Race Hart competed in the most historic six-day race in history, held November 26-December 1, 1888, in Madison Square Garden. There were 100 race entries, but they approved only 40 starters. Richard Kyle Fox (1846-1922), editor and publisher of the sporting publication, The Police Gazette, put it on. Leading up to the race, Hart trained at the Polo Grounds in Upper Manhattan each day “under the watchful eyes of trainers and admirers” with several other entrants, including Littlewood. It would be the last six-day race held in the original Madison Square Garden, previously called Gilmore’s Garden, and P.T. Barnum’s Hippodrome, made from an old train depot. The old building would begin to be demolished on August 7, 1889. It was located on the block that currently holds the New York Life Building. The Start Nearly 10,000 people filled the building for the start with 37 contestants. Through the first night, it became obvious why the building needed to be replaced. “The ring in the center of the garden looked as if it had been swept by a hurricane. Booths were overturned and the floor was flooded with melted snow, which had dropped through the crevices in the roof.” It didn’t seem to bother Littlewood, who covered 77.4 miles in the first 12 hours. Original Madison Square Garden Hart was about 12 miles behind and struggled early. “Several doses of bug juice were taken, and the Haitian youth was wobbly in the legs, and his eyes rolled in a fine frenzy for some hours.” He covered 113 miles on day one, in 11th place. Again, racist comments were made by reporters that he was being lazy.