WhaleQuest!

by Matt Musson

  “The problem,” explained Bogdon. “Is that your standard design concentrates too much pressure for this course. You want something that spreads the pressure out and lowers the total pounds per square inch, kind of like a snowshoe, only for mud.”

  Bog picked a prototype foot that looked something like a ping pong paddle.

  “This design would certainly spread the pressure across the muddy surface. But, if it sinks into the muck, pulling your foot out will be next to impossible. And, sludge will build up on top. After the first obstacle you would certainly be carrying extra weight.”

  “If we just had a couple of days for testing,” Bogdon wished, “I'm sure we could figure out a design that is optimal for this environment.”

  Freddie interrupted.

  “Ah... Bog. I can tell you right now what the optimal mud design should be. It's obvious.”

  “What do you mean?” said Bogdon, surprised to have his scientific authority challenged. “You can't just pull a design out of thin air, Freddie. Something like this takes thought and a lot of trial and error.”

  “Come on, Bogdon,” said Freddie.”The answer is right in front of your face.”

  Freddie pointed over to a little brackish water creek that ran beside the motel. There was a tall white shorebird meandering along the muddy flats hunting for marsh crabs.

  “Look at that big crane over there. He's already done your testing for you. If you're looking for a foot that can handle the mud – just look at what he is using.”

  Of course, Freddie was correct. After all, a billion shore birds can't all be wrong. But, I don't remember another time I saw someone completely outthink Bogdon Peabody.

  ************

  Chapter 6 – Race Day

  We were up early the next morning and did some serious carbo-loading down at the Internation House of Pancakes. Their all you can eat pancake breakfast was just the ticket. I think Shad actually had sparks flying from his knife and fork!

  However, Club President, Charlie Sinclair cut him off after just fifteen pancakes. Shad protested but we reminded him that the pancakes might not taste as good coming up as going down.

  Following breakfast we pulled out of the IHOP parking lot and headed over to the base. It was kind of neat being stopped at the gate by MP's with automatic weapons. They got us out of the van and opened the hood and used a mirror on a stick to look underneath.

  There weren't any bombs, so they let us come on in. We drove over to the parking lot beside the parade grounds and found a space right up front.

  The heat and humidity slammed us again as we piled out of the air conditioned van. Camp Lejeune is essentially a great big swamp, which comes in handy if you are practicing amphibious maneuvers. But, I sure understand why people spend summer up in the mountains to escape these temperatures.

  Donnie wandered over to the bleachers while the rest of us checked in for the race. We had already sent in our entry forms and money. So, all we had to do was pick up the race numbers to pin to our shirts and get the small computer timing chips that we attached to our socks.

  In addition to our new booney hats, Toby Trundle had some t-shirts printed up just for the occasion. They were white, of course, to better show off mud stains. On the front was printed ‘Company A – Granite Falls Rangers.' On the back were the words ‘Rangers Lead the Way!' We could not wait to change into them and take our postions.

  The crowd swelled quickly. There were several thousand participants and at least that many more spectators were there to cheer and laugh. We saw runners of every shape and size including all kinds of costumed contestants. There were several runners dressed as pigs and one group of women wore prom dresses and tiaras with their running shoes.

  In addition, lining up for the race were plenty of young close cropped Marines togged up in fatigues, jungle boots and combat packs. Their faces were broken by streaks of camouflage green and brown. A few sported Mohawks. And, although they smiled and joked – there was something inherently deadly in their demeanor. These guys were not playing. They were the real deal.

  As the start time approached, we were hot and excited and anxious to wallow in some mud! When they called ‘runners to the starting line', we scooted up to take our positions. We were ready to go and impatient for the starting gun. But, we had one more surprise in store.

  From behind the administration building a jeep came driving toward the assembly. And, when I say it was a jeep, I mean it was a genuine WWII G503 Willys 4X4: a real jeep and not some Hummer wannabe.

  The olive drab vehicle pulled out in front of the crowd and stopped in the middle of race course. Out stepped ‘The Gunny'!

