Book bothering at the 2023 Barkley Marathons

It seemed funnier when I ordered it…
Credit: inov-8.com / David Miller Photography

"Yeah but will you ever try the Barkley Marathons?" I was getting bored of that question.

“Is that something like a Tough Mudder?” I was asked at US passport control. At least that was a fresh one.

All the facts and myths that make the Barkley Marathons special are either all over the internet or not on it for a reason, so I won’t repeat them here. I knew I would one day try Barkley from the first time I heard of it, in about 2013 from local running pal, Bath Bat and bad idea-hawker Alex Copping. Finally, for 2023, after two years on the weight (sic) list, I was in. There are very few races I will consider flying to, because of the CO2e emissions. But I broke a three-year flight-free streak for this one.

Recovery from the Spine Race had gone very well (I’m fortunate to have a genius coach). However, I lack a reputation for exemplary navigation. The problem is, I enjoy getting topographically misplaced. That’s how you have adventures. I can navigate some (I’ve done fell-running rounds solo in winter at record pace). But I’m just not as good as the map geeks. I like getting lost. It's fun.

But for Barkley I needed to be able to find a specific tree in a wood in the dark. So in the small window from the Spine, I went out in woods at night with cow-bothering, fellow Bat and nav whiz Tim Laney, did local orienteering courses and a night orienteering race in the Forest of Dean. My nav skills and confidence in them, while not immaculate, were improved.

My great tea-dodging friend-foe John Kelly was very generous in the week before the race, taking me to local eateries (it soon became clear I’d need to relax my vegan preferences for my visit, partly due to lack of options, partly due to lust for Sonic's cinnamon rolls). He also took me on a useful tour of Frozen Head’s ‘candy-ass’ trails, including meeting a grumpy rattlesnake. However only about a third of the Barkley is on trails. You’re not allowed to recce the off-trail bits. The only way to recce Barkley is to do Barkley.

John was generous with pointers, but I didn’t know the actual route or book locations. Though it was more beautiful than expected, Frozen Head looks the same everywhere: steep brown woods. US maps are a pale imitation of OS versions. The State Park is just loads of contour lines in woods, hardly any features bar occasional rivers. Plus those legendary Barkley names such as Rat Jaw, Little Hell and Leonard's Buttslide aren't on maps. Talking of which, we met Leonard, who has 29 Barkley starts and a two-lap PB. “I always thought I’d have a better year," he said. "Make the most of it, take risks, push if you have to!”

We were joined for a delicious Southern breakfast on Kelly Farm by Spinksy, Emma Stuart, Jasmin Paris, Konrad Rawlik, five-time Barker and my crew Jodi Isenor, John Fegyveresi and Twitter's Keith Dunn. I was star struck and that would only grow. Finally being at Frozen Head State Park’s Big Cove Campground felt giddily surreal. I was on a film set. Camp is a place where “Are you a Virgin?” isn’t just a socially acceptable question but a common one. Awe-inspiring Jared Campbell, Karel Sabbe, Joe McConaughy and Harvey Lewis were loitering about. I was expecting Barkley to feel a bit cliquey to be honest, but a very friendly Ed Furtaw (you should buy his book; The Finishers is also well skill) made me feel very welcome. It felt like Christmas. Christmas on a film set.

I was very nervous the night before though. Jodi seemed unsure how to make tea. The word squash confused the double-mo’ed Canadian. As did “chuffed”. To ease communication and international diplomacy, I started calling my bumbag a fannypack. Talking of which, Laz drinks tea! I gave the conch-botherer a box of Yorkshire Gold, though he hinted his wife might make off with it.

The Veteran consensus was that the 2023 route was a tiny bit easier than 2022. The weather forecast was brill, too; cold (well below zero), but clear. This year’s theme: “The worst case scenario is only the starting point”.

Since 1986 only 15 people had finished the Barkley. Did I think I could finish at my first attempt? It didn’t seem likely. But I didn’t think it impossible, either. I would have been pleased with a Fun Run (three loops). I wanted to show that you don't have to be a scientist or engineer to complete it. Many finishers have FKTs and long-distance hiking backgrounds, too, like me.

