On paper, the Barkley Fall Classic is a 50k trail race in the mountains of east Tennessee. To those who have run it, it is so much more (and I’m not just talking about the distance). It’s not possible to explain it to someone who hasn’t been out there. A mysterious trail magic engulfs your spirit. Those who attempt the race past the Yellow Gate are a rare breed, runners who are looking to find their limits and push beyond.
Barkley mastermind Lazarus Lake always finds new ways to challenge us, changing the course so it’s essentially a new race each year. 2023 ran as a five-loop course, with each loop getting progressively harder. It had similarities to 2022, but based on the direction of the loops and the time of day we hit certain trails, it proved to be much more difficult than last year. The route is always challenging in the best conditions, but Mother Nature always seems to provide an extra challenge at Frozen Head State Park. This year she brought a rainstorm as most runners were on the most difficult sections of the BFC – Rat Jaw, Meth Lab, and Testicle Spectacle. Impossibly steep, briar filled powerline cuts up the sides of mountains. We had to climb and descend them in both directions. They quickly turned into mud slides and the time needed to traverse the same sections as last year (when it was hot and dry) increased exponentially. For many who made it down Rat Jaw, when faced with several more climbs and descents with similar conditions, hope was lost of being able to finish the race, and they opted to take the Bus of Disgrace back to the start line. Several others chose to push on, only to ultimately be turned back by the sweepers after timing out. Only about one-third of the runners pushed on past that decision point, choosing to climb the muddy Rat Jaw – 2000 feet up in 1 mile – and then run about 4 miles back down to the finish line, to victory.
This year was my sixth year running this race, and I have yet to finish the full 50k. Why would I keep coming me back after so many failures? Back in 2017, I showed up knowing nothing about the park, or much at all about the Barkley Marathons, other than seeing the documentary about the race that starts when a guy lights a cigarette. I was nearly 3 hours behind the decision point cutoff. Over the years, I have become a better runner mostly due to my desire to get better at this particular race. The past few years I have been so close, being less than 10 minutes from be able to run the last loop and finally earn the Croix de Barque for a 50K finish. This year, I was one of those unfortunate souls that ran into the sweeper at the top of Meth Lab, coming up just short of being able to finish the marathon distance. My reward was to turn around and go back down Meth Lab, following the Barkley tradition of anyone who can self-extract must do so. I joined up with a group of 3 other runners in the same situation, and we just laughed at how ridiculously difficult the day had become. We had struggled through a lot of adversity but discovered strength we didn’t know we had. I knew I could hold my head high knowing that I had given everything I had to the course this year. It wasn’t enough to get my ultimate goal, but it was a worthwhile pursuit. Sometimes you can find success even if you don’t finish the race. Barkley gives us what we need.
Aside from the personal challenges, it’s the people that keep bringing me back. I like to say that the Barkley Fall Classic is a family reunion where everyone is the “crazy uncle” that does these wild things that nobody else in the family can understand. Someone who in one moment can talk about how miserable they were when it took them 2 hours to go 1 mile, then share pictures of a hundred briar cuts on their arms and legs, and then immediately ask when they can sign up again. Over the years, I have become friends with so many of these people, and I can’t imagine not being out there with them year after year. And every year, I make amazing memories with new people that I would never have known otherwise. We aren’t racing against each other, we are racing with each other, doing whatever we can to help everyone get as far as they can. I was given Benadryl and Tylenol when I got stung in the head 4 times on Jury Ridge. I gave salt caps to a runner who was suffering from cramps on the run down the jeep road. We offered condolences to the runner who was walking back from the Yellow Gate after taking a hard fall on the rocks. I saw a friend who had gone through hell coming back down Chimney Top, ready to call it a day out of frustration. We convinced her to join our merry band of zombies as we marched on at 30-minute mile pace – she ultimately finished the marathon, and I know she will be back stronger next year to give it another go. I reminded a virgin that we had done 10 switchbacks up Bird Mountain and there were only 4 more, and that gave her new energy to continue climbing. And we couldn’t do any of it without the amazing support we get from volunteers every year, especially the local Coalfield middle and high school football teams.
Perhaps the highlight of my day was as we were descending Rat Jaw. I don’t remember if we were stopped for a rest from the insanity, or if we had moved to the side to give right-of-way to those lead runners coming back up, heading towards a finish. I was clinging for dear life with to a tiny stump and a clump of briars that stabbed my fingers through my gloves. The woman 20-30 feet above me let out a little yell and I looked up to see her losing control and starting to slide down a pitch so steep she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from hitting the rocks a few feet below me. I reached out my right hand and somehow, she grabbed ahold of it, and I was able to re-direct her into the briars next to me. In any other situation this would be a terrible fate, however looking at the alternative, laying in a pile of thorns in the mud seemed like the perfect place to be. The guy above us who watched the whole thing yelled something like “That was awesome! That was like something in an action movie!” The people are what the Barkley is all about, and what continues to bring me back.
I saw many of the lead runners on their way back up Rat Jaw as I was heading down, and despite being hours behind them, I was being encouraged by those who would finish before I could even get out a word. Fist bumps, good job, keep going, you look great (although we know that’s not true). While we awed at their strength, they awed at our perseverance. That’s why the Barkley feels like a family affair – everyone is treated as equal, because everyone knows what we are going through. One finisher said that on his climb up Rat Jaw, those of us still descending looked like we had gone to war. That is a perfect description for how I felt – shellshocked, but hell bent on continuing for as long as I could with my band of brothers.
If you ever want to run this race, you must bring your very best. Maybe your best isn’t enough to finish the entire race, and that’s ok. If you are willing to give everything you have, you belong and you are welcome. Find your own limits and go beyond. Learn how strong you are and how much more you can be. Use this as a springboard to a better version of you. Just beware – for many of us, the Barkley Fall Classic isn’t just something you can do once and “get it out of your system”. This race gets into your soul. Nobody will understand why you want to keep coming back again and again, except those of us who do the same. I hope to see you out there in 2024.
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