CAMINO - In late 2023 we received a few messages on the 'hush-hush' about runners in our close community wanting to take part in solo and team versions of the infamous TSP - 500+KM unsanctioned run from Los Angeles to Las Vegas.
We knew a few things already.
We had seen up close how our dear friend James Poole had trained and beautifully executed his solo version (check out his wonderful film SOLIS here)
We had spoken at length to the BTR group who had completed theirs in 2021 (there is a great podcast and further resources here) and our beautiful friends Molly & Jonty (RunLimited) who provided one of our all-time favourite films of their Powerline section - check it here
So we had coffees, met at various locations around London and started coaching for this wild ride. The coaching for TSP is a whole other ballgame - if you wish to do this one then definitely get in touch and we can chat. What spirals quickly is the whole fundraising - brand association - logistics - that's a wild ride in itself.
We are grateful to Gloria and the incredible London Sole Sisters for letting us be a small part of their 2024 TSP version.
This blog has been lovingly constructed by our very own Camino Legend/Run Leader Frank - His own journey to the LA start line was epic. Fully intentioned to raise awareness and funds for the brilliant ADFAM charity - Frank was 'always' going to be at that start line. His dedication throughout the training block was highly impressive and it was here that his bromance with Camino's Max blossomed. These two South London angels would meet night and day (sometimes running from night to day!) to crunch through the weekly miles together.
We were overjoyed when Max was able to become one of Frank's trusted crew - alongside the one true legend Polly and (sister) Tiff and Jonathan - Superstar Crew x
HUGE CAMINO LOVE FRANK for your journey - your spirit - your beautiful TSP version x Thank you for taking the Camino Buff Love 'on the road' and sharing your story with us x
FRANKLIN:
"The Speed Project LA to LV 2024
A story of dreaming big and somehow pulling it off.
This journey started four months before the actual finish line, and some would say years before that but let's start with the morning of the race.
My crew and I have been in LA for two days. Me and Max have had a couple of shake down runs that were way too long, way too fast but way too much fun to stop.
In this time, we had gathered supplies, we had organised an RV, we’ve been to events surrounding The Speed Project, we’ve made friends, we’ve met Instagram buddies in IRL, to find that they are as rad as we think and if truth be told even radder.
It is 2:30 in the morning, the alarms are going off, there is hustle and bustle in the apartment, everybody is awake or waking. The kit is all laid out, time to get dressed, time to have a drink, time to have some food, time to order the Uber.
Normally by now I’m a self-doubting nervous wreck although, oddly, on this occasion there is no self-doubt, there are no nerves, there is just a strong belief that I belong here, and we are all excited and we are going to do this.
Bags packed, ready to go, the start is a short Uber drive away. Super star Uber driver Fox, a young LA resident, I would guess he’s in his twenties, was super excited to hear about our future adventures across LA and into Nevada. He treated us all like super stars and was keen to take a photo of myself with him when we finally arrived at the start line.
As we arrived at our drop off point, it was roughly 3:45am, the Santa Monica Pier was lined with RV’s and support vehicles. There was frenzied activity, lots of camera flashes, runners, their crews, their media teams, the organisers, some early bird tourists, local LA characters and us.
So here we go. All the runners have assembled in the centre, underneath the Santa Monica Pier sign, it’s not cold nor hot, it’s just about right. There’s an atmospheric mistiness in the air, there’s an energy, a tension that is building. It’s getting close, that thing we have all been waiting for so long is about to happen, looking at the faces and the eyes of my competitor’s, guys and girls that have done this before, guys and girls that have never done this before, excitement, tension and nervousness is building, a call for silence, a few short words from the organiser Nils, then the count down.
The words “Run mother fucker, run”, no time for good byes, no times for waves or hugs, we are off.
I chuck a hard left down Ocean Avenue, some runners went straight towards Hollywood, it looked like a startled flock of seagulls on the seashore flying off in all directions.
After that initial 25 minutes of energy, a couple of minutes of smiling and nodding, a slight little wave to competitors heading up different little side roads, picking different routes and then the silence. Just you and your breathing and this scene of a place that you know from movies, crossing roads and intersections that feel very familiar and that feeling of you’ve got a long way to go.
The climb out of LA starts moving away from the touristy areas of LA and into the wealthy luxurious and gated communities.
It’s still dark as I gain elevation. I remember Max telling me to turn around, take time to look at the view that is behind you. I see a sea, if not an ocean, of twinkly LA light’s, a city that appears to go on forever and disappear into the sea.
I hit my first bit of trail, taking me away from the mansions of LA. I come across my first sighting of another crew, which reassures me that I must be going in at least the right direction. It was Romeo, my very smiley Ecuadorian friend.
Still pitch black, I gave his crew a whoop and a holla, joined the trail, up and over the Tiger tail trail, no time for head torches, my trusty handheld torch got me up and over this steep yet short climb. It felt like wilderness, little was I to know it was far from wilderness. Coming off of the trail back into a gated community patrolled by security guards in white SUV police like cars, as I ran past all these lovely houses with huge driveways one of these renta cops pulled past me very slowly making eye contact with me with a knowing look of “you guys are back again, it must be that time of year”.
