All language subtitles for The.Mountain.Runners.2012.

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[Music]

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Perhaps the story of
the mountain runners

can never be
conveyed completely,

for like the vast mountain
itself, the details are

numerous, varied and
isolated from observation.

The narrative of this marvelous
race, of the runners,

the railroad and the
automobiles and

the hardships of the judges
freezing at the summit.

The individual experiences
of the contestants

on the trails strewn
with confetti,

striving to overcome the
handicap of the great distance

and each runner
threading their way

through the dark woods,
up past the fir and cedar

to meet the icy skirts of the
mountain looming in the night,

whose summit was just beginning
to herald the early dawn.

The climb? Over a mile in
altitude above the snow line.

By the edge of deep crevasses
and over steep icing slopes

where a collapse
or single misstep

was fraught with certain death.

How could this story
ever be told?

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SFX; Old projector

It is the summer of 1911.

Howard Taft is President
of the United States.

An airplane lands on a ship,

the USS Pennsylvania,
for the first time,

the Mona Lisa is stolen
from the Louvre&

and America's first
mountain adventure race

is about to begin.

The race will take
place in the far

northwest reaches of
the United States,

in the city of
Bellingham Washington,

situated on a bay
in Whatcom County,

in the shadow of the North
Cascades mountain range.

The city, incorporated
only 8 years prior,

has a bustling population
of 25,000 people.

Where pioneers still
work the land.

Immigrants arrive daily
to start a new life.

Businessmen look to make a name
for themselves in this new city.

The regions economy is built
on the timber industry

and there is a large transient
population of working men.

Bellingham also has the world's
largest salmon cannery.

With the number of men
coming and going,

many businesses open to serve
this working population.

There are saloons, brothels

Business is good.

Bellingham has another feature
that most cities do not have&

A mountain, in its backyard.

Only 31-miles away
as the crow flies.

Known to the Coast Salish
people as "Koma Kulshan,"

Mount Baker

a 10,781-foot volcanic,
glacial peak

dominates the landscape.

Named by Captain
George Vancouver,

of the H.M.S Discovery

after Lt. Joseph Baker,

the first crewman to
sight the icy slopes

during a mapping
expedition in 1792.

Seventy-six years
later, in 1868,

a climbing party led
by Edmond Coleman,

an alpinist living
in Victoria BC,

reaches the summit for
the first recorded time,

after a two week ascent.

Five years later in 1873

the second ascent results
in the first photograph

taken on the summit of Mt Baker.

This marks the dawn
of mountaineering

in the North Cascades.

One of the main reasons for
doing the marathons was

the idea that Mount Baker
could be a national park.

The first national park
was Yellowstone in 1872.

Then in 1899 Mount Rainier was
made into a national park.

The people in Bellingham looking
at Seattle and Mount Rainer

were really quite jealous,

they thought if Mount Rainer
could be a national park,

than Mount Baker could
be a national park too.

I don't know if Bellingham was
searching for an identity

so much as some type of event.

And, I think the Chamber
of Commerce in particular

was looking at the world fairs

and knew the value
of creating

some kind of tourist
destination.

Something that would
be unusual,

and so it had to be
rather sensational,

and that's how
the marathon,

Mount Baker Marathon
really fits in,

it's a crazy event.

The first race supposedly
came out of an argument

as to how fast you could
get from Bellingham

to the top of Mount Baker and
back to Bellingham again.

The interesting question was
could you do it in 24 hours?

No one had ever broken
the 24 hour mark before.

Hugh Galbraith, a logger
from Acme Washington,

was 19 years old
at the time.

There was a little competition,
or a little rivalry

between the two routes to get to
reach the top of Mount Baker.

One was by way of Glacier,

and the other by way of the
Deming trail they called it,

by the Heisler ranch.

And the rivalry got
quite keen and so...

they got to talking about
start having a race up there

and see which side could
get a man up to the top

and back the quickest.

Fifty-three year-old attorney
and avid outdoorsmen,

Arthur J. Craven,

is co-founder and first
elected president

of the newly formed
Mount Baker Club.

He approaches the
Chamber of Commerce

with an idea to
promote the mountain.

A Race.

The Mount Baker club and
the Chamber of Commerce

come together to develop an
idea to exploit the mountain.

They decide that they need
to have a trail system,

a road and a lodge eventually.