The conch finally sounded at an almost too-civil 8.54am. I collected my new watch, necked some porridge and a gallon of strong tea. Laz conducted a Taps-assisted tribute to “missing Barkers”, lit a cigarette and 40 of us morons ran into the woods towards imminent failure…

Laz: “Is that a ferret under your hat?”
Credit: Jodi Isenor

Loop 1, CW, 08:17

A group of perhaps 15 were together for the first long steep off-trail climb, then tumbling down to book one, in two ziplock bags under rocks, near a "Volkswagen bug sized rock". A feeding frenzy was averted when Jared Campbell selflessly took the book and calmly issued pages. My first Barkley page! I was buzzing.

The next few pages were collected without fuss, the group getting smaller each time. The downhills were epic fun. Sliding/falling/tumbling down steep leaf-covered slopes, occasionally slowed by helpful trees (if they didn't break off in your hand). Uphills were very steep. Plunging poles into the ground ahead and dragging yourself up, calfs burning.

I didn’t plan to latch on to the Tea Dodger. I was a reluctant parasite and, though it may seem otherwise, I don't want a reputation for copying him. But I knew I had to shadow a Veteran for at least a full loop and learn all I could. I wanted ultimately to be fully independent – I would have to be on loop 5 – but learning the course by myself would waste too much time on loop one, I felt.

60 hours sounds like a lot of time. It isn't at Barkley. I knew where we were on the map 98.8% of the time and took regular bearings, with John occasionally saying things like, "Remember that tree".

The group dwindled to four, with Spain’s Albert Herrero Casas (world Rogaining champ and Ronda del Cims winner) and Switzerland’s Christophe Nonorgue (world record holder for 18,767m vert in 24hrs). It was surreal to thunder down Rat Jaw, where thankfully the briars had been cut, though they still tried to trip us up. Then getting wet feet under the prison, another pinch-yourself moment. Back into more absurdly steep woods. And up again. Up and up.

8hrs and 17mins later, the four of us gambolled into Camp. I was doing the Barkley Marathons and it was well brill.

I asked Laz if I had had fun on that run, whether it counted as a fun run? "No," he said. "You have so much more fun ahead of you."

Forcing a grin while climbing Rat Jaw, on loop three (probably).
Credit: inov-8.com / David Miller Photography

Loop 2, CCW, 11:50

The next loop would be counter-clockwise, in the dark. The transition was 10mins at most, with crewman extraordinaire Jodi shoving food, kit and advice at me. Apparently I'd earned the nickname, Guy with Mohawk.

I can't now remember much about this leg. It was dark, really cold and quite beautiful. I think I had my inov-8 Thermoshell jacket on the whole time. Everything had looked about the same in daylight and predictably the night-time didn't much help with that. John and Albert sometimes debated the route, but they are both such strong climbers I was often just out of earshot. We were just going steeply down or steeply up. It was also my introduction to the loathsome monster named Meatgrinder. Which just goes steeply on, and on, and on, for about 45 minutes (if you’re feeling frisky). It was largely agreed to be the least popular part of the course.

The liquid at the two water points was mostly frozen, but usually we'd find a container that was more slushy, even if drinking it made us feel cold. On out and backs we would sometimes see Jasmin, Jared, Jo and Karel. Everyone was friendly. It never felt like a race.

I still felt good, but even without mishaps the loop had taken nearly four hours longer.

Loop 3, CCW, 11:57

We arrived back sometime in the dark. As our watches didn’t show the time of day, I was now deep into Barkley Time. Our crews had moved us to the heated toilets, where photographers buzzed round us like mosquitoes. I smiled at them. But I haven't seen any of those photos. Presumably they prefer dismay and despair.

Again, I feel like this loop, in the daylight, went uneventfully. Except at the end when I handed my pages in and, instead of 13, Laz counted 11... Parp! Then we spotted two more curled up in my race number. Phew!

"Are you learning all you can?" asked Jodi. I wasn’t sure. I felt I had a good knowledge of the course now, albeit with three or four tricky sections that just seemed like briar thickets. But had I learned enough to go solo? I decided at some point on the next leg I would go it alone, in preparation for loop 5, where I’d have to anyway.

