The Bisbee 1000

Imagine...
Running up 1034 steps.
Against the clock.
Just for the fun of it.

That's what T and I did last Saturday.

It all started with our annual 4-day Fall Break rock climbing trip......

Many years ago, T and I started out as climbing partners--T at the "rock royalty" level, myself at the "I'm just trying to figure out which end of the rope I'm supposed to use--it's the 'sharp' end, right?"

When I wasn't too busy studying for an exam, and when T was in-between climbing with all manner of cute girls from the gym--we would hold the rope for each other, and go on weekend trips around NM, AZ, CO, NV, and TX.

Since those days, we've migrated into the world of triathlon, but rock climbing has always been there, a simmering desire on the back burner playing second fiddle to our triathlon training. In fact, we haven't really been rock climbing in 3 years, except for a few sporadic climbing sessions and at least one annual trip. Climbing, like triathlon, takes consistent focus and training. We've missed our weekend trips, but haven't pursued the skill it takes, or taken the time, to really be good again.

This year we tried, once again, to tap into fall season rock climbing.
And for some reason, this year, it stuck.

Reveling in the freedom of the off season, we finished our last big tri-effort (Longhorn 70.3), took 3 days to recover (GI issues, sore muscles and all), and then Thursday, less than a week after the Longhorn race, went on our first rock climbing foray to the climbing gym in almost a year.

We had to get re-acquainted with the gym environment (now much more crowded than it was several years ago), our equipment, new people, finding different muscles, and using our bodies in an unaccustomed way.

We saw several old friends and familiar faces.

We had a great time.
And were pretty sore the next day.

Feeling like Newbies, we decided to go to Jack's canyon for a long weekend of relatively easy, fun Arizona rock. We returned to the gym 2 more times, climbing progressively higher grades, then, one week after our first foray to the gym and 10 days after Longhorn, we left Wednesday night for Arizona.

Serendipity.
Two days before the trip, I happened to glance at a magazine and saw a brief description of a running event in Bisbee, Arizona. The description went like this:

"Climb a Thousand Steps.
Put your quads to the test by entering the Bisbee 1000 stair climb. The race honors the heritage of the small Old West mining town east of Tucson--the stairs, built during the Depression by the WPA, follow old mule paths that once connected Bisbee's copper mines. The run is 5K and climbs 1034 steps and a few steep roads."

Since we were planning on being in Arizona, we didn't think twice.
"Looks like fun."
"We aren't strong enough to climb more than 2 days in a row anyways."
"Look, it says "historic" and it's about a WPA project."
"Lets bring our running gear, and see how we feel..."

And so we brought our run gear...

Jack's was absolutely beautiful and eerily deserted.
We were the only ones there--first time that has ever happened.
The full moon was gorgeous.
We picked a site, camped, and climbed for two days
Mostly 5.10, which was a grade or two higher than I had been practicing in the gym.
Two days was enough.




















1. T at the top of a 5.11c ......... 2. Abseiling the climb (on rappel)





On the second day, as we headed out of the canyon, we ran into one other party who had just arrived. Turned out to be climbing friend "D" from NM, from days long past. Small world.



We then drove to Bisbee, about 5 hours across the state, near the southern border of Arizona.



Bisbee is a cute, historic copper mining town built into the side of Mule Mountain. Population: ~ 6000; Elevation: ~ 5530'
In the early 1900's Bisbee was the largest city in the Southwest between St. Louis and San Francisco with about 20,000 people.

We camped overnight, then arrived early for 7 am race day registration at the courthouse. By the end of registration there were almost 1500 people signed up; last year there were less than 800.

Town business was still pretty much closed so we hiked up the street for a Circle K coffee and egg muffin breakfast.

The run start was to the right (downhill) of the Ironman statue. T and I started up front, in the first wave, to avoid getting caught behind the walkers. Last year, there had been waits of up to five minutes at the bottom of the stairs due to the bottle necking of so many participants. Since everyone wanted to get to the stairs first, and the run started on a downhill going into a turn, the start was a bit of a wild free-for-all. You had to have your wits about you, and watch for flailing feet and arms. One person tripped and went down hard less than 50' from the start. T was elbowed hard enough to cause a charlie-horse for several days by "a large, chubby woman who looked like she shouldn't have been in the front anyway..."

By the time we got to the first set of stairs, T had disappeared off the front, and I was bordering on anaerobic due to the fast start and being swept downhill by the get-to-the-stairs-first fervor. T says he ran up the first steps without feeling a thing. I, on the other hand, attempted to run, but quickly backed off due to the feeling that I was pushing my max, and was probably going to kill myself. This feeling persisted throughout the entire event. I don't think my heart and lungs have ever worked so hard. After I got to the top of the first set of steps, I thought, "I can't believe there are still 8 more to go. I am never going to make it." The thought of running 5K up these stairs made the distance seem like an eternity. In fact, I was breathing so hard, I could do no more than walk up the remaining 8 flights, gulping oxygen and with occasional thoughts of what if my heart can't take this?
The course took us all around Bisbee, up steps, and down curvy roads, along main street, and through some kind of factory. After the 7th flight, we had a longish road run to the back of a valley, which should have allowed recovery and a resumption of pace, but which neither T nor I were able to take advantage of. My finish was characterized by passing two women who could have been in my age group, than pouring on the 'speed', as best I could up the last 2 flights of steps, to keep them behind me. T's finish was notable for being passed by a 13 year old boy just as he was flying downhill into the finish. The boy came up to about T's rib cage and he was being coached by a paternal figure who kept yelling "Get him! Get him!"

We had thought of the run as a fun way to see Bisbee, but neither T nor I remember much except for looking at the steps right in front of us. There was live music situated in drive ways and decks along the steps and lots of people cheering us on, just by stepping outside of their houses. The finish was a whole lot of fun, free samples of Xood, energy drinks, wine tasting, and cheese, crackers, bread, and meat tasting. While waiting for the awards, we stopped into the Made in Bisbee Marketplace for shredded beef burritos and tamales, and watched the Ice Man competition, which honors the history of the men who delivered ice before there was refrigeration, by having competitors climb 155 steps while carrying a 10 pound block of ice using antique metal tongs.



Despite how difficult the race felt, T finished 2nd out of 43 in his AG, in 37:40, earning himself some hardware and a spot on the podium with Smokey the Bear.

I finished 7th out of 69 AG in 48:44.

To give you an idea of how hard this 5K is, the fastest time was 29:48.
To give you an idea of the versatility this race attracts, the youngest competitor was 6 and the oldest 83.
As for talent? I was awed by Bobby Widhalm, who at 69 years young, completed the course in 40:08, and Don Branaman, at 70, winning his age group in 44:56

All in all, we had a great weekend, driving 1100 miles in 3 days, climbing, camping, and racing. The run was a huge effort, but a whole lot of fun, and we're thinking of going back.

In closing, here is an image of T perusing a rock wall....