And, they want to bring
tourism into the area

they really wanted to
exploit the mountain

for as mush as they
can get out of it.

But, they needed to have
a gimmick, a plan or

something in order
to entice people.

So, they looked at the
rivalry that was going on

at the time between the
townships of Deming and Glacier

of which would be the
gateway to the mountain.

And with that idea they
came up with the concept

of the first Mount
Baker Marathon race.

The 24-hour event will start in
downtown Bellingham at 10p.m.

in front of the
Chamber of Commerce.

It will pit a special
train carrying runners

44-miles to the town
of Glacier,

against modified automobiles
carrying runners

25 miles to Heisler's ranch,

located at the trailhead
just beyond Deming.

They then depart from their
two modes of transportation

and race by foot to
the summit.

The runners reach the
snow-line at sunrise,

where they have the
option to change

clothes for the final
push to the summit

in a 32-mile round trip.

Many won't take the time.

On the Glacier route

the contestants run
28 miles round trip,

over steeper slopes

before reaching the
saddle of the mountain,

where they merge with
the Deming route for

the final 1,500 foot
ascent to the summit.

The runners must check
in with trail judges

at established way-points
along the trail.

The race is scheduled to
coincide with the full moon

to help illuminate
the trails.

The runners must
reach the snow-line

before the sunrise
thaws the snow-pack,

or the route becomes
more treacherous.

Certificates carried
by the contestants

will be signed by
judges at the summit,

where the runners will pause for
a mandatory four-minute break

before heading back to the
waiting autos or train.

They return to
Bellingham and

check in at the
Chamber of Commerce

with their signed
certificates to

claim their place
in the race.

The prize - the
Herald Cup trophy...

and $100 in double-eagle
gold coins.

For the winning townships
- bragging rights

and to be established as the
official gateway to Mount Baker

and the tourist trade
that it will bring.

Thirty-nine-year-old Jack
Golithon, is engineer

of the Bellingham Bay

and British Columbia
Number Three Special.

The train, with its
boiler stoked,

will wait for the
runners two blocks from

the starting line at
the Bellingham Depot.

Golithon and his crew, strip
down the engine to reduce weight

and connect one passenger
car behind the coal tender

to prepare for the
special's run to Glacier.

The town is a hamlet
of about 120 people

and a jumping off
point for the mines

operating in the
North Cascades.

In the early 20th century,
technology

and transportation are
at a turning point

and nowhere is
this more evident

than on the streets
of Bellingham

where horse drawn carriages
and ox-carts jostle

for space with automobiles
and trolleys.

Back in those days they
were racing Model Ts

every place in
the country.

You just couldn't
break them down.

So, my grandfather took
this as an opportunity

to prove that locally, and
he had a group of mechanics

in his shop that volunteered
to strip down those cars

and convert them
to racecars.

They would take a lot of the
unnecessary stuff off from them.

They would take the fenders off,
they'd take the windshield off,

they would take the lights off,

so that they were
light and fast.

It was kind of a clock
and dagger operation,

they wouldn't let
people see

what was going on
with those cars.

It was pretty
top-secret stuff.

His car,Betsy was named
after my grandmother,

who was a fairly quiet lady,

and I think that in an attempt
to make her a little happier

about Hugh involvement
in all this madness,

he named his car
the Betsy.

The automobiles in
the marathon

will travel on all sorts
of road conditions.

In the city they
travel on streets

made of concrete or brick,

but by the time
the autos reach

a short distance
outside of town

they encounter
something unique...

A plank road.

A plank road is an actual
road made of lumber.

Something that Bellingham
had plenty of was lumber

that they could actually
make streets out of boards.

Basically,
a street of slivers.

So, it wouldn't have
been comfortable.

You would've hoped
for some really good

shocks on your buggy.

And then eventually a couple
miles outside of town

it would have run
into a dirt road,

and it is dirt all
the rest of the way.

And all kinds of
dirt roads.

Were talking mud, ruts,
rocks, all the rest.

The autos pass through
Deming to reach

the trailhead at
Heislers Ranch.

As you travel on the dirt
road that runs through Deming

you notice that the buildings
lining each side of the street

have wood facades and
plank sidewalks.

It looks like a classic
Wild West town.

