With another day's
time and distance, the fight at Haleiwa began to seem like a rude but necessary
awakening on two levels. First, to the real dangers of some
regions—"Nowhere is paradise," said Gil Dias. "Every place got its
thugs." And then to the subtle unreality that had been claiming us. It was
one thing to reduce our wants to those of animal subsistence, to reject for a
time the coveting of property or power and to treasure instead a soft stride, a
fine tan, a good heat tolerance and a colorful character to run with. But to
fancy that, like the dolphins, we might fashion a lean and mobile society on
those values was dangerous in a world where there was no escape from the
vengeful and dispossessed. "We all have to live together," said
Henderson. "It's a shame, but there it is."
day took us 21 miles to Keehi Lagoon Park, near the Honolulu airport. From
there it would be only a 10,000-meter sprint to the finish we had selected in
Ala Moana Park—out and away from the towers of Waikiki. Again Peck and
McCormack won the leg, finishing together. "We're million-meter
racers," they said. We had run past the Primo brewery. Two days later it
was shut down by its corporate master, Schlitz.
Jack Scaff and
Shultz were late to finish. When they arrived they were walking unsteadily,
like desert survivors, both completely spent. Scaff had pleaded with his wife
for a ride.
dear," she had said, driving on.
They came in with
arms linked. "We took a tour of a taffy factory," said Scaff, shaking
his head. "Harvey was yanking it out of the machine and eating it by the
Shultz sat down
and dropped his day's findings, a land snail shell, a tube of Lip Lustre, 20
feet of nylon cord, a red flag from the back of a lumber truck and a bolt that
must have weighed four pounds. "Three hours, 31 minutes," he said,
stopping his watch. We all looked at Scaff.
"We were together the whole way!"
"I can't help
it if you don't know how to time."
After that, the
celebrations seemed to bleed into each other. We made the final six miles the
next morning, escorted through traffic-clotted urban streets to Ala Moana Park
by police on motorcycles. The early finishers turned to embrace the followers.
We ended up in our lavalavas at the Scaff home. It turned out that I had run
the 312 miles in 35:11:51, an average of 6:45 a mile. I had gained one pound.
Henderson had finished in 36:01:00; McCormack in 36:38:53; Jones in 37:21:48;
Peck in 38:02:54; Erb in 41:16:37; Gorey in 41:59:06. Shaffer was 10th, in
43:01:02; Shultz was 14th, in 44:20:57; and Scaff 16th in 48:58:28, a time that
was lustily booed.