Going the extra mile
Creating a hero's welcome for a home-town Hardrocker

This year’s edition of the Hardrock 100 race came with a slightly different slant to it. A co-worker of mine with the Town of Silverton’s Parks and Rec Department managed to get into the 2024 race. Quite the achievement in and of itself since you’ve got to win a spot by lottery. This is akin to getting bitten by a shark when you live in Nebraska. 

This colleague has a similar humorous but eccentric perspective on life as yours truly, and when he first told us he’d gotten into the race, my drug-free but active mind immediately started envisioning scenarios. What should happen when he comes barreling down the street and crosses that finish line to “kiss the hard rock?” How can we make the race special for him? Make it something he’ll remember all those years from now when he’s sitting on his porch yelling at kids to “get off my lawn?”

Since I’m much closer to this phase of life than him, I’ve got the wisdom and resources and am quite capable of coming up with all sorts of ways to make the occasion special. What if we hire a crop duster to write something across the sky? Too expensive … I immediately blotted the idea out of my mind. 

What about all of us in the cheering section wearing matching costumes as we’re screaming from the sidelines? Possible, but I don’t have contacts in the costume industry to supply us. Cost is also a limiting factor. 

How about a full-fledged rock-n-roll band to play a rousing rendition of Queen’s, “We are the Champions?” Running electrical cords to power the instruments could be a bit of a problem. In addition, the finish line is on a dirt road – yet another conundrum to overcome if we kick up dust or it happens to get muddy. 

Who says it has to be a full-blown band? Why not get a single person to play an instrument as my buddy comes down Reese Street to kiss the rock? For one, you eliminate the electrical cord problem and the hassle of moving all that equipment out onto the street. 

My buddy’s girlfriend plays the cello, so right there we’ve got a potential solution. Then again, she probably doesn’t have much time to practice, let alone perform Beethoven’s 97th concerto in Z minor when her man comes sprinting down Reese – (“sprint” being a relative term in this instance.)

Maybe some sort of horn? Fortunately, another good friend of mine happens to play trumpet in the Silverton Brass Band, and he’s also amenable to participating in all sorts of whack-job schemes I come up with. I mentioned my horn idea, and he immediately experienced a brain lapse and jumped on board, and plans were hastily set in motion.

Then the beginning of the race happened. By the way, going to the start of the Hardrock 100 is something everyone around here should experience. The excitement level is incredible; I’ve never seen so many people pumped up at 5:30 a.m. 

I love the entire philosophy of the Hardrock 100, and I quite enjoy telling tourists that doing the race is like climbing Mount Everest from sea level then turning around and running back down. This makes me think I would’ve liked to try this ultra-distance running thing all those years ago. I’m really dating myself on this one, but back in my day, we only had “The Big Four”: Kendall Mountain Run in Silverton; Kennebec Pass race in the La Platas; Pikes Peak Marathon in Colorado Springs; and Imogene Pass Run, from Ouray to Telluride.

Unfortunately, ultra-racing hadn’t even become a thing yet when I reached the twilight of my running career. I knew it was close to the end when I crossed the finish line of Imogene the last time I did it, looked at my total running time and realized it was an hour slower than my fastest clocking 10 years previously. I hate when those things happen.

Fortunately for my friend, he is still in his prime and had an incredible race, kissing that rock in fourth place. Quite the achievement for one of Silverton’s own.

For me, I’ll have to admit the best part happened at the end when a huge group of family, friends and locals cheered him on at the finish. The sheriff escorted him with flashing lights and siren down Snowden, and everyone in attendance went wild. The only disappointment? The trumpet got drowned out by all the clapping and cheering – a small price to pay for an incredible set of memories and well worth all the hassle it took to pull it off.

David G. Swanson is a resident of Silverton and former distance runner for whom yoga rules these days.