Zambia! An action-packed day at Victoria Falls

 At the end of October, Pete and I headed to Zambia for our one-year-delayed trip with our friends Andrew and Jenny. Five days before our flight, our plans became highly uncertain when Pete was told a 3.5 week-old bee sting may have turned into a joint infection or blood clot, both of which would preclude him from going anywhere. After some serious string-pulling by his PA, he managed to get a MRI, ultrasound, and multiple blood tests within 24 hours. Fortunately, it turned out to be "just" a tissue infection that required a strong dose of antibiotics. This was a frustrating turn of events because he had been to the doctor the week before for the same problem and they told him to take more ibuprofen. Sigh. With antibiotics in hand, details on the IV antibiotics that he could get at a Zambian hospital if the first course didn't work, and guidance on what to do in case of a suspected case of C. diff (which, or course presents itself exactly like travelers diarrhea), off we went. 

Our flight route took us from San Francisco to Dubai on Emirates Airlines, which was fantastic. We had an overnight layover, and the airline provided us with dinner and a hotel. After a 15 hour flight, it was so nice to lay down before our next seven hour flight to Zambia. We were worried about Covid testing requirements if we left the airport, but the airline assured us it would not be a problem. Sure enough, we did not need to show new test results to go through security in Dubai since we already had our boarding passes and did not have to re-check in for our flight. 

We arrived in the capital of Zambia, Lusaka, in the early afternoon and headed to a camp outside of town to recover from our long flights. We knew that we'd be sleeping in a tent for the next three weeks, so we opted for a proper bed to try to get over our jet lag as quickly as possible. After a good nights sleep and an enjoyable morning at Pioneer Camp, we headed back to the airport for our flight to Livingstone on the southern border of the country. My seat was in the sun for much of the flight, so I was nearly denied entrance to the airport because my skin temperature was too high. Fortunately, the health screener let me sit in the air conditioned room for a few minutes so I could cool down. Whew! 

The plan was for us to have a day touring around Victoria Falls before meeting up with Jenny and Andrew. After we got settled in our tent cabin at the Victoria Falls Waterfront Lodge outside of Livingstone, we headed to the lodge to inquire about our dinner options. As we walked into the parking lot, we spotted a familiar looking Land Cruiser, but we were not completely sure it was our friends' truck until Andrew came around the side. Finding each other was a major success! We had not worked out a communication plan in case something went wrong, and plenty of things can go wrong, so seeing them was a relief. They had arrived a day earlier than planned, but we decided to stick with the original schedule anyway. They needed a day to rest and provision before we headed back out on the road, and we wanted to get a glimpse of the falls.

We started our day at Victoria Falls, or more appropriately - Mosi-oa-Tunya (smoke that thunders in the Kololo and Lozi languages) - with a short boat trip down the Zambezi River to Livingstone Island. The island sits on the edge of the falls, giving spectacular views up and down the gorge. Mosi-oa-Tunya is one of the seven wonders of the world and a World Heritage Site, so we knew it would be spectacular, but being that close to a 330 foot (100 meter) curtain of water was incredible. And we were there in the dry season! Although we were not seeing the full force of the falls, one of the advantages is that we could actually SEE the falls. During the rainy season, the spray from the waterfall is often so thick that you cannot see the falls (hence the name, smoke that thunders). We were greeted with lovely views and rainbows arching across the gorge. Another feature of visiting in the dry season is that you can swim in nature's version of an infinity pool at the very edge of the falls. After a short swim from the island, we were guided to the Devil's Pool, a deep basin with a broad ledge perfect for perching and looking over the edge of the falls. It was exhilarating! Pete and I were the first ones in our group of eight to be guided up to the ledge so we could look over the edge and have our picture taken 100 times. I was pretty happy to get my feet out of the deep pool where we were being bitten, often times quite hard, by some type of little fish. Lying on the rock ledge and looking over the falls was a bit surreal and pretty incredible (and felt completely safe, Mom). We had a lovely breakfast on the island before our boat trip back along the quiescent Zambezi. This was our first look at some of the water birds that we would become quite familiar with as our trip progressed.  