A little nod and he accelerated away.
As I come to the end of the cul de sac of this gated community, take a slight left and onto the Canyon Back trail. A green lush yet sandy trail that was hilly and dark, with ups and downs with lots of paths off of the trail trying my best to follow my Garmin, it was at this point that I became lost! Just enough to keep it exciting and for me to look back and see head torches in the distance.
This is already feeling like an epic adventure and I’m thinking I’m about 2 hours in. As I came to the other side of Canyon Back I came across my crew for the first time.
Having a crew that you trust in and that trust in you, in my opinion, is the most important thing when undertaking something like this. Knowing they will be there or at least in contact with you, gives you the confidence to know you can push on through and achieve anything.
So we top up the bottles, make sure I’m comfortable and have everything I need.
I remember Polly shouting at me to slow down and the excitement on Max’s face. After all those training runs we are finally doing it.
The head torches that were behind me on Canyon Back have finally caught up with me and I notice one of them is my good friend James Poole, looking very comfortable and happy and pushing on. I let this group of three go past and continue to talk to my crew, making sure everything is ok with those guys and decide to push on myself, on the same section. This is now a descent, after climbing for two hours I finally hit some downhill. After this little bit of wilderness, I’m back into the sprawl of suburban LA. Again beautiful houses, running on concrete, downhill, fast and light.
The sun is now up; it turns out I was running through Mulholland drive. I finally caught up with the three guys James Poole, a guy I know to be Vic and another guy Brookes. All having a chat and just enjoying what we are doing. Which is basically trying to get out of LA and the endless pedestrian crossings. It’s starting to get warm and we are well into the race, we’re seeing RV’s and support vehicles parked in gas stations and fast food restaurants waiting for their runners.
Our little group is setting a blistering pace all the way up Balboa Boulevard, going over the top of freeways, under freeways, just keep going.
Already people are starting to suffer. All those little training niggles are starting to rear their heads. I myself felt ok but this was only about 6 hours into day 1 and the guys and girls that I’m running with are some extraordinary runners, running thousands and thousands of miles on many exciting and unbelievable adventures, the kind of things that make your jaw drop and think how is this even possible.
It’s starting to warm up now, we are getting to that midday sun. People are peeling off, people are joining, TSP media teams and their photographers are driving past, tooting their horns taking photos of us as we run, trying to get ahead of us, catch our crews to get footage and tell the story.
I can’t express how long and how straight this part of the journey has been, finally we start getting to something that looks a little but more like wilderness. The Soledad Canyon Road, it’s hot and we are climbing but it is so beautiful. It’s starting to feel like we were getting out there, little did I know this was the real beginning.
I was in good company. James and Rob are both veterans of this event and I knew if I was in their vicinity I was doing good. I can’t express how long and how beautiful this climb was, past very old shops that felt like we were the first people that they had seen all day when grabbing a Gatorade and an ice pole. As we climbed so did the heat, lots of conversation with James, Rob, and Max, who was running back and forth basically keeping us going and being part of it.
In Acton I met the team for a proper stop, refilling the bottles, continuously staying hydrated and fuelled. I think it may have been at this point that I was told by Max not to go back to the RV with any fluid in my bottles otherwise Tiffany, my little sister, would have a proper go at me and it’s just not worth it and this was a great motivator to stay hydrated!
The thing is, with America, you can always get food, normally fast food but it’s there, it’s cheap, full of calories. The ability to eat and run should never be underestimated.
Leaving the RV with a full belly and dry clothes, pushing on from Acton to Vincent, running along the interstate next to the highway, starting to realise how vast this country and this undertaking is.
We are starting to hear more on the social networks, WhatsApp, about people coming across dogs and to be careful passing packs of dogs heading towards Palmdale.
I would just like to highlight the other worldly horror movie like encounter that is the outskirts of Palmdale, on a full moonlit night running across what I thought was a desert plain of wilderness you feel small, you feel alone, I am tired and I have had a long day, I can hear dogs barking all round me, in all directions. I can’t tell whether they are coming towards me or going away from me but all I know is I’ve got to keep moving, trying to stay on these arrows on my watch, it is scrubland, there is no real path, I can see an orange glow in the distance.
There doesn’t appear to be any roads on my map but I feel that I’m going in the right direction because it’s on the route that is set on my watch. I get closer and closer to this orange glow, I can make out that it’s got to be what would appear to be a car sized thing, my head torch picks out that shape of an actual car, a damaged car with no front end and the car is lit by a headlight which is attached to a car battery which is lying on the ground in front of the car, the car also has not windows, no wheels, no engine, no seats inside, there is a leopard print blanket with a pair of feet sticking out of the bottom, I creep past trying not to disturb who or what maybe in the car, I push on through the brush, in the distance the barking appears to be getting louder and I can see a very small white light moving from left to right. After a couple of minutes, I realise that it’s a runner, either someone’s running towards me and I’m going the wrong way or they’re going the wrong way.
Thankfully it was Max coming to collect me, to help me get through this madness. I told Max of my encounter with the derelict car, he had the same look on his face as I had on mine because it turns out he had seen some stuff too.
