Run50 State #26 | Kansas: Hell on Gravel Marathon

This time we set off, we still drove our Tesla autonomously, heading west, our destination was Kansas.

When it comes to Kansas, the first thing most Americans think of is: the Kansas City Chiefs.

And that guy who had a hot hand in the Super Bowl, Patrick Mahomes.

I'm not too crazy about rugby, so I went for a run, this time on the gravel road in front of their house.

The name of the race is domineering enough: Hell on Gravel, literally translated as Hell on Gravel Marathon.

Just hearing the name makes people's knees tremble, but this game has a unique flavor:

Rough, primitive, without the hustle and bustle of the city; just wind, cattle, wheat fields and the endless sky.

Kansas is called the "Heart of America".

It is located almost in the center of the United States. From the map, it looks like a neatly measured square brick.

Smooth and low-key, it represents the most authentic side of central America.

The landscape of Kansas is dominated by the Great Plains. The land is vast and gentle, and wind is the protagonist throughout the year.

Driving across the state, outside the window there are always golden waves of wheat, low farmhouses, and grass bent by the wind.

The summers are hot, the winters are cold, and tornadoes visit from time to time. Kansas also has a warm cultural background.

Dorothy in the movie "The Wizard of Oz" is from Kansas. She was blown to the magical world by a tornado.

It also made “Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore.” a classic line familiar to Americans.

Speaking of cities:

Topeka, the state capital, is located in the middle of the country and has well-preserved government institutions and historical buildings.

Wichita is the largest city. It started in the aircraft manufacturing industry in its early years and is known as the "Aviation Capital".

Lawrence is a college town, home to the University of Kansas, with a young and diverse atmosphere.

Although Kansas City partially crosses Missouri, it has the greatest influence and is the economic and cultural center of the state.

If the east of the United States is the starting point of history and the west is the end of dreams, then Kansas is the most real transition zone between the two.

It doesn't have the glamor of a big city, but it has its own vastness and tranquility.

For us, this trip to the 26th state is about experiencing the power of "hell sand and gravel" in person on this windswept plain.

This time we still followed the same pattern as last time, camping and running.

The experience last time was pretty good, so I’ll continue this time.

Charging while driving along the way, and stopping by a convenience store to buy food, I am already familiar with it.

In the evening we arrived at our first camp in Illinois. The camp is next to a small lake and there is a basketball court next to it.

The environment is quite quiet, and the wind smells like grass. I slept well that night and woke up early.

Under the watchful eyes of drones and Insta360 X5, I had a long-lost personal basketball show.

Although I haven’t touched the ball in several years, the feel is still there. Several shots were taken steadily into the frame.

When I left, I discovered that the symbol of the camp was a St. Louis-style Archway.

Keep driving. We are finally entering Kansas land.

Outside the window is an endless cornfield, with a few lazy cows resting in the shade of the trees.

Occasionally, you can see oil wells spinning slowly in the distance.

Siqi looked out the window and said: "This picture looks very much like the Windows desktop."

My friend Brad recommended a Kansas trail to us, but we didn’t have time to go there this time.

After all, the highlight this time is the real "hell sand".

After a total of more than ten hours, we finally arrived at our destination: El Dorado.

The name sounds like Spanish and means "golden place". It sounds very romantic and a bit Mexican.

This town is in south-central Kansas. The city is not big, but it is clean and quiet.

We first went to an office to pick up equipment. Although the competition was small, it was very attentive.

After getting the bib number and competition clothes, I took a look at tomorrow's medals. They look handsome and have a metallic texture.

Afterwards we went to Anita’s Mexican Restaurant, a Mexican restaurant in town.

This is a small brick house with a red roof, and there are several old cars parked at the door. The lights in the store are dim, and Spanish paintings hang on the walls.

The air is filled with the aroma of barbecue and chili. I ordered a "chariot set meal",

The food was served in a container carved into the shape of a stone wheel and sizzled as it was served.

It has a sense of ritual and is very authentic. The taste is better than expected. Sure enough, the Mexican food in the small town is the real local taste.

After eating and drinking, we first went to the track to explore the road. The gravel road was indeed difficult to drive, and then we headed to Archway RV Park, a campsite east of El Dorado.

There is a small river behind the camp, with wooden bridges and grassland next to it, and the environment is fresh and natural. We ate some snacks on the wooden table, and the wind blew from the river with the smell of grass. The only drawback is that the hot water system in the bathroom is a bit weak.

But considering that most people drive RVs, it’s a relief. You can charge your car at the campsite, which is very convenient.

Tesla quietly replenished its energy during the night, and we slept peacefully in the tent.

Early the next morning, before it was fully light, we set out for the starting point.

This was the first time I used Insta360 X5 as my main equipment to shoot an entire marathon. I was both excited and a little nervous. I didn’t know if I could record this “journey to hell” well.

