Paper: Columbian, The (Vancouver, WA)
Title: HOOD TO COAST
Date: August 24, 1997

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."


A fitting Charles Dickens quote for 12 "Loons" who ran 196 miles in just over 28 hours in the 16th annual Nationwide Hood to Coast relay race this weekend.The best times for the Lacamas Lake Loons, of Camas, one of 875 teams that ran in the relay, were the smiling faces at the start and the supportive cheers from the crowd in Seaside, Ore., that greeted them at the finish yesterday.


The worst times encompassed the 195 miles in between.


But forget about the speeding ticket that van driver Dan Rowe picked up in St. Helens, the running shoe team member Rick Wise managed to lose midtrip and the groin muscle team captain Dean Osterman pulled on the very first leg.


These runners are Loons -- determined to finish, and more important, determined to have fun.


Only three Loons were Hood to Coast veterans. The 55-year-old Osterman picked up the rest of the team at his neighborhood Christmas party where he urged friends to participate.


Like the Lacamas Lake Loons, Hood to Coast teams have 12 runners who each run three legs ranging from 3.8 to 7.6 miles. They take off in 15-minute intervals from the start at Timberline Lodge and pass off relay-style all the way to the coast.


Most teams had two vans -- the six runners in van one ran six legs, then passed a wristband off to a van two runner, which allowed a few hours of rest for van one. That routine continued for two more full rotations for the Loons until 37-year-old Erin Morris crossed the finish line at Seaside just after 2 p.m. Saturday.


The Loons, one of more than 50 Clark County teams that ran the race, stayed optimistic throughout their legs, even when running up long, seemingly endless hills and stumbling through dark and silent roads in the wee hours of the morning.


"Here's to pain," five Loons said at noon Saturday, raising their bloody Mary's for a toast after finishing the race.


Despite sore muscles, blisters and lack of sleep, they dragged themselves into a Seaside restaurant and started mulling around the idea of a team for next year's race over drinks and breakfast.


"I can't deny that on my last leg I swore I'd never do this again," runner Gay Rowe, 37, said. "But now that it's done I feel really good about it. It was a blast."


On yer mark, get set ...


Before the aches and pains set in, the Loons' race started at 10 a.m. at Timberline Lodge. The runners were all smiles, blowing special Loon whistles and encouraging each other.


Osterman, who ran the first grueling 5.6-mile leg of the race had to remind himself before starting that he wasn't in the race to challenge elite teams like Nike or Adidas but rather simply to finish.


But as he'd find out from other runners a few hours later, it's tough to pace yourself.


"I started out way too fast," Osterman admitted after handing off to his wife, Pat, who ran leg two. "But you just have so much adrenaline and there's so much excitement, it's hard to take it slow."


Tony Glavin, 43, said he felt like a little kid when he started out on leg four, his first leg of the relay.


"Then I started to really feel my age," he said. "I took off too fast. After I hit a wall I realized that my whole purpose was just to finish, not to win."


Most Loons had been gearing up for Hood to Coast since May, some running up to six miles twice a day. Gay Rowe started training in January -- running the relay was her New Year's resolution.


"I never thought I could run," she said after running her first leg. "I knew if I just told myself that I needed to run, that I might not always follow through. But this is something I have to perform, it gave me a reason to run regularly."


Just before Mike Keyes, 46, jumped out of the van to run leg five, he admitted that he doesn't consider himself a runner.


"I just come out here, do damage and recover for a couple of months," he said with a laugh.


Darkness falls


As the sun set, the vans became quiet. Teammates who jumped out of the vans earlier in the day to cheer each other on sat propped against van doors or sprawled out on seats.


Some Hood to Coast runners had blankets draped around them as they ran, others roped a companion into running in the dark with them.


Thirty-eight-year-old Dan Rowe ran with his wife, Gay, during her midnight run.


"I couldn't see where I was putting my feet," Gay said. "You can't tell if you're going up or down a hill, or if you're in the middle of the road. It's pitch black out there."


Pam Mudd, 35, and Jody Lernihan, 41, ran their legs at 2 and 3 a.m. Both carried mace for protection.


"At the start of my leg there were people around," Lernihan said. "Then all the sudden I was all by myself and my flashlight gave out. I'd pray for a car to come for some light, then I'd see a big old dead raccoon on the road and think, 'Man, I'm glad I saw that.' "


The teams slept for about three hours during the night. Van one slept in a field under the stars.


"Nobody snored, but we all really smelled bad -- but that's something you don't even notice after a while," Gay Rowe said.


Thank God it's over


The Loons from Van One got up slowly after eating breakfast Saturday to meet Van Two runners at the finish line. After just telling stories about running under eight-minute miles and being psyched for the runs, they slowly arose, doubled over and staggered out of the restaurant.


"Remember when we said we were fine just after we finished the race?" Susan Padgett asked. "Well, we lied."


As they stood near the finish line to join the last runner, the gung-ho van driver Dan Rowe seemed out of character. He stood silently reflecting on the race.


"It's hard to believe we really started at Mount Hood and ended up here in Seaside," he said eventually. "We came a long way, and this really puts it all in perspective."