We carried on back to the RV passing single story houses with painted black windows, odd smells and eerie glows coming from them, all the time dogs barking in all directions. We are now running in sand and through brambles and bushes, past old cars, tyres, oil drums all rusting and full of bullet holes, this feels like a very different America than the one I was running through hours ago. It’s starting to feel a bit more wild west.
Back at the RV I find myself 17 hours in with 83.41 miles done. Which is ridiculous, remembering all the time Polly had told me to slow down, always listen to your crew, especially if you have a Polly. It was time to rest.
After 3 hours of sleep back on the road, still dark, no idea which directions to go in.
Pushing on to Barstow, its nearly 5 o’clock in the morning on day 2, I’m now running on dark roads, cars and trucks are hurtling towards me it’s not busy but the roads are straight and the fact that I can see these cars and these trucks for what seems like miles’, headlights being very small and far away, watching them relentlessly heading towards me, highlights how long and how straight those roads are. I tell myself I better get cosy and I better get comfortable because I’m going to be here awhile.
My body knows it’s worked but I still feel really good, energised, my feet are in good condition and all I want to do is push on, me and Max keep bumping into each other, Max is running back towards me to keep me company and continuously helping me out, I’m starting to question at this point why am I carrying so much, I don’t need this much, this is a mistake and something I would be changing. At the next stop I’m going to unload some of this stuff. I’m still drinking, I’m still eating, I’m still happy, my kit is working flawlessly, I’ve got a race pack on me that I’ve never used before, by a brand I’ve never used before and it is brilliant, by far the most comfortable race pack I’ve ever used.
I’m in my Hylo impact road shoes that are doing a terrific job of keeping my feet in amazing condition, on some really tricky changeable surfaces.
After what seems like hours of being on this same straight road, passing houses that look very lived in, sneaking past some of the biggest most aggressive looking dogs I have ever seen, that were actually doing a very good job! That’s what they are there for, to make noise and look aggressive.
For the most part they got up to the gate, made some noise, did their job, and waited for me to disappear.
As the sun rose it was starting to get warm, starting to get hot. TSP crews were starting to fly by in cars, taking photos, waiting up the road, whooping, hollering, giving encouragement, “you’re doing great Frank” which felt amazing.
The sunrise was spectacular, the skies were now huge, the air felt dry and dusty. The lorries and trucks were still going past tooting those big American truck horns, some would take you wide, some would take you very close but all the time you just push on forward. This section was full of interesting houses, the 8-foot teddy bear tied to a white plastic chair, tied to a palm tree outside somebodies’ property was a highlight. It was around this time news came through of the runner’s positions and apparently I was in the top 10. Which was amazing. The belief that people had in me and I had in myself felt like it was being realised.
El Mirage Road, you were brutal and you never ended. You were flat, you were long, you were desolate all the way to the end, then chuck a hard left onto Adelanto Road, to the aeroplane graveyard that you see in all the films, think Con Air. We are now running on full sand, sometimes hard packed normally not though. This is hard, slow going and hot, bearing in mind these are ideal conditions this year, we are only in the mid to high 30’s.
At this point I start to feel pain in my left shin and suspect I may have some blisters starting but nothing to be too concerned about as this is to be expected. Running on deep sand in these temperatures and did I mention the aeroplane graveyard. Jumbo jets and air buses are fricken huge, it feels like there are thousands of them and this place seems to go on forever. I am now surrounded by Joshua trees a huge vast desert in the distance, I see a cloud of dust over the top of a horizon not know what it was, I presumed it was a vehicle coming towards me, I’m just trying to find the hardest bit of ground to run on to give my shin some relief, I look up again and I see that it’s an RV, on closer inspection I see it’s my RV and its time for a water stop and a natter.
On meeting my team, I could sense their excitement and awe of the views and scenes that we were witnessing and the feeling that we had finally reached wilderness and the fact that we were definitely out there. A change of clothes, a change of hat, too scared to look at the feet. I inform the team something is going on with my left shin, but moving ok, doesn’t seem too bad, the RV is turned round, Max stays with me and we continue to push on across this sandy stretch, trying to get to the other side. Max assured me not much further to go and your back on tarmac and Rob isn’t too far behind.
I expressed the need to go to sleep at the next stop and that I was hungry and needed some food and this would’ve been the hottest part of the day. So then this could be a good time to take some rest. I had some food and had an hour's sleep in the back of the RV just outside Silver Lakes.
Setting off heading for Helendale with its huge kink, sending you back on yourself, trying to cross a train track, getting to the only bridge for miles then coming back on yourself to get on the National Trails Highway. Which is beautiful but this is an incredibly long climb that we started at around 3 o’clock in the afternoon. Climbing very slowly with the train track on your left hand side watching incredibly long cargo trains moving along at a very slow pace. The temptation to run alongside and jump on board, thinking this thing will get me all the way to Vegas had crossed my mind many times on this long trail.