Our first glimpse of the "Smoke that Thunders" from the boat

Standing on the edge of Livingstone Island and a 

good look down the gorge that the water tumbles into

A double rainbow across the gorge

Looking over the edge into the abyss

Look, Mom! No hands! (the guide has my foot)

Pete flying out of the Devil's Pool

Post-swim breakfast

We knew Livingstone Island would likely be our best opportunity for getting a close-up glimpse of the falls, and it did not disappoint. During the dry season, it is recommended to view the falls from Zimbabwe rather than Zambia. Only about a quarter of the falls are visible from Zambia, much of which often has little flowing water during the dry season. Unlike most waterfalls I have seen, Mosi-oa-Tunya falls off the river plain into a wide horizontal gorge (instead of a vertical one), creating the largest falling curtain of water in the world (aka not the tallest or widest waterfall, but collectively the biggest). This gorge, which is closed on both ends, then funnels all the water into another gorge that is perpendicular to the first. The second gorge forms the border between Zim and Zam (imagine an offset "T" where the top bar is the falls and the vertical is the river gorge). Due to Covid-related border restrictions, however, it was going to be a bit of a hassle, if not impossible, to cross over to Zimbabwe for the day.

Back on dry land, our next stop was the Victoria Falls World Heritage Site just down the road. There are a number of walking paths that lead out to various vantage points within the park. After the reading I had done before our trip, I was expecting the falls to be completely dry on the Zambian side, so I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of water cascading into the gorge. There were also very few people in the park, so we mostly had the walking paths to ourselves. One of the other nice things about going to the falls in the dry season is that you can see the underlying geology of the basalt gorge that the river has been cutting into for thousands of years. In fact, downstream from the current gorge are seven other gorges that were the former sites of the waterfall. The river keeps cutting back successively through the basalt fault lines. It is a very clear reminder of how drastically water can alter a landscape. 

Looking down the gorge from the dry side towards 

Devil's Pool.The gorge running off to the left is 

the gorge that takes the water downstream.

End of the gorge on the Zambian side of the falls

Our last activity for the day was an extra special one. Because we couldn't go to the Zimbabwe side, we decided to take a helicopter flight over the falls, though the series of gorges downstream of the falls, and over Mosi-oa-Tunya National Park. It was my first flight, so Pete let me sit in the front. He has been in many helicopters doing water sampling in New Zealand or getting ferried around in the Antarctic. We were in a small helicopter that sits four people, so it was just the two of us and the pilot. When we arrived they wanted to confirm that we were doing the 17 minute flight, but I told them we wanted to do the 22 minute flight. They are so dialed into their fuel needs that they had to add fuel to the helicopter for that extra five minutes! The flight pattern took us over the falls multiple times, giving us a really great aerial view of the river, waterfall, and downstream gorges. The flight over the falls was amazing, but the gorge was even more incredible. We were feet above the surface of the river, pinned in by the rocky walls, and banking hard to the left and right as we made our way downstream through the seven gorges. Our pilot had clearly done that flight thousands of time (thankfully!). We circled the National Park a couple times, seeing buffalo, elephants crossing the river, and a few zebra before landing back at the hangar.

The full view of the river plain, waterfall and the river gorge 

(the bridge marks the border between Zim and Zam)

Aerial view of the multiple gorges that have 

been carved by the waterfall over time

Flying out of Batoka Gorge

Swimming elephants!

After an exciting day at the falls, we wound down at camp with the monkeys and tried to steer clear of the hippos wandering around after dark. 

this clever monkey knew how to use the hose bib

Next up is the Lower Zambezi, complete with puppies and a stuck Land Cruiser. 

The hills of Iowa and bridges of Madison County

In early September, I travelled to Des Moines, Iowa, to crew and pace for my sister Stephanie as she embarked on her first 100 mile run. Me and all three of my siblings started running at various points in our lives, either purely for exercise or as an effective way to keep anxiety at bay. Sarah, Steph, and I all eventually started running long distances. This gave us occasional opportunities throughout the years to train and race together. Steph and I trained for our first marathon in 2002 while we were both living in Oregon. We run at a similar pace, which has helped facilitate many joint training runs, as well as quite a few races. 

10 km race with all my siblings 

Sarah took her running to a new level when she started doing Ironman triathlons. They are pretty inspiring races to be around, so I've traveled for three of the five she's done to be her cheerleader and to get some quality time with my niece, Madeline. Spectators are not allowed to provide aid or pace an Ironman triathlete, so being Sarah's cheering section was our lone role. 

Steph has remained focused mostly on running but has increasingly been upping her distance from mere marathons (42 km) to 100 km races. Much to my delight, she has also embraced trail running, which is all my joints allow. We've started doing "destination" races every few years, such as in Death Valley and Joshua Tree. When she offhandedly asked last spring if anyone wanted to crew for her 100 mile race, I jumped at the opportunity. I have no intention of running that far, but helping someone else achieve that goal felt like a pretty worthy endeavor.

