The below is an essay I wrote the day after the Salmon Marathon. It's not short, so consider yourself forewarned. One of my running clubs put it in their newsletter: I arrived in Salmon for the first annual Salmon Marathon, from Boise, on a gorgeous
Friday afternoon. The drive into Salmon was especially nice, provided the beautiful
weather and the valley view of the rugged Beaverhead Range’s Sacajawea Peaks. The
day that followed would provide me with a spectacular marathon experience, blending
the beauty and folksiness of a small town marathon, with the organization, fun and
culture of a marathon substantially larger.
Salmon is a smaller town, with a population of approximately thirty-three hundred
people, nestled in East-Central Idaho, about two hours from Missoula, Montana. Being a
smaller town, Salmon presents all of the wonderful experiences one comes to expect from
a place of Salmon’s size. After a warm and enjoyable packet-pickup experience, at
around noon, I went to find a nice Chinese food restaurant, to load up on rice for those
pre-marathon carbohydrates.
As I’d arrived in Salmon with plenty of time, I decided to get directions so I could drive
and preview the marathon’s course. The nice folks running the pickup directed me to
Tendoy, Idaho, which was where the start was located. Their instructions were quite
simple, “Follow Main out of town, it becomes “twenty-eight,” you will come to Tendoy,
from there, turn left. On your right is the school house; that is where the start of the race
is.”
As I drove up Highway 28 to the small town of Tendoy, every car or truck coming from
the opposite direction introduced to me something I’d not seen since my younger years,
growing up in Sherrard, Illinois, “the farmer wave.” If you’re not familiar, a “farmer
wave” is the ubiquitous response exhibited by passing folks in rural settings throughout
this country. It can be as simple as popping the index finger up from the steering wheel
of one’s truck. What was most delightful was being caught by it off guard, and then
striving to preemptively catch passersby before they could beat me to the punch. Perhaps
it was right there I began to feel enjoyable nature of what the Salmon Marathon would
come to offer. Of course, packet pickup was well organized and friendly, but it hadn’t
yet hit me that I was going to run the marathon in such a special place filled with warm
and friendly folks.
After I returned to Salmon, I went to my hotel room at the Stagecoach Inn, which was
strategically located across from the bus pickup and race’s finish line. I sat in my room
for several hours catching up on phone calls and trying to stay off my feet. Laying out
my race wear and pinning my number to my shirt. From there, I left for St. Charles
Catholic Church in Salmon, which was where the race-sponsored pre-race pasta dinner
was to take place.
As one can certainly imagine, the dinner was full of jovial folks, all of whom were
excited about the marathon and its smaller town setting. I met folks at the dinner from
Upstate New York, Utah and San Mateo, California. Like marathoners in every pre-race
dinner, there was a fun exchange of marathon stories from around the States and other
parts of world. It’s challenging to adequately express the fun and rustic nature of dining
in the place where Salmon’s Knights of Columbus meet, provided that church halls or
basements are too often the locations for such things. Of course, from a marathonperspective,
too often there are more than 10,000 racers, which logistically conflicts with
one local church or public hall opening their doors for every tier of racer to sit down and
dine together. This was again where the smaller nature of the Salmon Marathon, with its
limit of 250 racers, expressed its advantages.
Like the church hall at St. Charles Church on Friday night, Saturday morning, all of the
racers met for the busses to drive us to the start line, from the same place where the
packet pickup was located. The busses to drive us to the race start were school busses,
which provided for roughly twenty-two miles of conversation with fellow racers. Upon
arriving at the school, to our surprise, doors to the one-room Tendoy schoolhouse were
opened, and we were told to go into the school to wait for the 6:45 a.m. start. After
entering the school, the race volunteers and organizers asked us to take a metallic starsticker,
and attach to the map the location from where we came. Then, we were to write
on the posted piece of poster paper our name and city of origin. It was there, in the
comfortably warm school room, I learned that those from out of the state of Idaho
received in weeks prior letters from school children in Tendoy welcoming them to
Salmon and their school in Tendoy. Again, the wonder of the small town experience was
sweetly evident.
At around 6:40 a.m. my fellow racer Luke and I headed out to acclimate to the near perfect
start time temperature of roughly 45 degrees Fahrenheit. It was a little chilly, but
in the perfect way, the kind for which we knew we’d be thankful once the race started.
As we stood there Kathy Gatens the friendly and energetic race director gathered all of us
for the convocation to kick off the race. There a local pastor led us in a pre-marathon
prayer, and Kathy introduced us to a patient at Whitewater Therapeutic the program
which the marathon benefited. The young woman told the racers how she had benefited
from the program, which was all the more sincere and heartwarming, taking further the
wonderful and caring feel the racers had leading into the marathon. To conclude the prerace
convocation, we sang to a racer from Boise, whose birthday was the next day,
“Happy Birthday,” and then we were off to the start line.