On the way up the National Trail I passed Rob, a very strong looking American guy who was warm and jovial and a good friend of my buddy James. He looked like he was struggling but he had company in one of his pacers so I pushed on. By now I was starting to struggle too, as the pain in my left shin was increasing and becoming distracting. I could also feel a blister on the right hand side of my right heel, it was more than a hot spot, this made it difficult to run but my left shin made it difficult to walk, so managing the pain was becoming tricky but at least I’m back on hard tarmac, which is good and bad! The camber of the road was falling away to the left, which was aggravating my left shin even more. The only way I can describe the pain was the feeling of toothache but in your shin, never experienced it before so hoped it may just be a passing thing.
By the time I’d got to the top of this climb I was run walking as much and as fast as I could, which was pretty slow but I kept moving forward. Eventually after what felt like days but was actually hours I met up with the crew again. Still in pain and still too scared to take my socks off and it felt like we were heading towards civilisation again, not quite dark but not much sunlight left either.
After a short stop in the RV, I continued to push on to Barstow. A truck stop town, this is where we planned to spend the night, the crew were tired, I was tired and very sore. Turns out Barstow is basically a town which is or at least the main street is full of liquor stores, motels and fast food restaurants with nearly as many gun stores. For the first time I felt concerned for my team’s safety, sleeping here over night didn’t feel particularly safe and secure, I felt the need to push away from this place as it gave me a bad vibe but physically I just had nothing left, I was moving way too slowly and it felt like I’d hit my first real low.
I met Max who did his best to get me to move a little quicker but there was just nothing there, the left leg was so painful, so rather than staying in Barstow we decided to stay somewhere safer - the truck stop. I said right we’ll have a couple of hours here, I just need to get some sleep then we can get away from this place. This was the end of day 2.
We finally bedded down way beyond midnight. I can remember taking some pain killers for the shin, finally checking that blister and trying to treat that blister, knowing that it had burst at least once or twice throughout the day. We all crashed. Each of us setting our alarms and all managing to sleep through our alarms! That two hours’ sleep turned into 4 hours sleep. But we all needed it, especially the drivers and myself. Up as quick as I could be, taking in as many calories as I could. Me and Max are loading packs, deciding on what shoes to wear, trying to find out what’s coming next, knowing we still have to get out of Barstow. It’s still dark.
Barstow is a medium sized but busy town and I really wanted to get out of here before it gets light. Me and Max set off out of the RV, I start to realise that there’s little to no improvement, even after a rest, in my leg. I’m starting to fear the worst and that I may have some stress fractures in my shin. Highly unlikely but I’m tired and I’m starting to catastrophise. Max drags a fairly grumpy Frank down the road dressed up like a baby polar bear, quilted trousers and quilted jacket, it is bitterly cold at night and the early morning and I’m moving slowly so can’t generate enough heat through movement to keep warm. We have covered well over 100 miles. I want to say we were about 130 miles deep at that point, I’m thinking I’m not quite halfway there yet. This feels like day 3 now. So leaving Barstow it gets complicated. I’m quiet, I’m not talking to Max much, I’ve become very focused, tunnel vision keep moving forward. Ignore what’s going on around me, follow the course on the watch no matter what. If you can see a shortcut, take it, try to stay off that camber, and keep moving.
The RV comes past me with my crew in it, we hear the toot of the horn, Max gives a wave, I give a half wave and we keep plodding on. 10 - 15 minutes later the RV comes back our way, much like them we can’t get through down there as it’s an army base, they won’t let you through. At this point I didn’t really care I was, just moving forward, still plodding, still walking, not quite able to run yet. Me and Max finally reach the checkpoint for the army base. We look at the map and see that we have to go to the left of the army base and underneath the train tracks to a dirt trail on the other side. The RV would’ve never been able to go down here anyway but knew they would be able to meet us some were near Dagget.
Not long after this I got to my lowest point of this adventure I think I was around 150 miles in and thinking I had another 150 miles to go knowing that I couldn’t run and I was walking really slowly, my left leg left practically useless and my right leg was starting to feel the same pain, that dull ache of toothache, trying to look for the positives it was very unlikely that I had stress fractures in both shins which would mean it would be muscular rather than bone and long lasting damage would be unlikely, so as long as I could deal with the pain the chances are I could get to the end of this but it may just be a bit slower than I hoped.
I was in a low spot, a dark place. I felt that I wasn’t being a very good friend to Max and that I was making him work. I don’t know how to explain it but I’d gone very much into myself. The plus side is that it was me and Max and there was on one else there to witness what was about to happen. I could feel it building, I was working myself up for something I would either be physically sick or would let this feeling out in another way I stopped on the spot screamed, yelled, had a talk to myself, smacked myself in the head a few times, gave the face a bit of a slap, punched the legs and ran like I was being chased for as long as I could until the pain became too much. All the while poor old Max is trying to keep up and probably thinking this blokes a nutter, what’s he going to do next.
Once I got my breath back, all the while continuing to have a talk to myself the ramblings of a mad man, the thought came across the mantra “there is a reason”, it’s not much of a mantra but it was mine and it’s what I needed at that point in time.
