Article From RollerSkating Magazine April 1980 Section 2. Marathon: From Seattle to San Diego with skates and sails by Jamie Budge Soon, however, the abundance of publicity created the impression that you could only WindSkate on dry lake beds after years of practice. And this was too remote and difficult for the average skater. The articles invariably mentioned that WindSkaters could go 45 miles per hour, and that I had once taken off like a hang glider in a short flight. The media likes thrills and spills. But the original idea was that WindSkating was a sailing sport that you could do any day, anywhere with average winds -- a down-to-earth sailing sport that could be enjoyed by the every-day athlete. We needed a good way to demonstrate that you didn't need a dry lake bed to WindSkate. Someone suggested that we should sail across the United States. I felt that the sea coast from Seattle to San Diego would be a lot more attractive. With the gas shortages, it seemed as likely an alternative way to travel as any. Colin soars across El Mirage dry lake bed. But it wasn't until Ocean Pacific agreed to sponsor the tour that we were really convinced that we were going to do it. The sponsorship was followed by the best skating equipment that we could ask for: boots from Road Skates, trucks and plates from Tracker, 70mm red wheels from Kryptonics, bearings by NMB-Z-Flex, safety equipment from Rector and an assortment of clothes from O.P. And it wasn't until the last minute that we knew exactly who was going to make the tour. There were several commitments and cancellations, but when we finally loaded up the van it was Jamie Budge (yours truly), Terry Caccia, Colin Courtman and Terry Marcellino, the only girl on the trip. We left Los Angeles and headed up the coast toward Seattle driving in the van to chart the course we would be skating on the way back. It was an awesome feeling to be covering all those miles at 55 per, and then realize that we were going to be skating back! The drive to Seattle took about two days driving day and night, mostly up Highway One to check out the skating conditions. We arrived in Seattle on a Saturday morning. The center of skating in Seattle is Greenlake Park, a narrow bike path that winds 2 1/2 miles around the lake. The pedestrians walk on one half of the path and the skaters and bicyclers roll on the other. We found a skate rental shop called the Roller Company that had borrowed the basic motif and trademarking of Road Skates, so we all felt quite at home. We introduced ourselves and explained our purpose, much to the delight of the locals, who scurried about rounding up a group for the send off. Saturday afternoon we all got together at Greenlake Park for a WindSkate demonstration and social skate around the lake. The winds were good and we set up the sails, amazing to locals (who were used to skating under leg power alone). We picked out a section of the path, whisked back and forth amongst hikers and joggers and gave a few lessons. The group from Roller Company offered to wine, dine and party all night, but we realized that we would need all the rest we could get before the morning departure. At 10:30 a.m. on Sunday, September 30, we all sat by the van in Greenlake Park and strapped on our skates. We did a few calisthenics and took a couple of token runs around the lake, just to get warmed up. Our friends from the Roller Company skated with us, then gave us the best directions out of town. We skated one more section of bike path and then headed out into the real world of cross country skating. The Seattle to San Diego WindSkate Marathon had officially begun. Originally we had estimated the distance of the marathon to be about 1,200 miles (as the road maps read). However, on the coast route (with back road detours around un-skateable freeways), the actual distance was about 1,440 miles. We had a schedule and a budget that allowed for 17 days to get to San Diego. Some quick mathematics revealed that meant 84.7miles per day. We figured we would average about 7 miles per hour, which meant 12 hours per day of hard skating over some of the roughest roads, the steepest hills and the windiest cliffs in the country. But it was too early in themarathon to realize what this meant ... or what it was going to mean to keep on schedule. Stretching out in cruising style. We worked our way through Seattle along the sidewalks, over the bridges, under the Space Needle and down to Puget Sound. Terry, Terry and Colin skated while I drove the van. There was a bike path that followed Puget Sound, so we set up the sails and WindSkated along the water. The skies were blue, colors were bright and spirits were high. Further down the Sound we ran into factory buildings, waterfront stores and a lot of obstructions to the wind. We folded up the sails and got back into street skating stride. We knew that we would do a lot of plain old roller skating in between the opportunities to WindSkate. After about an hour and a half, Colin jumped in the van to conserve his energy for a later time. The two Terry's worked their way out of Seattle and encountered the first major uphill. It took them about a half hour to climb to the top, and it soon became apparent what an energy drain and slow pace it was going up. At the top, Terry Marcellino jumped in the van after two hours and a steep skate. She was temporarily pooped, and I jumped out to skate with Terry Caccia. In preparation for the marathon, I had skated 7 miles every afternoon in Santa Monica (about 45 minutes). The training was minimal, but I felt energetic and confident as I reached my 7 mph stride. Actually, to average 7 miles per hour, you had to keep up a constant pace of 10 to 12 miles per hour on the flat lands. When you hit a hill, you would slow down to about 3 to 5 miles per hour, (depending on the hill). Terry and I had a long downhill with easy speeds of about 20 mph. At the bottom Terry ended his shift and Colin jumped out to join me in the long uphill that followed. By the time I had reached the top of my first major uphill, I was painfully aware of the endurance aspect of skate touring. A lot of this was going to be just plain work! By nightfall, we were nowhere close to our goal of 85 miles per day. The new theory was