The race starts on the East Park Trail on the east side of El Dorado State Park, one of the prettiest places in town, surrounded by lakes and woods.

There is a bit of humidity in the air, and the morning wind is a bit cool. "Hell on Gravel" is a very special game.

The route is an almost straight gravel road that leads from El Dorado into rural Butler County.

Turning back halfway, there were no spectators, only a few old wooden bridges and endless plains.

The “Hell” in the name is not an exaggeration. This type of gravel road marathon is quite representative in the Midwestern United States.

It originated from early cross-country cycling events and later developed a running version. Running on this, the soles of your feet are unstable and the sun is dazzling, which is a mental and physical test.

At six o'clock in the morning, the race director called us to gather. There are less than ten marathon runners in total, so it’s really a scale where “you can take a photo in one row”.

I was wearing a blue Arsenal jersey and looked pretty fresh. As soon as the starting signal sounded, everyone rushed out and headed straight for the woods.

The road in this section of the woods is a compacted dirt road, with branches on both sides intertwined, and the sun shining through the gaps, giving it a bit of an off-road feel.

After running out of the woods, there was a wooden bridge. There was a photographer squatting on the bridge. The photos he took were more professional than those in many competitions.

Run across the bridge and the hell begins. It was replaced by real gravel road underfoot. The sun rises from the east and its rays hit the plains,

It's like every stone is plated with gold. There are boundless farmlands on both sides, the air is fresh and the wind blows the wheat waves.

I was in a good mood and my pace was steady at just over 5 minutes. After about five kilometers, we arrived at the first supply point, with a few folding tables, buckets of water, and volunteers with bright smiles.

I was in pretty good shape, so I waved my hand and moved on. The photographer appeared in front again, and I quickly struck a pose.

Soon after, I passed a runner wearing a cross-country pack who was clearly experienced and had a steady pace and even rhythm.

When I overtook him, I nodded humbly, and it didn't take long for me to distance myself.

Around mile ten the weather started to heat up. I drank some water and squeezed an energy gel at the second supply point.

Unexpectedly, as soon as I looked up, the cross-country guy I passed appeared again.

He ran ahead of me easily, with his own water bag hanging in his backpack, without stopping at all.

The sun is getting hotter and hotter. The sound of gravel grinding against the soles of shoes became a rhythm.

I looked down at the straight gravel road, which stretched to the horizon in the sun, like a road to hell and a road to honor.

I kept my pace and was not impatient. After a while, I passed the cross-country runner again, but after this separation, he could never catch up again. There is ice Coke at the supply point in front, which is a godsend on a hot day. Take one sip, it feels so good!

Occasionally, something big would rumble by on the roadside. It was not a truck, but an agricultural behemoth: a high-wheel farm machine that sprayed pesticides. The tires were taller than me. The dust it raised when it drove by was like a movie special effect. I gave the driver a "rock" sign, and he gave me a thumbs up, like two warriors meeting on the highway to hell.

Before I knew it, I reached the turnaround point. There was a yellow sign on the ground saying "MARATHON TURN AROUND", which meant that I had already run halfway. The volunteer next to the sign was an old woman with a friendly smile, but she almost thought I was a 50-kilometer runner and was ready to let me continue running.

The road back was a little more lively, and you could see runners in the opposite direction. Some people have put on a mask of pain with an expressionless face, probably because they have been running in the direct sun for too long and have been severely sunburned. I raised my hands to say hello one by one and did a few high fives to boost each other's morale.

The photographer showed up again, the same guy wearing a cowboy hat, chasing us all the way in an SUV to take pictures. I could hear the camera shutter clicking, it was so professional. Later, I looked at the photos he took. The lighting, angles, and postures were all perfect. Those pictures were exactly the scenery I didn’t have time to take a good look at when I was running:

There are puppies lying on the roadside in the shade of trees enjoying the shade, turtles crawling slowly into the ditch, a grasshopper stuck to the car window refusing to leave, and volunteers wearing orange vests shining in the sun.

The green shrubs, the gray gravel roads, and the dazzling blue sky all have a desolate beauty unique to the Midwest. That feeling of both confrontation and coexistence between man and nature.

On the way back, I knew that I was the leader of the race. Although there was no audience and no live broadcast, I secretly said in my heart: "The champion is right in front."

But the weather is getting hotter, the gravel underfoot is getting looser, and supplies are starting to become important. Every time I saw water on the table, I would take a few sips; when I ran out of supplies, I would stare at the volunteers who occasionally appeared and ask them for a drink. Everyone was very friendly, smiling, handing me water, and saying "Keep going" to me.