All of a sudden finding the power to run again whilst crying and repeating my mantra, “there is a reason”, “there is a reason”, over and over again, the same thing repetitively knowing that I just have to get past this section and I’ll get to the RV we will regroup, we will have breakfast, we’ll strap me up, bind up those shins and I will keep going, with my mantra, “there is a reason”. I felt by the time me and Max had got to the RV we had both been through something, an understanding.
We were finally out of Barstow; it had changed from somewhere fairly seedy to something a little bit more like suburbia. We were heading to Dagget and we were getting close, at Dagget we took a hard left heading towards the Mojave freeway. On the road to Yermo. I can’t express to you how long and how straight the scenery is here, it’s now starting to get super hot, little houses and little dwellings on the left hand side of me, not much on the right hand side but we keep pushing forward. I see my crew again and they tell me that other runners are in the area and that I’m still somewhere in the top 10, which I think is something just unbelievable because I’ve been moving so poorly but relentlessly moving forward with my walk run style. I finally get to a place called Peggy Sue's 50’s diner, there’s a few crews knocking around, there’s people just up ahead of me, so I decide not to stop at Peggy Sue’s diner and move on, it’s getting hot but I’m feeling ok and I’ve been warned that this is a particularly long section with not much to look at other than an army base. We are now in the Mojave Desert.
The Yermo road is particularly straight and flat, it feels like you can see for 30 miles ahead, one of those roads where you can see the heat haze coming up off of the tarmac, you can see cars, shadows and figures from miles away. In the distance I could see one of my competitors which powered me up to run a little bit faster and a little bit harder. Crews and crew cars were flying up and down this road supporting their runners so we knew there were people in the area. The TSP media team had approached us and said that this would be the last time we would see them until Vegas.
At some point on the Yermo Road James Poole catches up with us, brolly in hand marching along. I believe I was in the RV topping up my bottles, eating snacks and just having a good time. The Yermo road is a very gentle incline, roughly 40 miles long. Me and James tackled the majority of this road together power walking and marching, it was the hottest part of the day we had our umbrellas up trying to stay hydrated and not over exert ourselves, conserving energy for later on in the day when the temperature cooled. We knew we had a group in front of us and we had some guys and girls behind us as we had passed their crews. We had no intention at that point of catching the people in front of us and we could see the people behind us pushing to try and catch us. It was just not worth the energy, the road was straight and relentless, same as the heat.
We had the highway on our left hand side with cars and trucks that never stopped and on our right hand side we had beautiful snow-capped mountains, the scenery never changed for about 8 hours. At the end of this 8 hour stint there is a dead end, the road is closed, vehicles cannot get past but the runners can. For vehicles it is quite literally the road to nowhere. All vehicles and all RV’s have to turn round, go back where they’ve come from back on to the Mojave freeway and let their runners continue on trying to find a bridge to get across the highway to get on the trail called the Arrow head trail, which then runs alongside the left hand side of the Mojave freeway. This trail is deep thick sand and I reached it at night, a very dark night as the moonlight was being blocked by a mountain on my right hand side.
Both my shins were now hurting equally as bad as each other and the temperatures were dropping but not quite as cold as the night before. I had my quilted trousers and quilted jacket on. I wasn't moving very well but I was still hot due to being overdressed but I had no choice but to keep moving forward. I ventilated the clothing as much as I could because I might get cold later. It felt like I had been climbing all day on the tarmac and now I’m on the sand. The road here was particularly loud and I was trying to take short cuts across the corners of hillsides in the dark. This trail is basically used as an ATV and four-wheel drive vehicle playground, heavily rutted with some steep climbs and steep descents. It was another real testing time for me physically and emotionally. I felt very much alone and it felt like I hadn’t seen another human face or voice for hours and I really didn’t know whether I was going to get through this section at one point at least not before sunrise. I kept plodding on, every now and again looking behind me, just checking.
On one of these checks I turned round to see a head torch in the distance. It was so dark I couldn’t tell how far away it was but it looked like it was a fair distance away. Now I’m not a competitive man but at that very moment I said to myself “make ‘em work for it Frank” so I found something inside me to up my pace, by now I’m using poles and I pushed on. Realising I still had the red light flashing on my backpack I turned it off thinking to myself make ‘em work for it Frank. All the time thinking don’t be a dick Frank. I kept looking round seeing this little white light getting closer but I pushed on anyway, make ‘em work for it Frank. Then I hear a voice “Frank” a familiar voice, James, the sense of relief, guilt and happiness that I felt on hearing his voice I don’t think I will ever forget.
Apparently I had run past James, or more likely staggered past James while he was trying to get some sleep under a bush, wrapped in a foil blanket and sleeping bag. It was a strong reminder to me that this is more than just a race, it strips back your ego and makes you ask questions of yourself and the people around you. I believe at that point James was just the person I needed to get me through this section and I suspect in some small way I helped him. The desert is a very unforgiving place. I think me and James may have spent a couple of hours together trying to get across this particularly sandy section. I finally met my team at an area called Beacon station where I got back in the RV. James informed us that he had to go to a gas station to get some more water and food and was going to continue on to Baker and see if he could get a bed for the night.
