Touring America...
Via Greyhound and Running

by Chris Chromczak & Josh Merlis

Have you ever dreamed of exploration and travel? Have you ever wished to spot a bear or just get up and see America? On Monday, June 26, 2006, at 2:05 am, nearly a year after concocting the idea, we departed from the Albany Greyhound Bus Station as inexperienced and innocent travelers. Over the course of 30 days, we’d see the underside of America, carry packs heavier than ourselves, chase bears, climb mountains, slide down glaciers, run 20 starving miles though the Smoky Mountains, only to realize that we had the wrong fuel for our stove. We would spend nine hours during the hottest part of the day running through the Grand Canyon, listen to passengers on the bus curse at each other in racist tirades, often bathe in any water source we could find and bump into George Carlin in Beverly Hills.

We camped at formal campgrounds, on the side of the road and once even on the Pacific Ocean. The “Zip Code Man” would botch the Burnt Hills zip code, more than three dozen bums would approach us for money, and a comedy show in Grand Teton would result in Josh getting hit in the head with a toilet seat. On our second full day, we mailed home over 20 pounds and threw out another ten. For days at a time we were completed removed from the world, with little more than our packs and a map for company. We ate dinner on the Santa Monica Pier, watched some of the worst and best street acts imaginable, ran a half-marathon under the Golden Gate Bridge, and were asked to donate money to the homeless when, at the time, we were homeless ourselves.

We saw “Juicing” Bonds hit homer 722, ran a marathon that touched the sky at 13,000 feet higher than Albany and slept little. We saw hoodoos, narrow canyons and towns with populations of less than 50. We visited more places that we’ve heard stories about than we can think of. We whitewater rafted the middle fork of the American River, nearly died in the Tetons and drove through beautiful places we’d only seen previously on posters. We heard every accent an American can have and spoke to many people who definitely didn’t sound like they were speaking English. Every opportunity for exploration was met with zeal, curiosity and boundless anticipation.

Over 30 days, we experienced not just one aspect of our country, but all of it. In the major cities we were often surrounded by rancorous drug dealers and prostitutes, while at others times it was around business professionals and movie stars. In many national parks, we felt like we were in Europe.

We first went to the Great Smoky Mountains followed by Colorado. After Leadville, we toured Zion, Bryce and the Grand Canyon national parks, before heading to Los Angeles and then San Francisco. In Yosemite, we experienced the beauty John Muir first saw 150 years ago. Reno brought us fun in the form of the swimmable rapids of the Truckee River, penny-gambling and a circus production. On July 15, Josh ran the Lake Tahoe 50-miler while Chris completed his first 100-miler. A bus brought us within 120 miles of the Tetons, where we rented our fourth car of the trip, spending time in Jackson, Wyo., and Grand Teton and Yellowstone national parks. We closed out the trip with three days in Boulder, Colo.

What follows is an abbreviated narrative highlighting several aspects of the trip.

“Can I take my bag with me?”

Twenty hours into our bus ride from Knoxville to Denver, we arrived in Salina, Kan., several hours late with two police vehicles waiting. Three hours earlier, upon pulling out of Kansas City, a very strong smell emanated from the bathroom. In Topeka, Kan., while standing outside of the bus for yet another cigarette break so that our fellow passengers could get their hourly fill, Josh overheard two young men talking about marijuana. As the police demanded we all exit the bus, one of the young men Josh saw asked if he could take his things with him. It was amusing to witness such an incriminating request, one that the officer did not grant. The thug got off the bus while a German Shepard examined the Greyhound.

Josh penned the following during one of our rides:

The most shining glory of riding Greyhound, however, is how you realize it truly is another world. Time doesn’t exist for them; if you happen to be waiting for a bus at one of the non-starting cities, you may be sitting for three-plus hours without any indication of when it will actually arrive. And just as easily, it may come on by, stop for a quick puff of nicotine, only to re-board without you because it’s full.

If there is one thing Greyhound enjoys, it is chaos. Apparently, they are unfamiliar with the phrase “form a line” and prefer nomadic traits of our species like stampedes. As Chris and I waited to board the bus in St. Louis, we found ourselves in a growing mass of people. All manners go out the door at the bus station – what value do manners have anyway in such a dog-eat-dog world? And as the 7 am departure time came and went, we found ourselves tucked only deeper inside a sea of drunk drivers, teenage mothers too young to drive, and the occasional glimmer of an academian struggling for his/her position.