We're going to try and nab that
purse and trophy for Deming,

as we have four or five
pretty good hikers,

and sort of entertain
the notion,

that our town's
going to be

the proud possessor
of the Herald Cup.

Once official notice of the
prize money is posted,

Arthur Craven and the
Mount Baker Club

receive applicants from
all over the region.

Not to be outdone
by one another,

both Deming and Glacier
post their own contestants.

Hearty young men looking
for a challenge.

Some sign up to represent
their townships,

others just want a diversion
from their daily routine.

The runners come from many
backgrounds and professions.

There are mountain
men and coal miners.

Hugh Galbraith,
a logger.

Frank Bottiger,
tree faller.

Tom Kelly, a farmer
and wrestler.

Other runners include
a bedspring-maker,

a postman,
a milk inspector

and an insurance salesman.

Harvey Haggard is a young mule
packer from the Polson mines.

Coal miners, Joseph Frankoviz
and Norman Randall.

Twenty-eight year
old Clayton Wright,

a farmer and
mountain guide.

John Magnusson,
a timber cruiser,

and Stanley Gilday
a student.

And a young logger and
homesteader from Texas,

29-year-old John
Turner Riddle thinks

his chances are as
good as anyone's.

He was very athletic,
he looked like a runner.

He made his living in the woods.
He was a mountain man.

Turner and his brother-
in-law, Clarence

would think nothing of
walking into Bellingham

to get a 50-pound sack
of flour and walk back

back home with it so that
their wives could make bread.

I don't think Turner would
have ran for the money,

I think that Turner would
have more than likely done it

because he could.

Hugh Galbraith,
and his brother Joe,

know that the one-hundred dollar
prize would be a help family.

Their father, a local
constable and judge,

is murdered by bandits only
months before the race.

I am sure he probably
read that they were

going to have it
in the newspaper,

and he was very familiar
with Mount Baker

having been a ranger,

he knew exactly every direction
to get to the top of it.

I'm sure that he just
decided when he saw that

that would be something
he would enjoy doing.

He made just five
dollars a month

and he rode a
rickety bicycle,

apparently even without tires
to Bellingham over very

rutty roads to get
to high school.

Daddy graduated in 1903.

And in 1902 his high school team
won the state championship.

They had the flying wedge they
called it when he played.

And they all lined up in a wedge
and went right through the line

until so may people
were injured

that they made that
not a legal play.

But he did like to watch
our football games

except he did feel like
they were very wimpy

and they had to wear all
the padding and things,

that he did not wear
when he played football.

He said it was like
lawn tennis now.

The potential contestants sign
up at the Mount Baker Club

as Arthur Craven extols;

Anybody with a tenth of a
drop of sporting blood in him

cannot fail to enthuse over
the prospect of this race.

It is going to be the most
exciting event of the sort

ever pulled off on
the Pacific Coast

or so far as I know
in the United States.

These fine young
fellas are all husky,

healthy young men,
all in prime condition

and the man who wins
will be entitled to all

the glory and all the
honor we can accord him.

The runners soon find themselves
on the front page of newspapers

and the cover of magazines;

they're the guests of honor
at social functions.

These young wrestlers,

loggers and bedspring
makers are...celebrities.

August 9th, 1911.

The streets throughout
downtown seem deserted,

as the people and cars
usually found on the avenues

congregate in front of
the Chamber of Commerce

and along the race route as
the hour of 10pm approaches.

All along the route, from
Bellingham to the trailheads,

thousands of spectators wait for
the train and autos to pass

in hopes of catching a glimpse
of the runners on their

way to the summit.

For the local
population at least,

they had never seen
anything like it.

They never had a community
celebration like this,

or a community event
of this size.

Part of the attraction
was these automobiles,

which were still
a unique thing,

I mean, these were unusual,

people hadn't seen a
lot of automobiles,

and to see them go fast,
that's really even better.

This was a race that was between
men and their endurance,

and also between contrivances,

I mean between the railroad
and the automobile.

And the automobile
was a new thing

on the scene and
it was competing

with the railroad and all across
the transportation fronts.

So here was an
opportunity for them

to go head to head
in this deal.

Fourteen runners
ready themselves to

either climb into
their automobiles

or dash two blocks to the
Number Three Special.

The cars wait at the starting
line in anticipation

of their passengers as the
drivers of the Baby 40,

the Betsy, Hugh Diehl's modified
Model-T, and a Buick phaeton,

don their dusters
and driving goggles

in preparation for the dash
over dirt and rock roads.

