The moon was as big and full as I’ve ever seen it, while the sun rose just opposite the moon bleeding pastel oranges and reds between two ridges. It was a cold and windy forty degrees at 8am when the thirty of us began to run. The race was billed as a no frills, no shirts, no awards, and no ceremony, fun run in some of the prettiest country so typical in this part of Texas. A harsh and rugged beauty that makes the journey so much more enjoyable. Twenty-eight miles of rolling rocky hills, seasoned with mesquite trees, salted with cactus, laced with shallow creeks, and heated to just the right temperature until done. Yes, it was as good as it gets here in the hill country.

The wind was blowing strong and cold directly into my face, so I drifted back behind another runner just like everyone else had, if only to block some of the blast. Fortunately, the course wound tightly around and through the many hills and valleys such that I rarely had to face the wind head on for very long. This course had so many water crossings that I lost count, and the first one was staring me in the face just inside the first five minutes. I wasn’t even warmed up yet and I already had to dip my nice dry toes into a creek just wide and deep enough to completely wake me up. Yes, that put a zing into my step.

The course was composed of three separate loops of varying distance and complexity, marked with yellow, blue, and white ribbons and plates. The return point after each of the three loops was the one and only manned aid station, and water had been set out at a few other places in the first two loops. The terrain was plenty rough and required quite a bit of scrambling about. Some of the ridges were barren, but much of the trail was overgrown, and I would occasionally get slapped sideways by an overhanging branch as I descended quickly, bumping and sliding past brush and rock. One climb was over-populated with cactus shrubs that stung my exposed skin. I congratulated myself while in the midst of this minefield of trouble for choosing to wear long tights due to the cold. They really paid off, although not for what I expected them to help me with. A lot of the trail was flat and fast, but then again, a lot of it was rocky and hilly. What Texas lacks in altitude, it makes up for in attitude. The climbs were short and steep, the descents primed with loose rock, and every step an adventure that could land you anywhere. I loved it! It damned sure wasn’t boring. Going from ridge to valley, my body went from too cold to too hot. The view from the summits were spectacular if not a bit cold, and many of the valleys were filled with crystal clear streams.

The first (yellow) loop only had a few water crossings and a couple of good climbs, including one ball buster that had a turn-around at the top that took me back down the same hill I had just climbed. Some of the trail was worn down into ruts and some was no more than a whisper of a trail wandered about amongst the scrub over rock and dirt. Looking ahead or behind I could see a maze of trails everywhere, but couldn’t make out any pattern that connected any two together. This part of Texas was cowboy country, known for it’s dude ranches and horse trails. I only saw a few horses out on the course, but their were plenty of other reminders of them all along the way. You could also tell that some of the routes had been created by mountain bikes taking routes that a sane person would not have created over sharp drops and fast descents. I ran and talked with a few different folks, but ended up finishing this first loop alone. The second (blue) loop started back out the way I had come in on the previous loop, but soon split off into a new direction. I had to stop a few times to recheck the trail markings, because sometimes the same trail was used for both directions, and it was easy for me to get confused. I even went back a couple of times to double check. The blue loop was my favorite, with many more climbs and finishing off with numerous water crossings as the trail followed a creek bed, switching back and forth across the creek. I loved the downhills, flying downward like a madman, slipping and sliding, yet always landing on my feet. I felt like a bear lumbering downhill, picking up speed as I launched myself to each new landing site, not consciously knowing where I was going to land until I was off the ground. My inner directional controls took over and found my feet safe harbor each time. I had but to trust my instincts, never second guessing or doubting one iota of a second. Each new downhill peaked my emotions so high that I would be laughing and screaming as I fell from the sky. What a hoot! Gimme more. The flatlands bored me to tears. The uphills where quite different but not so awful that I disliked them. It just took much more energy to roll the boulders uphill, and I was thus much slower and less exuberant. I approached the longer uphills more cautiously, walking slowly while I ate and drank. This loop also took the longest to run and I like to think it was the longest distance of the three. I passed a couple of runners going the opposite direction on this loop and was momentarily confused until I was informed that it was they who had gone the wrong way. Coming in after the 2nd of the three loops, I learned that I was in 2nd place, either by drop or wrong turn by many of those in front of me. Only Mario was still in front of me already on the final (white) loop of 7+ miles.

I refilled my water bottle and gathered up a fistful of PB&J squares, before walking out toward the final loop. I finished the sandwiches prior to running again, and managed a decent pace for a bit. This loop barely had a rise on it as it rolled through fields and jeep trails. There was one rough and tumble descent along a power line before landing back on another jeep road. Many old abandoned barns and horse shelters littered the road side through here. The course jumped from trail to road and back again, over and over again. The roads and trails were imbedded with rocks and required plenty of hopping about if you wanted to avoid them, but I chose the most direct path, cutting each tangent and thus skipping across many rock beds and uneven ground, not because I was in a hurry so much as it just seemed to be more fun. Never having the pleasure of visiting Bandera before, I had no idea where I was or how far to the finish, and I was just daydreaming as I rolled along, and then was surprised to see Mario just in front of me wading across a creek. I yelled out his name and must have startled him, because he just took off, sprinting out of the water and up the opposite bank. I was just surprised to finally see someone else and had forgotten that he was in first place. He pulled ahead, but we both had to cross the creek a few more times and the water seemed to slow him down more than me. Then I could hear him up in front of me in the trees cussing and fuming about something, and I though that something terrible had happened. I found him just pacing there back and forth by the edge of a road and a sign that said simply ‘Turn Around’. We looked around for a minute but there really was no option but to do what the sign said, so I suggested we just turn around and go back the way we came, and we did. We crossed the same creeks again back the way we came and eventually the trail split off to the left, and then we knew for certain that we were on the right trail. Mario was again quickly in front and pulling away. I had been having too much fun up to this point to suddenly start racing and I wasn’t in that sort of mood anyway, so I didn’t bother to give chase. I continued on as I had been doing when I found him. I also didn’t realize how close we were to the finish. In just a short time I could hear shouts up ahead as Mario finished, and I came in less than a minute behind him. 4:50 for 28 miles. It was truly a wonderful run and had my name written all over it. I will be back next year and could care less if I come in first or last. This was a lot of fun.