The marathon, because of its smaller size was gun-timed, which didn’t leave any
concerns. As the gun went off, we began running, and a good portion of the racers took
off in quick order. The race was on “Old Lemhi Road” for the majority of its length.
Old Lemhi is a gravel road with reasonable amounts of gravel and dirt, likening it to a
trail run, which didn’t leave anyone, with whom I spoke, discouraged. Portable
bathrooms were located at approximately every other mile, which was nice. The race
started prior dawn, but magically, as though it was planned, as racers progressed up the
road, the sun came up and shown the beauty of the high mountain desert in which we
were running. There were ranges on both sides of the valley in which we were running,
and the range to our left, the south side, began showing its dawn color, the perfect reds
and greens one sees in Salmon’s surroundings.
What was equally impressive was looking to the left at dawn; around mile two, we saw a
mule deer grabbing some grass in the far off field to the left of the course. Not far after
that, around mile three, many of the racers caught a glimpse of a moose also tending to its
dawn activities. Taking this further, while I’ve never run a marathon with a course like
this, there was also the pleasure of receiving a chorus of moos and whinnies, as we
passed pasture and ranches, running down Old Lemhi.
There is the component that sounds quite rural about that, but at the same time, there
were wonderful residents of Salmon and local farms out to cheer for us sporadically
throughout the course. Of course, from the race’s logistics there was adequate hydration
and toilets throughout the course, but amongst all of the crowds there, there was a chorus
of nice women standing at the gates of a ranch, around mile fourteen, waving American
Flags, singing “God Bless America.” It was difficult not to attempt to sing along with
them, as I threw my hand over my heart at the sight. Of course, keeping with the spirit of
the marathon and the wonderful people of Salmon, crowds gathered in spots throughout
the course. In spite of the town’s smaller population, there was no shortage of
community support from the people of Salmon, or the marathon’s volunteers.
Concluding the marathon into town there was an enjoyable length of downhill, which
lead onto Salmon’s streets. From there, the course wound over to the park near Idaho
Adventures, where the busses picked us up. As I ran down to the park, where the chutes
were located, a group of young women cheered for me, “Go Matt!” I looked at them
quite puzzled, and one responded with a smiling “Don’t worry, you don’t know us.” It
was tough not to both be flattered and chuckle at that component of the race. As I ran
into the chutes, the entire park was full of racers just having finished and spectators, all of
whom cheered me through the finish. Again, the theme of this smaller marathon was
consistent throughout the race.
It is all too easy to continue to write about how nice and kind the people of Salmon were
as volunteers and spectators, but the part that provided for enjoyment of that experience
was just how well the race was run. Kathy Gatens, the Race Director, and her group of
organizers, planners and volunteers, along with the police and fire fighters of Salmon put
on an event that was a continuous display of proper advance planning. Certainly, the
racers and people of Salmon were blessed with gorgeous weather for the race, but much
of that comes down to planning for the right date, based on the location.
Following the race, at 5 p.m. the town had a party at the cleaned up park, where the finish
line was located. At the party, racers were provided free access, whereas other patrons
were charged for admission. There were tents from local patrons, some were selling
food, some were advertising their products, and others were selling desserts for
donations, all of which reemphasized the gracious nature of the race, the town, and those
organizing the event. From there, a terrific bluegrass band, New South Fork Bluegrass
played a wonderful set of bluegrass music, both their originals and covers of classic
bluegrass musicians like Bill Monroe. With many from the town having volunteered to
help out with the marathon, there was a wonderful cross-section of families with parents,
grandparents, and young children dancing to the warm sounds coming from the band.
As some new friends of mine and I were standing a talking during a break in the music,
the Race Director Kathy walked by us, and we stopped to thank her for such a wonderful
race. I found myself saying to her, “Congratulations for planning such a wonderful race.
We all love the idea of running a marathon with a small number of participants in a
smaller city’s environment, like Salmon’s, but there are typically consequences choosing
to run a smaller city’s marathon, due to lack of planning or organization.” As Kathy
stood there grateful for the compliment, I said, “Kathy, this marathon was the perfect
blend of a smaller city’s atmosphere and the terrific planning you put behind it.” I felt
comfortable speaking on behalf of all of my fellow racers saying that, as I’d not heard
one person say something to the contrary. If one is looking for a small marathon, one
with limited participants, on a faster course with optimal conditions and planning, I
would immediately have to refer them to Salmon’s, as it was all of the above. I am quite
grateful I heard of it when I did, and registered. I am sure as word gets out about this
year’s marathon, future marathons in Salmon will be tougher entries to gain.
-Matt Johnson 14-September-08