I arrived in Des Moines on a Friday afternoon, just in time to pack up Steph's drop bags and deliver them to the race staff. That evening, we talked through logistics of gear, food, and vehicles, and made a rough plan of when her spouse David and I would be jumping in to pace her. Early in our planning for the event, I told Steph that I would pace her for at least 20 of the 37 miles that she was allowed to have someone with her. That gave me a good training target and allowed her to enlist others to pace the rest of the distance. As my training progressed and race day approached, I knew I could cover more distance, if needed, so that became our plan. 

Death Valley trail marathon - 2014

At 3:30 am the next morning, we woke up, made some caffeinated drinks, and packed our gear into the car. The start of the Booneville Backroads Ultra was about 30 minutes away and start time was 5 am. Arriving early to a race is always a good idea because you never know how long the line will be at the port-a-loo.

Just after 5 am, 37 intrepid runners, aged 26 to 62, left the starting line at Badger Creek State Recreation Area. The time limit for the course was 32 hours; Steph was hoping to finish in 26 hours (!). After a fitful night of sleep, thanks to Archie the cat, I decided to head back to Steph and David's house and try to get a couple hours of sleep before finding Steph along the course. 

Last minute gear adjustments

They're off!

Crew were not allowed to drive the exact running route for safety reasons, but there were areas where the "running course" and the "driving course" overlapped. Fortunately for me, these locations were often at or near several of the covered bridges dotted throughout Madison County. We live next to the Felton Covered Bridge (I can see it from where I am writing this post), which is a pretty spectacular landmark. In fact, it is the tallest covered bridge in the country. Still, seeing a variety of covered bridges of pop culture fame seemed like a fun activity for the day even though the bar of comparison was pretty high. There are six intact bridges scattered around Madison County, the highest concentration in Iowa and the western Mississippi River Valley.

Felton Covered Bridge

The first bridge, Imes, was near mile 22 on the race route. I assumed I had missed my sister at this stop, so I took a quick look at the bridge and carried on to Holliwell Bridge at mile 36. It was a perfect day for exploring (and running) - a light breeze, temperatures in the low 70s, slightly overcast skies - so I found a nice rock to sit on and cheered runners on as they came through the bridge.

Imes Bridge - oldest of the bridges; built in 1870

Holliwell Bridge - the longest bridge at 122 feet

Inside of Holliwell Bridge - one of two without a fire suppression system

After waiting for what I thought would be the correct amount of time, my sister had not come through yet. I started getting worried that I had missed her, so I high-tailed it to mile 42 where there was a crewed aid station that would almost certainly be tracking runners as they came in. I knew I would be able to check-in there to see if she was ahead of me. I had the crew bag for mile 50, so I wanted to be sure I was not behind her. As it turns out, I almost certainly left Holliwell Bridge minutes before she came through the bridge. Bummer! 

Leaving the aid station at mile 42

As the running course made its way through Winterset and then to the north, I went a bit further afield to see Cedar Bridge and Roseman Bridge. Cedar Bridge recently reopened after it was nearly completely destroyed by fire. It is also the only bridge still open to vehicle traffic. Roseman Bridge is one of the three bridges that is in its original location. 

 

Cedar Bridge

Roseman Bridge

Back in Winterset, I visited the town park, where the Cutler-Donahue Bridge now sits. It is one of two bridges with a peaked roof and is the shortest in length of all the bridges. I also stopped at a gas station in Winterset to put coffee into my insulated mug. I hardly ever drink coffee, but I thought the caffeine might come in handy later in the night/early morning given my lack of sleep the night before and the little sleep I was expecting in my future. 

Cutler-Donahue Bridge

Lightning strike??

I caught back up with my sister near the Hogback Bridge, the last of the covered bridges. The sun had decided to make an appearance, making things a bit warmer, but Steph was looking great and maintaining a good pace. 

Hogback Bridge

The next aid station was at mile 50, the halfway mark, and our first planned rendezvous site. I arrived at the aid station about 40 minutes before my sister came through, so I cheered on the other runners while I waited. If you ever need a dose of inspiration, go volunteer at an aid station of an ultra and be amazed at the runners that are still upright, moving forward, and often times smiling. Steph came into the aid station at mile 50 right on schedule and ate some much needed calories while I refilled her water reservoir. Runners consume calories out on the route, as well, but the aid stations provide an opportunity for items that are too bulky to carry in your pack like bananas, pb&j sandwiches, and coke.  

