LAGUNA MAN WINS PACIFIC CREST TRAIL 50

Fast Fred Shufflebarger terrorized the local populace at the recent Pacific Crest Trail 50 Miler. Employing a subtle strategy, go out fast and pick up the pace, the Laguna Beach native annihilated a strong field of ultra(c)distance thinclads. Running confidently and even gracefully, Fred mastered the rocky and sometimes brushey course in a record smashing 6:35:48. This was an especially remarkable feat considering the Laguna Man tumbled, bonking his knee and tearing a large gash in his hip the day before and topped that off by sinking a noggin sized dent in the wall while getting into bed.

When asked how he felt about his victory Fred exclaimed, "I knew I would win, it was simply a matter of convincing everyone else. When Terry Hughes dropped out at 28 miles, I knew I had made my point. I came, I ran and I kicked ass," blurted the enthusiastic Shuffler. "And Glory Be, they haven't seen anything yet. Wait till Western States, then I'll really make monkeys out of these pretenders."

While Fred surprised the crowd by winning, John Loeschhorn astounded everyone by finishing. In the days leading up to the race, Jimmy the Greek had set the odds at 20 to 1 against such an occurrence. On learning of John's finish, Dymphno Serna, perennial Loeschhorn doubter and critic said, "Wow, am I glad I didn't pick up any of that action; I could have lost my new Volvo on that one."

Loeschhorn, a widely known, chronic complainer, has been suffering with a groin injury since last August when some of his private parts dropped off while training for the Angeles Crest 100. Best known as marathoner, he can be a potent competitor on the trails, even in the midst of his most pitiful wailing as witnessed by his 5th place finish at Western States in 1986. In that fateful race, the ABC cameras focused on him, an apparent lifeless heap on No Hands Bridge. Slowly, a frown cracked to a smile and then a laugh and he said, "To think I've been reduced to this." He rose, staggered briefly and ran to the finish.

With scarcely a hint of a whine in his voice Loeschhorn allowed he was especially pleased to have finished the race. "Now I won't have to listen to any more boring lectures on the importance of finishing races from Fred Cowles and Dymphno Serna. I've taken all the abuse I can stand,"said Loeschhorn before the race. "I'll finish this thing if I have to crawl on my belly like a snake." It is not known whether Loeschhorn ran or slithered to the finish.

The legendary Huntington Man was strangely absent from the race. Dave Warady, the Huntington Man, shook the ultra world to its knees when he won the West Coast University 50 Miles last October. As the result of some shamelessly over written newspaper reports concerning his victory and his voracious appetites, The Huntington Man has become one of the most feared runners in the southwest.

This reporter asked Fast Fred if the absence of the Huntington Man made any difference in the outcome of the race. "Just who is this Huntington Man that dogs my steps," demanded Fred. "Even the thought of your question offends me. This Huntington Man may be a legend on the roads, but his prowess on the trails remains to be proven. Carrie Garritson races on the roads, real men race on the trails." Fred shrugged his shoulders and, as if frustrated, kicked a large stone, but seeing a knot of crazed well wishers approaching he beamed, "This is what I love best, signing autographs." Fred was too preoccupied with his throng of fans for me to continue the interview.

I couldn't help thinking as I quaffed another brew, Fred has seriously underestimated the ferocity of the Huntington Man. True, Dave had a disappointing race at the San Juan Trail 50 and has been in seclusion since. But I remember vividly, only three weeks before the race, the Huntington Man startled us as he thundered down the San Juan Trail from Sugar Loaf to the Fire Station in record breaking time. I can picture him yet, stumbling over his feet, careening off boulders and sailing through brush in his mad descent. His skid marks scarred the trail and scattered pools of blood marked the memory of his passing. The Shuffler and I followed in horrified disbelief.

And yet, this same Huntington Man, who has proven himself equally capable of falling up or down, on even the steepest trails, has many Buddha like qualities. On February 7th he sat for twelve hours on the pinnacle of Irvine's famous Turtle Rock while meditating on the electrical states of boiling water. "There is simply no way to predict the effect of such a person on any event," I muttered aloud.

This reporter was able to locate the Huntington Man at his state of the art training facility in downtown Inglewood. I found him clothed in his finest robes, a tattered, gray sweat suit. He was seated majestically in the lotus pose and was humming an unintelligible mantra. As I approached, he squinted one eye and smiled graciously. I was relieved that he was apparently glad to see me.

"Well," I blurted, "What do you think of the Laguna Man now?"

"Fred's victory was impressive, but can he eat," mused the Huntington Man. "Man does not live by running alone. Before I comment on a man's performance, I want to see him eat. Watching a man eat tells me all I need to know about his character, fitness and reliability. From what I've heard about this Laguna Man, he can't eat worth beans. Skinny people are non entities and not worth consideration. As that famous ultra runner, Humpty Dumpty, so often said, "My shape is that of an egg and a very good shape it is too. If you aren't in good shape you're in no shape.." Well I rest my case, is this Laguna Man a raw egg or a hard egg?"

I left the Huntington Man staring into a cauldron of boiling water. Perhaps he was about to coddle an egg.

The Pacific Crest Trail 50 had many aspects of a crowd pleaser, sparkling green mountains, accented by blue skies, cool breezes and staggering vistas, but with the Huntington Man absent, the picture was regretfully incomplete.

Riding the wave of his hollow victory, the Laguna Man is sinfully arrogant. Those of us who love this great sport find it difficult to sit by and listen to his tirade of taunts aimed at the venerable Buddha, known to his friends as the Huntington Man. There can be no peace in the valley until these mighty titans settle their differences, as all great men do, on the Western States Trail. What will it take to shock the Huntington Man into action?