At this point I was struggling. This pain was intense and it really didn’t matter what I did, if I was sitting it hurt, if I was trying to sleep it hurt, standing it hurt, I think you get the idea. Compression socks, different socks, tape, pain killers, different shoes, nothing seemed to work, oh well time for bed!
Day 4, the push to Baker heading towards power lines. I was warned that Baker is going to be the last bit of civilisation for a long time and I knew this section was going to be very gutty. It was hot and it felt like it was getting hotter by the day. Finally getting to Baker was a relief, I’d skimmed part of Death Valley and the reflection from the salt flats can only be described like a mirror reflecting the sun back at your face. At this point I was following footsteps in the sand and oddly came across a football and decided to have a little kick about with my very painful shins. Which felt like they were picking up some kind of alien frequency. At this point I’d become so tired that all I cared about was this mystical place called power lines and getting to it. Just getting to power lines. You could see things that looked like power lines in the distance so you knew you were close. The air here can only be described as very dry and the sand is very fine. I’m now starting to have random nose bleeds. Haven’t had nose bleeds for years, ah well not to worry, I’m sure it’ll be fine, nothing to worry about!
So as I arrived in Baker there may or may not have been an incident where a crew member, who will remain nameless, clipped a canopy outside a shop whilst waving at me and smiling. As I’m waving, the RV comes to a stop and an almighty crash and a bang brings the owner of said shop running from the building shouting and screaming. I approach the owner explaining any damage is nothing compared to the rest of the damage that I can see already on the shop front canopy, that has clearly been there forever and was years old and all this damage had already been caused and not by us!
The crew were slightly held up by the shop owner, I myself was far too focused on the job at hand and knew I was heading towards something that looked like power lines. Realising that the next section would take me through the wilderness again and that I didn’t have enough water to get me to the other side all I could do was find some shade, lie down with my feet in the air, relax (I actually fell asleep) and hope that my crew would turn up soon. 20-30 minutes later they all rock up looking a wee bit shell shocked. Woken by my little sister giving me a shake. I got back in the RV, filled up my water bottles, a few more pain killers, some food and then me and Max hit the trail once again.
This place was the real desert; we ran along a straight road that services some power lines, not ‘The Power lines’. This section was really long and a constant climb. Me and Max both worked really hard to clear this section, getting back to the RV after 7pm just as it was getting dark. There was a brief pit stop, more water, more calories and away we went again. Trying to head for Primm as we had heard that’s where lots of people would stop for the night. Sometime after this I realised that I wasn’t going to make it to Primm, not without falling asleep on the road, we all decided it would be best if I rest and give the crew a chance to rest as well. The memory is very vague but I suspect we had around 4 hours sleep here. I think we are all on about 10 hours sleep for the 4 and a half days that I have been moving.
At some point, it all started to get a bit vague but it was about 3:40 in the morning, it was time to leave the RV again. Just as me and Max are getting ready and about to leave we hear pup pup pup pup pup, pup pup pup pup. We all freeze and at this point Jonathan says “it’s just the wind” I say “that was automatic gunfire” we all look at each other and probably foolishly say it was just the wind with a knowing look and nod, then we hear it again. Me and Max jump up and head out into the dark with our head torches on trying to find the route and the crew swiftly leave the parking spot. We have eaten, we have slept but we are massively tired and we still haven’t got to these bloody power lines. We are running in the shadows of mountains; you can feel the sun is coming up but you just can’t see it yet. We have been on this same stretch of road for a number of hours, me and Max have been watching this same white light for what feels like 20 minutes. Initially we thought it was a head torch or some sort of light absolutely miles away.
We are both running along and falling asleep at the same time, we are both freezing cold but moving forward, moving forward and that light just seemed to stay there. Eventually we make it out as two lights, two very small lights in the distance, those two small lights get bigger and bigger and faster and faster and bigger until we both make it out to be a fast moving ford pickup. It comes whizzing past both of us kicking up dust and screams off. I look at Max, looks at me, we both can’t believe we thought it was a head torch and that it’s taken that long to get to us at that speed. I can remember thinking to myself if those things had been on that road for that amount of time and were heading in the same direction we are going to be on this road for hours, I wasn’t wrong but it was worth it. I think it’s fair to say at this point that me and Max were suffering from lack of sleep, the vast distances between stops and signs of life. Eventually this road starts to go downhill ever so slightly and in the distance we can see the sun starts to rise, still below a mountain but we can see this light.
In the light we can see some pylons and in the light we recognise as power lines there is literally no more conversation to have so I put on some epic tunes played through my iPhone Fine Young Cannibals, The Bonzo dog doo-dah band, Benny King – ‘I who have nothing’, Big Audio Dynamite and the song that I think sent us both over the edge M83- ‘lower your eyelids to die with the sun’. It was at this point me and Max looked off into the distance see the sun coming up over the hill with the power lines on the right hand side of us and the sun lighting the red mountains on the left hand side of us as we run into this perfect sunrise on this perfect tarmac road heading into a little valley at the bottom of the hill.