  Looking like he came straight from a training detail, The Gunny sported a vintage Marine uniform with a genuine Drill Instructor hat.

  He was here to give us a little pre-race pep talk, and did not need a microphone to address the crowd. His unaided Marine drill instructor's voice rang out across the parade ground with authority.

  “Shut your pie holes, ladies! Just because you are on a Marine base, it does not mean that you are on the bus.”

  The crowd got instantly quiet. And, more than a few racers snapped to attention as the Gunny began to address the troops.

  “Now, back in the Old Corp, we trained recruits to go to Vietnam. And, for you pukes that are too young to remember, that meant one thing: mud! In Vietnam we lived in mud. We walked in mud. We slept in mud. We ate mud. We bathed in mud. We didn’t like it. But, when Uncle Sam called, by God we did the best we could.”

  “Now I’m no big hero. I got hit heading for the bunkers the same as most of my guys. But… I belonged to a Corp full of heroes!”

  The Gunny paused for a second and then continued.

  “I want you numb nuts to remember one thing while you are running through the mud here today. Marines die. That’s what we’re here for. But, the Corp will live forever.

  That is why Marines are immortal!”

  Despite the sweat, I could feel the goose bumps rising on my arms.

  “For some of you poor unlucky civilians, this is as close as you will ever come to being Marines. So, today on this race course, I want you to run like Marines. I want you to crawl and slither on your bellies like Marines. I want you to be Marines in your heart!”

  His words echoed across the marsh and embedded themselves in my memory.

  “And you teams remember: Marines never leave a man behind! You are not finished until every man in your team is finished.”

  The Gunny scowled across the crowd and it was like he was looking through each and every one of us. Then, slowly his face broke into a huge smile.

  “Go out there today, get muddy, and make me proud.”

  Then, the Gunny snapped to attention and saluted the crowd.

  “Semper Fi!” he shouted.

  From across the assembled ranks of Marines and ‘Marines for a day’ came the thundering reply.

  “HOOAHH!”

  ************

  As the Gunny pulled his jeep to the side of the race course, I heard a voice over my shoulder say, “Hello Charlie.”

  We turned around to find it was the cute Marine recruiter who gave us the hats. She looked very fetching in her running clothes with pixie blond hair poking out from under a green Marine Corp cap.

  “Hi, Lieutenant,” Charlie responded with a big smile. “How do you like the boonies?”

  “They look good,” said the Lieutenant smiling back.”They're very manly.”

  That is when I realized that this pretty young woman was actually flirting with Charlie. And, I wanted to bury my head in some mud! I knew Charlie would never be able to let it go.

  “What do you say, Lieutenant?” Charlie inquired. “How about a little kiss for luck?”

  No! I thought. I can’t stand it. Someone please shoot the starter's gun!

  “I'll tell you what, Charlie,” said the flirty recruiter.”If you can
beat me to the finish line – you'll get your kiss.”

  “That’s a bet,” Charlie replied, grinning hugely.

  He leaned into the rest of us and gloated. “What can I say fellas? It's a gift.”

  “Yeah, but you still have to beat her,” said Thor.

  Charlie just scoffed in reply.

  Then the moment we were waiting for finally came. We heard the crack of the starter's gun and like an overfilled puddle two thousand runners began flowing out across the line.

  “Pace yourselves guys,” yelled Thor. “It's only a 5K – but covered in the mud it's still going to be a long race!”

  We could not run at first. We were penned in by bodies everywhere. For a few seconds we walked, before we were finally able to break into a jog.

  The course was basically a 5K square. The first leg was a large ½ K turn to the right that lined up on a drainage ditch that was almost a full kilometer long. For the Mud Run, the Marine Corp had pumped water out of a nearby canal and flooded this section about twelve inches deep. The water slowed us down some, but the bottom was mostly grass, so we were not sinking in. Plus, the crowd had begun to spread out. We finally had running room!

