Reprinted by permission of the Victoria Times Colonist "Islander"

Story by Heather Harbord

IN THE GATHERING DUSK, three women totter along a dusty unpaved road holding hands. They are the last of 597 walkers who started on the 1998 Great Walk from Gold River at 4 am. All three are determined to finish the 63.5 kilometres to Tahsis. Support vehicles with flashing lights drive in front and behind them.

After 16 hours and 42 minutes they limp between the "burning boots" at the finish, saluted by fire truck sirens and the applause of their fellow walkers and volunteers.

The Great Walk started in 1977 when the mayor of Tahsis issued a challenge to the mayor of Gold River to walk the rough road between them.

Twenty-one years later, on the first Saturday in June, it is an annual event attracting many visitors to these small communities on Vancouver Island's west coast. The walk is a timed endurance test rather than a race. Some people start training a year ahead of time, others don't train at all.

People like the three women who came in last this year command respect. They are the reason the volunteers from Tahsis, Gold River and other places come back year after year to stage what they call "the most gruelling pledge walk in North America."

As the participants have increased, the volunteers have adapted their techniques for handling the crowd and making sure that everyone is accounted for at the end.

On the day of the walk, road traffic is heavy at 2 a.m. as volunteers drive to the twelve checkpoints. I break camp and prepare to become a road monitor as arthritis prevents my participation. In the assembly area beside the meeting of the Gold and Upana rivers, the Canadian Rangers switch on massive batteries of lights powered by generators.

Sleepy tenters perform warm-up exercises as they wait in line for Pattie's Porta Potties. The thirty members of Tom Hartford's Gold River Lions committee drop off others who have slept all over Gold River and nearby Tsaxana. Individual support vehicles bring in more, then park to wait till the Rangers release them to follow their charges. Marvelling at the complexity of the organization, I park in front of the road block with the Rangers' blessing.

As 4 a.m. approaches, the crowd gravitates towards the Upana Bridge where Don Stewart, who has started the walk for the last 18 years has stretched a yellow rope. It is too dark to see who is who.

"Five minutes ... Three minutes ... One minute ... Go," he yells through a red bullhorn and jumps out of the way as 597 people surge past him. The runners are soon up the hill, followed by a thick mass of eager walkers. Daylight reveals fog-shrouded mountains clothed in forest. Within the first kilometre, I meet two people coming back who say it is not for them.

At Checkpoint One, five kilometres along the route, three volunteers mark off the walkers by number and dispense juice, hot drinks and muffins.

"It was much better this year because the support vehicles were delayed and we didn't have to breathe in their exhaust fumes on that first long hill," said Kathy Johnson, a four-year veteran of the walk.

Checkpoint Two and the road monitors' vehicles start to fill up with bags to be delivered to various points along the way. The crowd stretches out, escorted by the first support vehicles. By Checkpoint Three, the sun is beginning to come out, though fog still lies in distant valleys.

By 7:45 a.m., 22 people have gone through Checkpoint Six at the Conuma Campsite. I prepare to watch the rest go through.

"Most walkers want to make Checkpoint Six, the "half-way point" which is actually 32.4 km from the start," says Penny Leach as she writes down numbers and arrival times. "Everyone who checks in here qualifies for a 'sunup to sundown' T-shirt." Another volunteer clips the logs of members of the Canadian Volkssport Federation, an international walking group, which has made the walk part of their achievement awards program.

Most people stop for the soup and sandwiches donated by the Campbell River Restaurant. Dr. Jas Sandhu of Tahsis and his first aid people treat blisters, muscular strains and "steaming Feet."

By 12:30 p.m., only a few stragglers haven't reached Checkpoint Six so I leave. It's hot on the road so I drive at less than 10 km/h to keep the dust down. Now that the walkers are sure it's not going to rain the way it did last year, several stop me to take their packs to the finish.

Participants spend longer resting at each checkpoint and some reluctantly give up.

"We feel great that we made it past the halfway mark," a couple of women at Checkpoint Seven say.

"I feel so bad because I didn't finish," says Wendy, who is almost in tears when I pick her up at the next checkpoint and drive her to Tahsis. She and her co-workers had been training since January and the others are continuing.

The last big hill down to the Leiner River is the toughest. Soon the President's Tree appears, signalling the end is only a few kilometres further.

Checkpoint Twelve is where everyone spruces up in anticipation of the finish.

"It was that last bit that was so hard," says Dorothy Carson afterwards in the gym where recumbent bodies are sprawled everywhere on blue mats. "You can see the water and yet you're not quite there."

As I drive back out for the last time, I encounter the three women who come in last. They are being well looked after, so I return for a hasty shower and swim before watching them cross the finish line. Twenty minutes after they arrive they receive an award For their persistence.

This year the fastest person did it in 5 hours 29 minutes, the youngest to complete was 9 years old and the oldest 77. Jennifer Herron of Tahsis, who has won the Youth trophy for three previous years, won again. Although pledges are not compulsory, the walkers have raised more than $54,000 for their favorite charities.

At the closing ceremonies, this year's organizer Jo Anne Grsic announces that by midnight all results can be seen on the Web site at http://www.greatwalk.com It's been such a long day, that I keep thinking the start was yesterday.

Afterwards, two buses drive people back to Gold River. Others sleep overnight on mats at the Rec Centre, returning on a morning bus. Finally after 43 hours without sleep, Betty Ganyo, Tahsis Lions Club president and organizer ot the Great Walk for its first 20 years, sinks thankfully into bed.

Heather Harbord lives in Powell River and is a frequent contributor to the Islander.

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