Loops were taking 12 hours now even in daylight. We still felt we had a good amount of time, as long as there were no major blunders on loop 4, which was in the dark...

Transitioning between loops two and three, in the wonderfully warm toilets, where it is customary to wear your headtorch upsidedown.
Credit: inov-8.com / David Miller Photography

Loop 4, CW, 13:25

John and I soon became topographically embarrassed. I felt dizzy and sleepy and stopped to add calories. He carried on. "Are you on the trail John?" I shouted, a moment later. "No, are you?" We only lost about 15 minutes, but it was indicative of our state. We agreed on a power nap at Garden Spot. As we couldn't set alarms on our watches, I lay my head on the book so the next runner would have to wake us. 15 minutes would be good. 30 or more would be bad. Albert arrived within a minute. We were up again.

If I ever paused for a shoelace, I’d have to work hard to catch up and it seemed to take me an extra long time to climb from the bottom of Leonard’s Buttslide to the next book on Stallion Mountain, where the other two were kindly waiting. "Don't wait next time, " I panted. “I'd hate for you to miss a cutoff because you waited for me.” I'm such a hero.

On that next climb, John's sexual grunting reached a new level, then grew gradually fainter ahead, while Albert's tickle cough remained behind. Albert and I tried a power nap near the Fire Tower, but this time Aurélien Sanchez arrived within a minute or two. I felt a little revived however and descended Rat Jaw with the Frenchman, presuming Albert was just behind (he would DNF shortly with breathing issues). In the tunnel under the prison I asked Aurélien if he was playing a radio. He wasn't. The river was playing tricks on my mind.

I helped Aurélien find the book at the top the next climb, among the capstones. Then paused to switch headtorches and he was gone, and my troubles started. There is an optimal way off the top that’s obvious in the daylight, but not in the dark. I followed a bearing but ended up in an unrecognisable no man's land of big rocks and streams. After toing and froing, I decided to go back to the capstone summit, to join forces with Albert or Karel Sabbe as they caught me up, or at least know exactly where I was and work from there. I dilly-dallied at the top, then remembered there was a cutoff for the loop and took a new bearing to another river and... followed it to another… then a confluence… a hollow tree... with a book inside!
I'd gotten lost. But I'd gotten unlost. It felt empowering. But it had cost me significant time.
Hallucinations started on Big Hell (not even exciting ones – just people watching me). After easily (note that word) finding the loop's final book, at the Chimney Top capstones, I arrived back at camp 30 minutes under the cut off.

End of loop four. “Please be 13 pages…”
Credit: inov-8.com / David Miller Photography

Loop 5, CCW, not very long

I was buzzing. Jodi, who was just extraordinary throughout, was beavering around. Spinksy was there with advice (and pointed out I had a nosebleed), Konrad, Tom Hollins, a bunch of pals willing me on. I had planned some zzzs at Camp between these loops, but there was no time now.

I’ll never forget leaving for that fifth loop. Laz was very concerned that my little Sonic paper bag might become litter, but I promised it wouldn’t. With just over 12 hours to get that final circuit done, in daylight, Fegy and Harvey Lewis cheered me out. I fist bumped Jared Campbell. It was like a dream. Anything seemed possible! But my crew and informed observers knew I was doomed. Regardless of my ability to go solo, and ability to manage growing sleep deprivation, I had 12 hours left. All recent fifth loops have been 13hrs+.

As the day warmed and my stomach worked on all the nosh I'd knocked back at Camp on the long climb back up to Chimney Top, lethargy returned. Reaching the line of capstones that mark the summit, I made my way to a specific one. There are numerous capstones and numerous book-sized hiding holes, but I'd found this book straight away just two hours ago. Except… Now it wasn't here.

It must be here. I searched and searched. High and low. Back and forth. I retraced my steps. I approached it from the clockwise direction. No book.

I was confused. Frustrated. Sleepy. I needed a reset.

I added calories, caffeine, and tried a power nap. But people kept talking. They wouldn't let me sleep!

But there were no people. And no book.