We saw an RV, one we recognised as being a TSP vehicle and another we recognised as being a media vehicle for one of the competitors so we knew we were in the right place and the chances are they would be sleeping inside. So both me and Max, not being competitive, decided to creep past while turning down the music, we turned right onto the power line trail heading up and over a very steep straight section which means you can see them but they can also see you, I worked out it took an hour and a half to get to the top of this portion, so if they left the van now they would be an hour and half behind us, but if they were on front of us they were at least an hour and a half ahead. It was at this point me and Max realised that the sun was fully up we had just climbed a massive hill very quickly and we were still wrapped up in our night time running gear, Max stopped and stripped down I continued to walk and get undressed at the same time, taking of my puffer jacket and quilted trousers. This place was hot and the terrain was rugged. I had my poles out and I was moving quickly, adrenaline had kicked in and I just wanted to move and get over this hill, this part of power lines just keeps going and you keep climbing. We start to notice the air is thinner and you’re working harder,
I felt I was starting to get a nose bleed again, we were nearing the top, we hadn't seen anybody other than a lost cow, it was beautiful. You could see where cars and trucks had tried to get over it or through it, bits of motorbike, rusty old car parts, sharp jagged rocks. It was hot by the time we had got to the top, we were both starting to think does this ever end and it does! Once you’ve completed the climb you’ve then got to do the descent, this is apparently a brilliant place to put a solar farm. I can see why. I’d used all my energy on the ascent and the climb down was going to be slow. It took hours, in the middle of this solar farm were 3 mirrors, tall mirrors on posts, reflecting the sun back at the solar panels but also back at me and Max, even with sunglasses I could see those 3 mirrors for hours after not being anywhere near them.
The descent into Primm, which can be seen from miles away, it takes a long time. The buildings in Primm are so huge and can be seen from so far away that they never actually get to normal size even when you are standing underneath them just metres away they are huge. Which does not help with that optical illusion that you are close but you are nowhere near. Getting to Primm was a joyous occasion for both me and Max because not only did we get to see the crew, we got to eat a huge plate of pancakes, sausages, eggs, bacon and syrup. A couple of hours break and then I decided to push on.
Leaving Primm running alongside the i15, we know this is the road into Vegas, we’ve just got to keep going, we are definitely less than 100 miles away, I’m sticking to the run walk because that’s all I’ve got and at least we’re on a gravel road rather than just sand.
This is basically the home stretch, I’m feeling super positive and keen to get it done, not realising just how long this road is and that it will keep going and climbing and climbing and climbing. Me and Max are pushing on, we are back to talking about how epic the thing we have just done was, feeling energised from the food we had eaten and the rest we had just had and no longer carrying a huge pack that I no longer needed, I was moving ok, Max has now got enough mileage in his legs to know that this is hard work and we are both in for a long night but we will get to the end of this if we just keep moving, in my head I’m not sleeping anymore I’m just going to keep on pushing on, run when I can run, walk when I can walk only stopping to put on warmer clothes, refresh the water, eat some food back out, keep going.
Max and myself both in good spirits, being silly. The road we were on was basically a dirt track that runs alongside the highway into Las Vegas. The dirt track is lined with single pole power lines. At this point all I had left in me was to run the length of three of these poles then walk the length of one pole. Which was great for my OCD. It was exactly 100 steps between poles, so roughly 100 feet, so roughly running 300 feet to my 100 foot walk, which at this point the endless power lines kept me going. It was still light but the light was fading and cooling down. The dirt track finally turned in to tarmac just before it started to get dark. Past an abandoned hotel and a women’s prison and police unit on to the next gas station. That’s where we meet up with the crew again. Getting changed into warmer clothing, the tiredness was starting to set in again but there was no way I was stopping. A bite to eat and back out we go again, relentlessly moving forward. It was at this point I knew I didn’t have much more running in my legs, the pain had been turned up to 12, it's amazing what the change of temperature does to the body and dealing with the constant pain, me and Max tried to both block it out and keep going.
We are now on this long straight very dark tarmacked piece of road with no street lights, just our head torches and the odd passing car. This is a very quiet road with nothing either side of it, it felt like it had no turns and no features, just one destination, Vegas. All you can hear is the sound of your shoes hitting the tarmac and the Vegas freeway on your left hand side.
I won't lie, mine and Maxs spirits were quite low when we caught sight of a bright orange light pollution type glow coming from the other side of a hill mountain type shadow in the distance but looked fairly close. This excited both me and Max by now I’m walking just as fast as I can, trying to get a little jog in to stay warm. I can remember me and Max talking, Max it’s just up there a little bit, just over the brow of that hill, I can see the horizon on the road that we’re on Max, it's going to drop back down into Vegas. “That’s Good Frank we’ve got to meet the RV one more time.” It's about a mile away. Cool.
What felt like an hour and a half later that horizon had not got any closer and we still hadn’t met the RV. By now me and Max were both so tired we were running, we were walking and we were sleeping all at the same time. I watched Max fall asleep while running, drifting off the tarmac, touching the sand on the left hand side of the road, which would then wake him up and we would both just continue running. I caught myself doing the same and I’m pretty sure Max saw me do the same on a number of occasions. That was a new life skill learnt, that you can run and sleep at the same time…. I wouldn’t recommend it.