  In front of me, an old guy danced into the water and started splashing around. I could swear he was crooning ‘Singing in the Rain' as I passed him on my right.

  On my left, one of those Prom gown girls came shooting down the canal. With her hands she held the skirt high above the water and made surprisingly good time.

  “Just wait till that dress gets waterlogged,” Toby observed. “She'll be carrying an extra sixty pounds, by the time she gets to the finish line.”

  We made it to the end of the canal, and I was puffing pretty hard. The entire team was staying together at a good clip. But, we still had a long way to go.

  “Hurry up, Guys!” Charlie pleaded. “Just put one foot in front of the other.”

  Of course, Charlie had more than just mud on his mind.

  When the drainage ditch met the canal, we took a left and the water got noticeably deeper. It was probably three feet in some places. And, for the first time we were squishing into muck on the bottom. After a few yards of deeper water, we weren't really running anymore. We were sloshing and slogging at a quick walk.

  After 100 yards we hit a sandy bank crossing where we exited from the canal back onto dry land. For fifty yards we ran along dripping and squishing water out of our running shoes.

  By the time we hit the first mud pit, there was some separation in our team. Of course Charlie and Thor were out front, they were the natural athletes.

  Toby, Bogdon and I were the middle of the pack. We were huffing along, but still moving at a respectable pace.

  Behind us, but gaining, was little Freddie. Freddie's a good athlete too. But, he lost a lot of time in the canal. The rest of us could slog through the 3 foot deep water, but it hit Freddie chest high. He had to swim it.

  Last but not least, big Shad McReynolds brought up the rear. Shad has never been very fast. But, he runs like a tank. You better stay out of his way once he gets moving!

  The mud obstacles were crawling pits. You had to get down on your knees and elbows and crawl under the overhead barbed wire. However, for this race, the sharp wire was replaced with plastic streamers and flags. This meant you could stand up going through the obstacle. Even so, Marine DI's were stationed on either side. If you did stand up – they ran you back to the start and made you go through again.

  The funny thing about the crawl pit is that when Shad hit the mud – he did not slow down at all! He shot through like some kind of huge mud lizard. I saw several Marine Instructors staring open mouthed and pointing. They were awed by Shad's slithering ability.

  We came out of the mud pit bunched closer together, the mud coating us like thick coffee colored paint. As we glistened like wet chocolate soldiers in the early morning sun, we laughed and pointed at each other as we spit the mud from our lips. We spontaneously gathered up and threw our hands in.

  “RANGERS LEAD THE WAY!” we shouted and hi fived the circle.

  “I feel like I just discovered practical plasma fusion!” Bogdon grinned as he wiped mud from his glasses.

  “Yeah? Well, let’s fuse our butts down the road,” Charlie replied. “I have a date at the finish line!”

  So, we all took a deep breath and returned to the race.

  From here we followed a curving path about a hundred yards to Mt. Suribachi. Mt. Suribachi was a twenty foot tall pile of dirt deposited in the middle of this flat coastal plain. It was named for the mountain on Iwo Jima where Marines made the historic flag raising in WWII.

  Mt. Suribachi was here to torment tired racers. Twenty feet does not seem that high – but the angle was almost straight up. Plus when you got to the flat summit there were three walls that had to be scaled before you could come down on the other side.

  Since plenty of other dripping runners beat us up Suribachi, the path up the side was muddy and slick. Thor led us up to the hillside and then dropped back to the tail end, so he could help anyone who had a climbing problem.

  “Stay low,” ordered Thor. “Keep your feet moving! Jab your hands into the dirt to keep from slipping!”

  We hit the incline running and our momentum took us about half way up. Then we were forced to scratch our way to the top while our soaking wet running shoes kept trying to slide us back down to the bottom. I was almost to the summit when my right foot slipped, and I quickly jammed it back into the mud. Unfortunately, I stepped on Bogdon's hand.

  “Youch!” yelled poor Bog as he lost his handhold and slid all the way down the muddy trail on his belly.