As I ran, I noticed a figure appearing behind me, getting closer and closer. My heart started to get nervous, and the shadows under the sun were getting longer and longer. It looked like someone was catching up. I tried to speed up, but my legs were not obedient, and in the end the man passed me.

I sighed in my mind: Well, let him give the championship to him.

But when I took a closer look, hey, I’ve never seen this guy before. He turned out to be the master of the 50km group! It suddenly dawned on me that I was happy again and regained my morale: Let’s continue to take the lead. We must keep the championship in the marathon category!

But the next few miles are really hard. The sun is like an oven, and the ground is shining. The novelty of the first half of the race has long since worn off, leaving only dryness, heat, and endless pebble sliding.

Finally, a volunteer grandma appeared in front. She pointed to the right and said, "Almost there, just a few turns!"

I nodded and obeyed, but unfortunately I was too confident and took the wrong turn. As a result, he accidentally ran into someone else's farmland. The grass is getting taller and taller, and the road is getting narrower and narrower. I feel bad.

We can only bite the bullet and keep moving forward, thinking that sooner or later we will be able to return to the main road. After running for a long time, the GPS almost failed and there was no one around. I had an idea:

"My Tesla is at the starting point, so I'll run in the direction of the car."

Relying on my sense of direction, I finally climbed back onto the road and wandered around the town for a while. The sand and gravel on the soles of my feet were full of fire, and even my breath was hot.

Then I saw the finish arch. The volunteers were stunned and looked at me running back from the completely opposite direction.

I gasped and complained: "I ran the wrong way! I just went around the farmland, otherwise my score would have been better!"

But the most surprising thing was that they casually said: “You’re the first full marathon finisher!”

I was stunned for three seconds, champion? Zundu and fake toot? It seems that the level of players this year is indeed unpretentious.

I flashed my watch and showed my GPS data:

"Look, I ran two more miles than the whole marathon. I won the championship with no loss at all!"

The sun happened to shine on the grass at the finish line, and the wind blew the flag that read "Hell on Gravel".

At that moment, I suddenly felt: Hell is not that scary, it’s just a little hot.

After the game, I stretched under the wooden pavilion in the park.

There were ice-cold sodas and oranges on the table, and the sun filtered in through the cracks in the roof, making everything bright.

Got that huge medal,

Flames, gears, and gravel are all engraved on a metal plate, giving it the aura of "running through hell."

The champion also has a special medal made of wood. The olive wood has a beautiful texture and feels very textured.

Siqi and I took a few photos in the booth, stretched a few times, and then drove the Tesla all the way to Kansas City.

The first stop is, as usual, the Planet Fitness shower station. As soon as the water washed away, the whole person seemed to be refreshed.

The skin finally switches from "gravel air-drying mode" back to "human mode".

Then we found a Korean restaurant in downtown Kansas and ordered spicy tofu soup and fried vermicelli.

It's spicy and fragrant, and instantly replenishes all the lost energy. After eating, we went to the colorful wall on the corner to take pictures.

There were pink monsters and green lizards on the wall. I was wearing an orange T-shirt issued by the competition, with an exaggeratedly huge medal hanging on my chest.

Parked behind it was a white Rivian tram. Leaving Kansas, we hit I-70.

We stayed in a small hotel for the night and continued driving east early the next morning.

As we approach St. Louis, the Gateway Arch in the distance shines in the sun.

The clouds in the sky are very low, the kite is floating in the sky, and the red rope is dancing in the wind.

The Tesla's autonomous driving was moving steadily. I leaned on the seat and watched the fields outside the window change from golden to dark green.

When I got home in the afternoon, it was still dark.

This Kansas game is easy to say, but not easy to say.

The track is a straight line, with gravel, hot wind, and dust all the way to the end.

There was no audience, no shade, and no music. All you have is yourself and the road that will never be finished.

Ten people participated, and I took first place. But a champion is a champion, and running fast is running fast.

Later I also thought, why do I always stress "just ten people"?

It seems that he is looking for reasons for himself, fearing that others will think that this championship is not valuable.

This may be a very typical Chinese habit: I have been taught since childhood to be humble and low-key, and to say that I am "ok" and "good luck".

But in the United States, people are more accustomed to saying directly: "I did a good job."

Not to boast, but to respect the results. If you did it, you should admit it.

I also gradually understood that excessive modesty is actually another kind of self-denial.

We often say that the process is important and the results don’t matter, but the reality is often result-oriented.

If you are the fastest runner, you should admit that you are awesome. Even if there are only ten people, you will still be the first to cross the line among those ten.

Sometimes, people have to learn to accept their own goodness. No need to hide it, no need to belittle it. A champion is a champion, there is nothing to shy away from.

This is the 26th state on my Run50. There are still twenty-four games left, and this matter is not finished yet.

"Hell" has been gone, what else is there to fear?

Words, photos, and layout by Arsenan