I’m not sure whether I was hallucinating but me and Max ran past, I think, 7 cartoon-esque figures on the right hand side of the road, these things were as tall as the average UK terraced house. I think that they were the seven characters from Snow White, I may be wrong, I may be misremembering or maybe I was hallucinating, I’m pretty sure both me and Max saw them, could be wrong.
We met the RV eventually, this was well past midnight, we were both now cold and again hungry. A little bit more food, putting on a woolly hat, putting on a bigger jacket and away we go again. There was no way, no way I was sleeping. Some cheap coffee, a caffeine gel, ignored the pain and away we went again. At this point I felt sorry for Max, as I knew he could run if he wanted to. All I had in me was what I would call a low power, power walk, just enough to keep me warm enough to keep going.
At some point around this time both me and Max were exhausted and tired and quite honestly bored of the pitch black tarmac road and the light pollution in the distance that never seemed to get any closer. Max decided to get back into the RV and rest, which I thoroughly understood and I wished I could’ve joined him.
There's a difference between running and walking and it’s the muscle groups you use. I had no more run left in me. I said to Max I’m going to plough on, I will get this done I will get to the end, I’d like to say I said something along the lines of get some rest. I’ve been reliably informed that Max just sat on the sofa and passed out. I didn’t care how far I had to go at this point, it was important, I just knew that stopping was no longer an option and if it meant walking, crawling or bum shuffling I was going to get to that sign. After what felt like an eternity I got to something that looks like Vegas. It was Speed Vegas with its big neon lights and huge selection of super cars to hire. This is where I also met the RV, at this point I had been walking along barely being able to keep my eyes open, sleep walking I believe dreaming coming back round again, shouting at the top of my voice, trying to keep myself conscious enough to keep walking forwards.
As I reached the RV I saw my little sister Tiffany head torch on head with a big warm jacket on, ready to join me for the final 10 miles. I can’t tell you how much I needed that at that moment in time, it felt like everything. Every time I stopped I would bend over and rub my shins as hard and as fast as I could, trying to create some other sensation besides pain, the distraction of having Tiffany there was better than any painkiller. A quick swig of coffee turned our head torches on and away we went off into the darkness. It was finally starting to look a bit more suburban and populated, I suspect it was around half past 2 in the morning. It was at this point I noticed my Garmin had 1% on it, which I would have found highly frustrating as we were using my watch for navigation, turn around back to the RV, grab a power pack and charge the watch on the go.
Me and Tiffany walking off into the night, talking about the things we’ve done and the things we’ve seen and just this amazing adventure that was so close to being over, at least we thought so. Now Tiffany is really my little sister, we have different mums but the same father, there is a 19 year age gap between me and my baby sister, I think we’ll both agree that she is far more mature than I am. The surrealness of this person I used to look after as a baby and a toddler now looking after me as we walk towards Las Vegas at 3 o’clock in the morning was not lost on me.
That light pollution that me and Max had seen in the sky hours ago had now turned into a suburban landscape that stretched for as far as the eye could see. Me and Tiffany walking past the hotels on the outskirts of Vegas, huge areas of land with nothing, wide concrete roads, the odd drunk wondering home, stopping of at gas stations for a snack, some sweets, having another competitors RV pulling up alongside us at what must have been 3:30 in the morning to tell us we are so close, it was Rob and his girls on tour and that they were going home for the night and me doing my best to put a brave face and be high energy Frank, actually was a really positive thing.
The whole mind over body thing really does work. I think it was roughly at this point that I started seeing the Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas sign on pretty much every corner, any blue, white and red light I could see in the distance I was convinced that that was the sign. “I’m pretty sure that’s it, there Tiff, it's just on the left, just on the left up there Tiff. It's just off of this street here Tiff.” This conversation went on for at least another 2 hours until we were passing what turns out to be the Las Vegas airport on our right-hand side and in the distance, Tiffany caught sight of our RV, our little white box that we'd been living out of for the last 5 and half days. I could see her amazing, over excited lovely husband Jonathan, I could see Max, just this incredible human and friend and then I could see the boss, Polly, looking equally concerned, relieved and excited.
It was roughly 5:18 in the morning, as always there was someone standing in front of the sign, oddly someone was trying to shoot a rap video on my finish line. I remember Jonathan saying “Run, Run” but I just couldn’t, and I didn’t know whether I wanted to. I walked into the middle of the makeshift rap video and stood there staring, unable to move forward in absolute silent, with absolute silence around me.
Whatever was going on around me was being blocked out. I was a metre and a half away from this sign that I had been trying to get to for 3 and a half months. It was a very other worldly experience.
I’m far from being a religious man but something was stopping me from touching this sign, it was the thought of this all being over, the adventure that we had all been through, the love that we had given and been given and shown over the last 3 and a half months had been immense and humbling and it was stopping me from touching that sign.
I can remember hearing the words faintly quietly in my head, touch the sign, then I can remember very loudly with a very distinctive voice I know very well, it was the boss aka Polly, “touch the sign, get a timestamp” at which point life became very real.
Lots of excitement, lots of photos. I touched the sign and far from being over, it felt like a beginning of what I don’t know but a beginning."
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