My running shoe and pants at this point show some of the Hoosier mud, but the shoe was often fully encased in mud.
Why I call her Mudless: Kim with my shoe on the left next to her fairly clean shoes. She would go well off the trail to avoid deep mud, but thorns could also be a problem.
Mudless fixed grilled cheese sandwiches and soup at our camp site the night before the run.
Mudless relaxes with a beer and the Wall Street Journal after the run.
Fellow Buffaloes Nancy (left), Wrong Way (Marla), and the Cuz (Don)If you like prancing around on a cold fall day on a forest trail that has steep ascents snd descents, thick mud and occasional manure churned up by horses, and shoe-drenching creeks, then this was your place -- Owen-Putnam State Forest in southern Indiana. Mudless and I drove down there this past weekend and camped (in the 20s at night) with Devil Dawg. Mudless and I did the 13-mile "fun run," which was tough enough, while other buffaloes did the 50K and 50-mile runs. A large group of self-described local rednecks camped near us and gave us oak firewood and invited us to sit around their campfire, a bonfire actually. I think they consumed most of the beer supply of southern Indiana. The rednecks then played golf the next morning, drunken golf I'll bet, because it was quite a sight to see the cavalcade of tipsy cowboys and their golf clubs and bags enter camp after we had soberly tromped the trail. In the last two miles of my 13-mile run/walk I hooked up with a National Guard recruiter dressed in his camouflage and combat boots. I guess he thought this would be good training. Thirteen miles in combat boots took its toll on him but he was a good running companion.
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