  Going down, Bogdon looked like little Ralphie slipping down Santa's slide in A Christmas Story. (Come to think of it, they both wear the same type of glasses.)

  When Bog hit the bottom, Thor was there to help. He got Bogdon to jog back about thirty feet and get a running start. This time, Bog made it right to the top and did not get stepped on. Thor followed close behind pushing Bogdon anytime he looked like he might slip again.

  Now that we were on the summit, we had to scale the three walls. We had spent some time studying this situation and came up with a system. We let Shad get to the wall first. Then he turned around in front and took his position. One by one, Bogdon, Toby, Freddie and I ran up and put our right foot into Shad's cupped hands and were launched over the top. Since Shad is as strong as an ox he tossed some of us higher than we needed to go!

  Once the four of us were over, Shad moved back and let Thor and Charlie take position. Charlie stood on his hands and knees with Thor behind him against the wall. Shad then stepped up on Charlie's back and crawled up onto Thor's shoulders. From there he was able lean over the top of the wall and flop over.

  After Shad crossed the wall, Toby, and I lifted Bogdon up close to the top. When Charlie and Thor hit their side of the wall running, their momentum carried them up most of the way. And, at the crest, they were able to grab Bogdon's hand and pull themselves across.

  The first wall was a little tricky. However, we got the hang of our process by the second wall. And, the third was like going over a garden gate!

  The trail down Mt. Suribachi was as steep as the one going up. It was also soggy and muddy. So, we let nature take its course and slid down the muddy trail on our butts. It was quick, and it was fun!

  Oh, I should mention that we saw our amputee friends on Mt. Suribachi. With their improvised three pronged crane feet they passed us like we were standing still. However, their trailing man did slow down long enough to high five Freddie before he went shooting past. Their feet were designed for mud – but those prongs were better than climbing spikes going up and down that big pile of dirt.

  Coming off Suribachi we hit another shallow canal. This time we crossed it instead of following it for any distance. At that point we caught up with that Prom queen. Her sagging dress was a soaking sheet of mud.
It probably weighed as much as she did. When she came to the second canal she just flopped down into it and started agitating like a washing machine. She was trying to get some of the heavy layers off her dress.

  She gave us a side handed Prom queen wave as we plodded by.

  Running along the bank we paralleled the canal for about fifty yards. Then we reached another crossing area and started over. The going was easier because they had rope guides strung across. However, those sneaky Marines also put an extra deep trench right in the middle. We were moving along in about two feet of water when we hit the deep spot and suddenly glubbed under.

  If you held onto the rope it was easy enough to pull on across. If you lost your grip, you had to swim. There were several leatherneck lifeguards standing by just in case.

  We were about four kilometers into the race and the last kilometer was a straight shot to the finish line. It was good trail all the way – until you hit the largest mud pit right at the end. That last straight section may have been the hardest part of the race – because we pushed ourselves while we carried a ton of temporary water weight gain.

  The final mud pit stretched over one hundred feet. It had a sand and gravel approach that morphed into light brown slime. It was two feet deep and built for crawling.

  I was laughing like a hyena when I splashed into that muck. After all, the finish line was in sight and mud is what we came for!

  Once more, Shad was the last Ranger into the pit. However, in this hundred foot monster – ‘Shad the Mud Machine' put on a dazzling display! Participants and observers yelled encouragement as he hydroplaned through.

  As Shad came out the other side, he raised up out of the muddy water in triumph. All seven Rangers clasped hands and we crossed the finish line together.

  Rangers don't leave a man behind either.

  We all finished, but Shad was definitely the big dog – or at least the mud puppy of the hour. I heard him shout above the crowd.

  “I'm Shadrack McReynolds of the Granite Falls Rangers. I'm half boy and half alligator. And, I can eat a horse!”

  Onlookers circled round congratulating him. And, the Gunny himself came over to congratulate our muck covered teammate. Photographers snapped picture after picture of the two “mud brothers” shaking hands. Shad and the Gunny appeared in newspapers across the country the next day!