to divide and conquer. I skated alone while the rest of the crew conserved energy in the van. I held the flashlight in my hand to spot rock and other unskateable objects in my path. One unskateable object ran in front of me while I was in full stride down the shoulder. At first I thought it was a squirrel, next a raccoon, then a cat. By the time I realized that it was a skunk, I had changed direction mid-air over the critter and was back in the van before you could say,"lt stinks!" We had vowed to skate every foot of the way, but skunk gas necessitated an exception to the rule. A hundred yards down the highway I climbed back out of the van to resume my journey. There were just a few traces of the odor far off in the distance. It had been a close call! We stopped for dinner in Yelm, Washington. By the end of our meal, the whole restaurant seemed to know what we were up to and wished us luck on our endeavor. We were now skating some real back country roads with no traffic on a Sunday night, Colin skated while we followed him closely in the van. The headlights lit the road; and as long as we didn't get too far behind, it was perfect skating. Marcel followed Colin and they were making 8 to 10 miles per hour till about midnight. About that time we fell under the delusion that if we skated 24 hours per day, we would be home in half the time. Caccia put in another hour or so, then I skated till the early hours of the morning. Unfortunately, by 3 a.m. we had made two wrong turns and were so lost that we didn't know which way we were going! Part of the problem was that they don't put road signs on the back roads in Washington, so you don't know if you're on the right road till you get to the next town. The other part of the problem was that we were too tired to figure out what was going on. So we waited for the morning. At breakfast the next morning, we still weren't able to figure out where we had been, but we did find out how to get back to where we were going. Colin was first off on a back road that was made from a mixture of coarse gravel and sticky tar. The progress was slow and painful in the feet and knees. Terry and Terry traded shifts all the way over the Oregon border. By mid-afternoon I was re-energized and put in an aggressive 16 miles in an hour and a half toward Portland. I was so spectacular that a couple of drunks reached out their car window to shake my hand and ran me off the road in tribute. Actually, I jumped off the road because I was sure they were going to swerve into the trench! But they escaped somehow. We continued our relay and reached Portland by 1 a.m. Tuesday was the start of our third day; the thrill was starting to wear off. We had a long trudge across open-fielded inland roads to get to the ocean coast route in Oregon. When there is not much in the way of inspirational scenery, the miles seem to drag on. However, by mid-day a strong wind had come up and I set up a sail for the first attempt at actual cross-country highway WindSkating. Using the wide shoulder by the side of the road gave me ample area to work in, and that first feeling of effortless skating was sensational. After two days of working for every foot of progress, it felt great just to lean back against the wind in the sail and glide! The local reporters jumped out of slowed cars and did instant on-the-spot photos and interviews. I continued across the highways, sometimes with the sail, sometimes just skating, depending on the wind direction. We reached a small range of mountains and Terry and Terry traded short shifts to make maximum time to the top. At this point, Terry Caccia got his first chance to experience that other great effortless sensation ride of the marathon: downhill. It was over ten miles from the top of the range to the ocean. Terry jumped into a side stance, cocked his back foot in confidence and gave a big grin. It was like a downhill ski run all the way to the bottom, a roll that took about an hour. Whatever fatigue you might be feeling before the start of such a run would completely disappear with the rush of adrenaline that accompanied the thrill of a fast free ride. Jamie has wind powered assist in eating up the miles. Terry floated into Lincoln City, Oregon, on a cushion of enthusiasm, just in time to watch the sun setting in the Pacific. This was the inspiration we were looking for. The sky was orange and there was just enough wind to put on an impromptu WindSkate demonstration in a beach parking lot. Once again, reporters appeared out of nowhere with cameras and tape recorders. By morning, the whole immediate coastal populace knew of our travels. The Oregon coastline offers an abundance of inspiration for skating, WindSkating and shooting pictures. Huge waves batter the rugged shoreline, shooting like rockets in the air as they break against the giant rocks and up through open blow holes. Highway 1 winds along the ocean, climbing hundreds of feet above sheer cliffs, then dropping to sea level again. The scenery ranges from small coastal towns to almost primeval forests with ageless trees, mist and tidal swamps. To be covering this route on skates certainly enhances the encounter far above what one might experience observing through glass, surrounded by metal at an insulated 55 miles per hour. A skater feels ocean spray, the road rumbling underfoot, as the human metabolism peaks with exertion. The surroundings could be awe-inspiring one mile and menacing the next. It's a totally exhilarating experience. This week on the Coast Highway established our standard routine. Terry and Terry seemed to be real good on the intermittent up hills and down hills. The free ride going down seemed to be well worth the work going up, and they made the best time along these climbing and dropping sections of highway. Colin and I would hit the fastest pace along the more level stretches of road, sometimes breaking 10 miles per hour for two hours running. The technique was something like jogging and cross-country skiing applied to skates. We made great time as long as our energy held; but when we burned out, that was the end of our run. Colin and I were the speed sprinters, Terry and Terry were the constant mileage masters. End of Section 2
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