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While you were running Western States

A suspension bridge was my toughest place
While crewing Greg in this storied race
We encountered it driving Yankee Jim's Road
All rocks, twists and dirt, we drove it real slow

At this ancient bridge we came to a stop
To look before driving over that 200-foot drop
The bridge stretched across the North Fork, American River
Raging white water below, it sure made me shiver

For the cables were rusty and just hanging there
No arches or columns, just lots of air,
Beneath that span's crude, rustic stretch
Thoughts of bridge failure almost made me retch

I recalled that interstate bridge in the Twin Cities
Of Minnesota. It failed, and it wasn't pretty
This worst-case scenario made me a nervous Nellie
With shortness of breath and two legs of jelly.

I wasn't sure the bridge could take the weight of our auto
I was sure with our lives I didn't want to play Lotto
My fellow crewmembers, Erin and Ed --
Couldn't shake the image of them (and me!) crushed and dead

Decided to retrace the dirt road back to I-80
And not take a chance with the stakes so weighty
Take the long way around to Forest Hill Road
And that's when Ed's red-head temper showed.

"Get back in that car, the bridge is okay!
To make Duncan Canyon in time, it's the only way
If you're too cowardly to do it, then give me the key!"
Ed stood in my way and jabbed his finger at me.

This is not going well, I recall thinking
And glanced over at Erin, my stomach sinking
But that pretty gal wisely stayed out of the fray
I told Ed if I must err, I'd err in the safest way.

Ed wasn't buying, he just grabbed his stuff
Stalked off 'cross the bridge, as though he'd had enough
Then an old guy pulled up in a white SUV
A campground official, who I was quite glad to see!

He said "I know that old bridge looks shaky and rusty.
But take it from me, it's sturdy and trusty.
I drive across several times a day
Sometimes with a trailer, and it's not yet given way."

So we got in the car and drove slowly across
I was still kind of nervous as the bridge swayed and tossed
I looked over at Erin, and it was no surprise
Her fists were clenched tight, and so were her eyes.

We made it across with sighs of relief
Came up on Ed; I said "Hop on in, chief!"
He climbed in the back, and then said some things
To let me know he was pissed; they made my ears sting!

I wanted to blow back like nuclear fission
But I had Erin to think of, and also the mission
So I swallowed my ire and continued to drive
Still on time for Greg, and best of all still alive.

Meeting that old guy was a piece of good luck
But then as we drove, we met an old truck
Head-to-head on this narrow dirt mountainous track
With no room to pass, you could only go back.

I pulled to a stop with an unvocalized curse
At this Mexican stand off, then he put his truck in reverse
And backed up a quarter-mile, which I couldn't have done.
Far too many exposures; it would only take one

We got to a place just two cars wide
With a salute to that driver we pulled alongside
And then we were past and again on our way
I hoped Greg was having an easier day.

But then things improved, the road turned to two blacktop lanes
Still twisty and curvy, but somewhat less insane
And we made Duncan Canyon, with 20 minutes to spare
Before Greg a'snortin' and sweatin' got there.

We replenished his gels and his salt and sports drink
And I guess during that time, Ed had time to think
After seeing Greg off to the next leg of his goal
Ed told me he was sorry for having been an asshole

I reached out and gave him a hug with one arm
I told him "we made it" and "really, no harm."
And we hung out together for the rest of the race
With our other crewmembers at each crewing place.

Ed treated Greg's sunburn at Michigan Bluff
Erin sponged him with water and we made him eat stuff
At 62 miles I fixed up Greg's feet
While the crew fed him pizza, and sprayed him with DEET

Brian and Danny paced Greg through the night
Green Gate, Rucky Chucky in the moonlight
Then, after being up all night and pacing Greg 18 miles,
Danny volunteered at the Finish Line Medical Tent for a while.

We crewed for Greg here and we crewed for him there
At Highway 49 Crossing, Dawn and I sat Greg down in a chair
With seven to go, Greg looked like he was dying
For one horrible instant, I thought he was going to start crying!

But the volunteer at the station, his pacer and crew
Gave Greg what he needed, and he knew what to do.
He followed Brian, his pacer, back onto the trail
"See you at the finish," we yelled, "until then, farewell!"

And I got his photo as he crossed the line,
Sun-baked and dust-covered but having a time
Waving and shouting, then kissing the ground
Finally okay to come all unwound.

We stayed up all day and all hours of night
When Ed lost his temper, we almost got into a fight
Didn't even tell you about Erin's run-in with the motel manager in Tahoe City.
Erin was nice, he acted shitty.

I drove while I was sleepy; I fought to stay awake
Had to turn the wheel over to Danny, for safety's sake
I found I'd left important items back at home
And spoke some words I can't mention in a poem.

Now, even with drama, the crewing was fun
But when it was over I was mighty done
And though the Western States hundred looks really rough
And I saw it break runners who are leather-tough

I'll try to enter next year; yes I know what I'm doing.
Running Western States will be less stressful than crewing!
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