7-23-12
I
was out running yesterday, in the noon-day sun and thinking about the trip we
just finished to Jackson. While there I thought a lot about Matt and the time
we spent running that week. It was another “Meen Ween” adventure in the van.
First
we drove to Devil’s Tower so the Ween and someone long forgotten to me could
climb the tower. Matt and I hung out down below. I remember being dressed in a
cowboy hat and a turtle neck and standing at the base looking up. Not much more
than that though.
And
then we were off to Jackson so the same two could climb the middle Teton. The
Ween was getting in shape for a trip he was going to take to climb a mountain
in South America. Matt and I may have had a tent or we just slept on the ground
covering in pine bows. I know that we had attempted that during the winter when
we went winter camping with The Ween in the Snowies. The Ween dug a snow cave
and we thought we’d be in there too but it was too small for three.
On the middle Teton Matt had brought a
plastic bottle full of Kool-aide. I remember that we broke into his stash and
drank it all. Much later, as Matt was ending his career with us here on this
planet I broke the news to him about the Kool-aide. “I knew it! I knew you
mother fuckers drank my Kool-aide!” Often Matt and I talked about that trip to
Jackson.
At
one point, out on a run around one of the lakes, we started racing each other.
Matt and I came of age when the Europeans were showing the Americans how to
nudge and bump and we’d learn a few tricks about how to push a hipbone in or
kick an ankle. The kids in our local races, and more specifically their
coaches, hated us for these tactics. As Matt and I raced along one of the dirt
trails I pushed in his hip flexer to get an advantage and he elbowed me in the
throat. He got to the van before I did! Whenever Matt and I’d recount this tale
of kicks and elbows we’d regale each other with the kicking match that took
place after the Grand Canyon run.
From
Jackson we drove to Green River and competed in a local road race
“mini-marathon” (11.1 miles). In the newspaper clipping from the Green River
Star dated Wed. June 7th 1978 it shows Matt in the old American flag
shorts wearing Nike Elites. The Meen Ween won the race in 1:06 wearing a pair
of Elites also. Matt came in at 1:08; first in the 17 and under division. Me,
wearing a beautiful pair of Nike Stings, came in at 1:11.
I
was thinking about this race because of those Nike Stings. Those were beautiful
shoes. The front part of the shoes was brown split leather and the back was
grasshopper green nylon. With the big white Nike swoosh on the side and a gum
rubber sole these shoes were different then the Nike Elite. At the time,
everyone wore the Elite. But I found them to break at the heel cup and my
Elites angled inward. Don’t get me wrong though, the Elites were an excellent
shoe but the Stings, now, there was a shoe that was difficult to find.
That
fall my brother Ed took those bad boys from me and raced for CSU in those
shoes. When he returned them in the spring he had worn a huge hole in the side
of the shoe. When I think about Ed’s form he ran like how the Chi and barefoot
runners advise people to run today.
We had a great trip that week. One of
many outings I feel so fortunate to have been apart of. The Meen Ween is still
out there, running around the globe. Me, I’m up in the woods running with RH
and Matt, well, he’s got bigger fish to fry.
