The official website of the Last Annual Vol State (LAVS) claims, “Ordinary People Can Achieve Extraordinary Things,” but immerse yourself in the race and you will find that these journey runners are anything but ordinary. Race reports abound online, some are a short summary of the experience, while others are akin to a novella. This is neither of those. Instead, it’s a front row visual journey of both the action and behind-the-scenes moments. As the runners say, enjoy the journey because it’s about the people.
Day 0.
Runners gathered for the “Last Supper,” the mandatory pre-race meeting where veterans greeted each other as if they’re at a family reunion and LAVS “virgins” listened intently to their stories and advice. Those who entered the “screwed” (solo) category parked their cars at Sand Mountain, Georgia, and took a chartered bus to Union City, Tennessee. Those who entered as “crewed” usually have their own rides to the start. To make matters more confusing, one could change their designation from crewed to screwed after the start of the race if they chose to get a ride to the start but then refuse designated help from a crew. They could also change from screwed to crewed if they ended up accepting aid outside of the “angel stations” set up by locals along the course.
“The Last Supper” Photo: Jenny Thorsen
This was the last year for each of these categories. Citing the abundance of aid along the course as well as safety concerns due to the added traffic from crew cars, the race organizers will no longer allow runners to have crews during the event. While there was quite a discussion regarding this decision in the race’s Facebook group, the organizers also cited statistics showing that crewed runners dropped out at much higher rates than screwed runners.
Day 1: Start.
Runners boarded a ferry at Dorena Landing, Missouri, for a short ride across the river where the runners are unloaded in Kentucky and lined up on the street. Once Laz lighted his cigarette, runners then reboarded the ferry and rode back to Missouri where they began the rest of their journey on foot. “Once you step on the ferry, you’re family,” and this year, the family lost one of their own, Hunt Brumby. Runners carried his picture in their packs to bring him to “the Rock” – the finish line in Georgia.
Pre-race ferry ride Photo: Jenny Thorsen
Photo of previous LAVS runner Hunt Brumby. Photo Jenny Thorsen
Days 1-10.
Walking along open stretches of road in Tennessee, the heat is so intense that heat waves are visible radiating from the concrete. Friendly locals who have become aware of the race over the years offer support and comfort in the form of food, hydration and places to rest. These people are known as “road angels,” with their oases being the angel stations. Still, other residents wonder about “all those people walking,” warning their neighbors of “the procession of meth heads coming through town.” Further along the course, angel stations become few and far between, with screwed runners relying more heavily on the supplies they find from gas stations and restaurants. And unless they can find a hotel for a shower and a few hours of peaceful sleep, runners must find safe places to sleep along the course.
A runner enjoys an “oasis” set up by a “road angel.” Photo Jenny Thorsen
A runner battles the traffic and radiating heat. Photo Jenny Thorsen
The journey runs (\which include LAVS) are affectionately known as a “vacation without a car.” Runners complete 314 miles on foot through farmland, cities and town squares. Notable landmarks along the way include crossing the Tennessee River, the “Bench of Despair” at mile 184 and the Shelby Rhinehart Bridge that signifies the end is in sight. Road conditions vary from straight shots with generous shoulders to winding, crumbling mountain roads with mere inches between the white line and a drop off. Foot care is a constant worry, as feet can make or break a race of this length.
Areas for peaceful sleep are found in parks and other spots along the course. Photo Jenny Thorsen
Days 4-10.
Runners start arriving at Castle Rock, otherwise known as “the Rock” where they are treated to views of the Tennessee River after climbing Sand Mountain. It’s not unusual for it to take at least 3 hours to complete the last 11 miles of the race thanks to the climb on the final 6 miles. Those who complete their journey are treated to a rest on the “thrown,” a camping chair that’s so dirty from finishers sitting in it during their post-race interview with race directors, Carl Laniak and Gary Cantrell (Lazarus Lake), that it gets thrown in the trash after the race is over. Finishers also get their choice of a “woodallion” featuring important parts of the race, a “314” sticker signifying their accomplishment or a patch designed from a photo of a previous year.
A LAVS finisher celebrates at “the Rock.” Photo Jenny Thorsen
The “thrown” for runners at the finish of LAVS. Photo Jenny Thorsen
There is a reason these runners keep coming back. It’s about the people that become family and the bonds that are formed. It’s about pushing the limits of possibility. “Vol State only takes everything you’ve got in you, every time,” said one participant. Perhaps it’s time to change the race’s tagline to: “Ordinary People Can Become Extraordinary.”