Leaving the halfway point

The plan was for me to advance to the 63 mile aid station (also the start/finish line) where I would join Steph on the route as her pacer. After looking at the route, though, I decided to meet her at mile 57 because I was concerned it would be getting dark before she got to mile 63 and I had both of her headlamps. She crested the hill at mile 57 just as the sun was setting, so I was happy I made the stop. There had been some gnarly hills between miles 50 and 57, so Steph's pace had slowed a bit, but she was still in good shape. 

I met up with David at mile 63 where I changed into my running gear, prepped my hydration vest and reflective gear, and waited for Steph to arrive. Mile 63 was the first place the 100 milers could pick up their pacer. I was slated to pace the first 10 miles, David the next 11 miles (so he could go home and let the dogs out), and then I would take another 10 or possibly 16, depending on Steph's needs. Steph came into mile 63 around 9 pm, 16 hours after she had left the start. We headed back out onto the course after getting her some additional layers, lights, and fuel. 

When I mentioned this trip to my co-workers, the first thing many of them said was, "Iowa. Must be flat." I knew better than to expect flat, but the hills of Iowa are no joke! They are not particularly tall or steep, but they are numerous and rolling, so the elevation gain was adding up. Steph wasn't too thrilled with hills by this point in the race, so my job was to "inspire" her to make it to the top of each one. The darkness certainly helped! The night turned quite chilly as fog rolled in, also making navigation a bit more challenging (the course was unmarked). My other job was to try to keep Steph moving forward at a pace that would get her back to the finish line in 26 hours or in 32 hours at the latest. This is the most difficult part of being a pacer, in my opinion. My legs were fresh at that point so setting a pace was no problem for me, but my sister had been running for 16 hours, was likely running a calorie deficit, and was certainly sleep deprived. If you push too hard, you can break a person physically and mentally, but you have to push somewhat because the mental demons telling you to quit are real, especially now that it was cold and dark. We pushed on through the darkness and were buoyed when we saw the lights of the church and aid station 73 appeared in the darkness. 

I drove straight to the aid station at mile 84 so I could try to get a few hours of sleep before heading back onto the course. I was still quite awake when I arrived, but did manage to get some sleep before my alarm woke me at 4:00 am. Based on our pace the previous 10 miles, I expected Steph and David to be arriving near 5 am. I changed into my running clothes again and walked around a bit to loosen my muscles. It was still quite chilly outside, so I hunkered down in the car until I saw a pair of headlamps approaching the aid station. I was also drinking the coffee I had procured in Winterset to give myself a bit of a jumpstart. 

When Steph and David arrived at the aid station, Steph did not look good. She was cold, under fueled because her GI track was in knots, sleep deprived, and probably dehydrated. She was coaxed into a chair by one of the aid station volunteers and quickly covered with a flannel blanket. She wasn't sure if she could keep going, so the volunteers and I were offering anything that might help her go back out: broth, cooked breakfast, coffee, warm coke, a nap. As she was falling asleep in the chair, she looked at me and said, "my mind is broken." At that point I stopped pushing. During a training run in July in MN, we had talked about this run and the mental stamina that would be needed to make it to the end. I asked her how she would know if she needed to stop before the finish line and she told me she would stop when her mind was broken. Steph doesn't remember that conversation well, but it was something that stuck with me. When she said those words at mile 84, I knew that was the end of the run. 

We drove back to Des Moines and got her into bed. David fell asleep shorty thereafter in the recliner; he hadn't gotten any sleep during the night. Remember that coffee? Yep, sleeping was NOT in my future. My body was twitching because of the caffeine so I headed out for a run to get it out of my system. It took 15 miles for that to happen! 

Steph was disappointed to be logging a DNF (did not finish) for the event, but I reminded her that she had just run 84 MILES (!), 21 miles farther than she had ever run and 80 miles farther than most anyone else on the planet wants to run. I was happy I could be around for a couple days after the run to help her process her experience and realize that she had accomplished something amazing, even if it was not what she had envisioned. As I get older, I realize more and more that we have to fail to learn and be better. This is not something our culture focuses on, particularly with social media feeds that are filled with "perfect" stories of success. We just have to be willing to learn from our failures rather than let them hinder our progress. I am so proud of my sister and have no doubt that I will be crewing/pacing her again sometime soon.