Without going into too much depth, this event was birthed back in early 2006. Quite a few buddies and I had gone to Horseshoe Canyon Ranch for the weekend to climb. This place is a wonderland of sport routes stacked on top of each other, side by side, on steep gritty sandstone cliff lines. It's a dream. So naturally a day of cragging at this location logs quite a few routes; it's not uncommon to get in 10-20 routes in a day without having to move too fast. The idea first came as a "we should see how many routes we could do in 24 hours" kinda scheme. Then it moved to a friendly competition between friends. Then a small event where we invite others. The finality came as a full-on competition with sponsors and climbers and fun. The idea was born, and I met with Barry, the owner of HCR. He gave his blessing. The rest, as they say, is history.
2009 24HHH was a beautiful event in my eyes. Recent weeks of rain had beautified the Ranch to picturesque proportions. My new wife Nicki and I had arrived late on Tuesday evening to rain, fog and high humidity. Many of our good friends from Colorado had already arrived and we were stoked to see them all, spending quite a few hours chatting on the porch. The stage was set. Countdown had begun.
But the next few days raised many unanswered questions: The recent rains had heightened my worries that we'd have a large number of wet routes. The weather forecast also gave a strong chance of rain during the event. What would we do if it rained? Had I let too many climbers into the event this year? What if 20 of the routes were wet? That would result in waiting lines at routes. Bottlenecks. In addition, I was also waiting for certain companies to send the swag (that was supposed to have been mailed 2 weeks earlier). What if it didn't come? How would the scoring go this year? Would there be hiccups? Had we streamlined it effectively? What about climber check in? Had we informed our volunteers adequately on rules? What about injuries? Would climbers be smart this year? Would we make it through without injuries? Did we truly have the right emergency procedures in place? You see, I want every person involved in 24HHH to drive away from the ranch on Sunday afternoon with a sense of satisfaction. I want everyone to have loved the event. I want everyone to be happy. If even one individual leaves the on Sunday saying "That was not very well put on", then in my eyes I have failed. I want perfection.
Fast forward to Friday: Banners hung. Climbers registration packets stuffed. Barn ready for sponsor booths. Swag organized, and here. Rain has stopped, routes drying out. Carabiners hung on high traveled routes. Packet pickup running smoothly. Pasta dinner about to begin. Waves of people arriving in the canyon. Bands setting up. Energy high.
Friday evening is a blast. HCR's chef Nick whips up some killer spaghetti for the dinner and all bellies are filled. Slackline comp is a hit, and tricks are plenty. Vendor booths are great, barn loft is packed. Speleo box time trials are epic, with big Brett being stuck for 25 minutes. They barely finish, as Big Smith is going on stage down in the natural amphitheater. Big Smith is a huge hit as a large crowd gathers for much dancing. As the music winds down, Pimpin and Crimpin winds up the party back in the barn as Lost at Sea makes due with one microphone and rocks the house. I hear the keg floated.
Saturday morning comes. I wake up to an electric buzz in the canyon. People were psyched to get this thing rolling. The sun was out, clouds and rain were gone. The sounds of climbing gear and voice chatter rings in my ear as everyone gathers around the Trading Post for the climber meeting. I look out over the sea of people to see catchy costumes, nervous faces, 24HHH veterans who know their strategies, 115 ropes, onlookers who are just here to watch, faithful volunteers, a man with a shotgun, a scenic backdrop, and 2,299 fingers that will soon be shredded to ground hamburger. A short meeting, climbers creed, volunteer meeting, and a shotgun blast and the 4th annual 24 Hours of Horseshoe Hell is underway.
What do I do for 24 Hours once the event begins? Well, I've thought it over. I could probably run the show with a two way radio from my cabin porch. Trust me, I've thought about it. It'd sure make things easier on me. No. I have to be out there. I want to see everyone. I want to feed energy. I want to talk to the competitors. See how they are feeling. Encourage. Answer questions. Make sure everyone is having fun (remember?). Make sure volunteers have everything they need. Help with check in's. Help with scoring when initial cards are turned in at 10 pm. Keep people awake. Create energy. There is much to do.
As the sun slowly starts to creep into the canyon I breathe a sigh of relief. The night had come and gone with no injuries, no accidents. We had smart climbers this year. Strong climbers this year. Energy was high, and every hour on the hour all night long a deafening chorus of yells and screams could be heard loud across the canyon as energy was renewed and psyche was strengthened. Every time it happened, a shot of electricity shot through my body and I was proud to be a part of this massive event. The camaraderie and community at 24HHH is second to none. Friendships are forged and cultivated. Perseverance is tested and won.
10 am comes and scorecards are turned in. Our scoring people work masterfully in tallying. Smooth. Time to head to the barn for awards.
As I stood in front of the 300 or so people in the barn loft on Sunday morning I saw dirty faces, used tape, exhausted bodies, and 2,299 fingers that had just sent thousands upon thousands of routes at the hardest endurance event in the United States. I was proud to just be a part of this. I handed out horseshoes to the best climbers of the day. I hoped they were proud. They should be.
Within 30 minutes Horseshoe Canyon Ranch went from a population of 500 to around 20. It was ghostly. I cleaned and gathered up, said some goodbyes, thanked many, and walked up the hill to my cabin to collapse. But I didn't. I sat on the porch with good friends talking about the weekend. I was exhausted but I couldn't sleep. I was proud.
There are countless individuals who have had a part in this past year's 24HHH success. Way too many for me to list here. It doesn't happen on this scale without you. I give a huge thanks, a deep bow, and a 10 minute standing ovation to you all.
An event of this size is a full year in the making. It's a revolving door of cycles that begin again immediately after each 24HHH has ended. Sponsors, paperwork, emails, $$$, volunteers, Facebook, www.twofourhell.com, blogs, marketing, advertising, photos, more paperwork, and logistics. I've already begun for 2010. It's gonna be bigger, no doubt. And better. With new surprises.
Do you mountain bike? What about trail run? If so, keep your ears to the ground. It's coming in 2010....
Thanks to Lucas for the photos: www.lucasmarshall.com
1 comment:
2099 fingers.... classic!
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