I started believing the book must have gone (which does happen occasionally). Maybe I or Aurélien had misplaced it? Maybe a crow or a hog had made off with it? I realised I'd been looking for an hour and now had less than 10 to finish the loop. At Camp, it had been expressed to me that if I ran out of time it would be better not to complete the loop. Either the book was actually missing, but who would believe me and I wasn't going to bash myself up for 10 more hours if it wouldn’t count. (To clarify, this is not the book that really was missing, thanks to a thoughtful hiker). Or more likely, I wasn't compos mentis enough to find books anymore?

Either way, there seemed no point in going on. I left a couple of Nutty Butter biscuits (that’s UK not US biscuits) on ledges to, er, prove I’d been there. I figured someone would collect the books at the end and I didn’t want to litter (it made sense to me at the time, anyway).

It was an odd feeling. Physically I was good; my body was capable of five loops. Mentally I was okay; I wanted to go on. But I’d failed cerebrally. I’d been defeated by the Barkley jigsaw puzzle. Or at least to fend off my old foe, sleep deprivation. Probably a combo of the two. Sleeplessness doesn’t tend to make folk more intelligent.

I began to jog dejectedly back down to Camp…

My great pal Jasmin found me some 30 minutes later, asleep across the trail.

She had also found the "missing" book. (There’s a popular gender stereotype in there somewhere).

We ran the rest of the way to Camp together, sharing our similar mixed emotions. She was about to record the best ever run at Barkley by a female athlete, but felt she could do better. Is it possible to feel both proud satisfaction and frustrated disappointment at the same time? Was my glass 4/5s full or 1/5 empty?

After watching Jasmin create history, I too touched the yellow gate, but with an embarrassing lack of pages to show. Taps was played in my direction, which felt surreal and oddly rewarding.

I chilled at Camp with like-minded loons and was privileged to watch Aurélien (an engineer) finish Barkley at his first attempt, the Tea Dodger (data scientist) finish his second, and… with just six and a half minutes to spare… Karel Sabbe (dentist) touch the yellow gate. That was truly extraordinary to witness.

Watch Chloe Read’s ace film about crewing for her dad Billy at the 2023 Barkley Marathons.

I’m lucky to have some rather inspiring pals (even if some steal macaroons or meanly interrupt my slumbers).
Credit: David Miller

Post-Barkley thoughts:

I feel incredibly fortunate to have had this opportunity. Thank you inov-8, John, Jodi (surprisingly good tea bruv!), Laz, David Miller (for the ace snaps) and everyone who gave me help, advice and encouragement and who helps make the Barkley so special.

Losing my virginity in the woods was SUCH FUN! The whole thing was just magical. It felt uncommonly intimate, informal and silly, but serious and meaningful too.

The Barkley is a Kafkaesque hell. But it’s my kind of hell. When I say hell, I mean a deliberately confusingly outdoor library.

Perhaps I should change my social media bio to “Gets schooled by John Kelly”?

Due to the unusually good weather and the fact Laz will likely make things harder next time, I may never get such a good chance to finish the Barkley.

Only 19 people have ever started a fifth loop. I now belong in a very exclusive club, of just me and Gary Robbins, the two who've started a fifth loop without finishing one. Yet…

My biggest regret? Not asking Keith Dunn for a photo.

Kit/nosh that worked:

inov-8 Mudclaws – For max grip. These have never let me down and last well. Switched socks and daps between each loop.

inov-8 Ultrapack Pro 2in1 – New pack I’ve been testing for a while. Versatile, comfy, fits a surprising amount of kit and just works.

inov-8 Thermoshell Pro Insulated Jacket – Almost didn’t take it on one loop but thankfully Jodi persuaded me too and I was very glad he did, brrrr.

Leki EvoTrail FX.one TA – Went with aluminium for extra strength. Invaluable.

Petzl IKO Core – Actually my back-up lamp, but ended up wearing it a fair bit (sometimes the right way up). Brill light/comfort/weight ratio.

Veloforte Energy Bars and Chews (and electrolytes) – yummo!

Sonic cinnamon rolls – Double yummo! (Not vegan, sorry planet.)

Hummus+vegan cheese+pickle/s bagels – Worked well at the Spine too, becoming my go to.

Tea. Obvs – thanks Jodi! (Read about his Barkleys  here.)