On July 1, we found ourselves standing at an elevation of 10,200 feet. Peaking at 13,185 feet, the Leadville Trail Marathon was an out and back adventure with most of it well above the tree line. Several sections of the course were covered in snow. Being so early into our trip, the trail race offered us our best views of the experience to that point. We got a ride back to the bus station with Andy Rodriguez from Denver, a person who had responded to a post Josh made on a message board inquiring about a ride to the race. He left us with the motto, “Walk it like you mean it,” which we now live by when out on the steep trails.

“Let’s go to the South Rim and back.”

On our way to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, two days after the Leadville Marathon, Chris was proposing that we run the 42-mile route that is known as the “Rim to Rim to Rim” some three days after Leadville.

Chris and Josh met in the fall of 2002 at University at Albany, where the Albany Running Exchange started, and ran our first marathons together in Philadelphia that year. Going into our rushed training for the November event, neither of us had ever run over a half-marathon, and we couldn’t even walk for nearly a week after finishing the essentially flat romp around Philly. Like many, we were indoctrinated by Runner’s World and other mainstream running outlets that one shouldn’t run more than two marathons a year and it takes three weeks to recover, etc. After we compromised to just run to the Colorado River and back – it came out to about 30 miles including getting lost a few times – our first run after the marathon was longer than a marathon.

“What is he thinking?!”

At 5 am, on July 15, six days after the half-marathon in San Francisco, Chris took his first step off the starting line of the Lake Tahoe Rim Trail 100-Mile Race. In the process, he would double the longest run of his life.

Josh ran the race with David Newman and Christophe Lanaud, both ARE members who met them out there. When we finished in 10:16, we heard that Chris was in second, having come through 50 miles in 9:20, some two hours faster than his goal split. Prior to the start, all he wanted to do was finish! He would later write:

I froze for a second and two thoughts came into my mind. One, I was running way too fast, and two; I might actually win this race. My plan was to arrive at the Mount Rose aid station between five and six hours. I was there in 4:40. Debbie Van Wieren, who joined us for the last half of the trip, gave me some electrolytes and told me to slow down; however, the comments of others provoked me to keep pushing. Around mile 40, I caught the second place guy, Rod. We built a quick friendship and I continued on, reaching a peak where I could see the eventual winner, only about a quarter-mile ahead of me. Determination and emotion overcame me and I pushed even harder towards Spooner Lake, hoping that first place would break down and lose his composure. I reached mile 50 in 9:20.

Thirteen miles later, a valley loop that I hammered the first time around was now hacking at my legs and mind. The climb out seemed endless and my focus dwindled. Only 9.5 miles to Mount Rose where Debbie would eventually be my lifesaving pacer and help me finish the race. At this time I was still on pace to be well under 24 hours. Thoughts about winning still echoed in my head, but it was becoming clearer that I made a mistake. I was the rookie, the young guy with fresh legs and no experience. Running smart could have led to a better performance. My time in second place didn’t last, however I finished in 26:01 for ninth place – the first finisher among the first-timers. I chased my dream and had fun and that’s what life’s about!

Just days later he would be running again, and two weeks later, he set a four-minute PR in the Escarpment Trail Race held in the Catskills.

“Are you guys crazy?”

Throughout our experience, those we met were quick to question our sanity. When we were running through the Grand Canyon, few that we passed uttered much more than “You guys are nuts.” In looking back on the experience, however, we wouldn’t have done it any other way. Over the course of four weeks, we spent over 170 hours riding Greyhound, eight nights trying to sleep on the bus, traveled through 18 states, visited seven national parks, and ate more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches than a first grader.

It is typical for a runner to be asked, “Are you training for a specific race?” Josh has often responded to the inquiry with an oblique, “I’m training so that I am ready for whatever may come along.” Early on, peering out the window of our westward Greyhound bus, we had finally come to realize what we had been training for all along: THIS.

For more information regarding the trip, including detailed daily journal entries and pictures, please visit www.albanyrunningexchange.org.

Chris Chromczak loves to eat cheeseburgers, loaded with toppings, before each race he runs. He’s 21, loves his family and going on adventures. Currently he is jobless but not homeless. When not at Burnt Hills High School teaching, Josh Merlis runs, directs events for the Albany Running Exchange, dances, plays piano, drinks water and eats bagels.

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