Gentleman, the task before
you is a daunting one.

You'll climb aboard your chosen
method of transportation,

to your respective
trailheads in

the competing townships
of Deming or Glacier,

where you will run
thirty-two miles afoot

to the summit of Mount
Baker and return.

May Godspeed you all!

At the drop of a hat,
the race is on!

The automobiles start
with a loud bang

and their unmuffled
exhaust spits flames.

Frightened children clutch
the skirts of their mothers.

Strong-voiced farmer lads cheer
and buxom country maids shriek.

The supercharged atmosphere is
intense as the cars flash past.

Just moments later,

the Glacier-bound runners
board the train.

Within moments the engine
hisses loudly and chugs hard.

The powerful vibration
moves through the train

followed by the sound of
squealing steel wheels.

The repetitive sound of
the engine increases

and it becomes louder

as the train moves away
faster and faster.

It passes so quickly that
all that can be seen

or heard of her sounds
like an echo dying away

into the darkness
and distance.

---Jack Sparks,
Bellingham Herald

The cars jockey for position
and try to keep away

from the debris being thrown
up by the lead vehicle.

Many of the cars have the floor
boards removed to save weight.

The drivers and
passengers use foot pegs

and leather straps to
keep from falling out

as they watch the dirt, ruts,

and rocks pass under
their feet.

Some cars miss corners and
find themselves smashing

through cornstalks in
the middle of fields.

One of the autos hits a
pothole at full-speed tearing

its frame in half.

The runners, though uninjured
are knocked out of the race,

it's a long walk
back to Bellingham.

These people were on
the edge of disaster.

During the early days
of automotive industry

and the Model T days,

what you don't
read much about is

all the people
that were killed

on the road because the cars

didn't make it
around the corner,

or they ran into each other.
They were daredevils!

I don't know that they
really understood

the dangers that they were
putting themselves into.

I think the people
that ran to

the top of Mountain
Baker and back,

put themselves in
more danger

than the drivers
of those vehicles.

Back at the Chamber of
Commerce, the crowd is eager

to hear news of the
racers' progress.

As the train passes
through small towns

and hamlets on the way
to the trailhead,

spotters call the Chamber
with their clocked times.

The train, unencumbered
by its normal load,

travels at full steam at
over 65 miles an hour.

At 10;27pm the first train
report from Sumas comes in,

"How fast is she goin?"
is the question.

An operator in Sumas
replies, "I don't know,

but she's goin
like hell!"

Passengers on the Number
Three Special feel

as if the train is
floating on air

between the rail
and wheel as it

passes through Kendall
and nears Glacier.

The speeding automobiles
thread their way

through the woods
toward Heisler's Ranch,

where trail judges wait to
record their arrival times.

It is 10;54pm when
Joe Galbraith,

riding in Hugh Diehl's
Model-T Betsy,

reaches Heisler's Ranch
and the trailhead,

almost an hour after
the start of the race.

The other cars and racers
are just moments behind.

In Glacier, the Special's
headlamp comes into view

and the train lets
out a long whistle

as it pulls into the station.

A crowd forms
around the platform

as sparks fly from the
Specials' brakes.

At 11 p.m. sharp, Harvey
Haggard and the other runners

on the train disembark and

disappear into the darkness
of the trail to the yells of,

"For the glory of Glacier boys!"

How do you know your pace
when you are running up a

mountain and it's the first
time you ever done it?

So, my guess is that they were
trying to keep up with people,

not knowing whether or
not those were people

they could really keep up with.

Because you couldn't
really train

to do that race over
and over again.

It's easy to know what your pace
is when you are on flat ground

and your doing 26.2 miles.

It would be a lot
harder to know

in that elevation
on that terrain.

Some of them probably
wore themselves out

before they were
half way up.

These runners were quite
naive in what they probably

did to get themselves
ready for this great run.

Looking at the pictures can
give you a feel of just

how tired some of these
runners must have been.

These guys were farmers, and
coal miners and loggers.

These occupations gave then the
skill set that they would need

to move effectively
in the mountains.

They were used to
being outside.

They were used to moving
over uneven terrain.

They were used to
walking on logs and

moving down step slopes.

Their occupations also
gave them the foundation

of physical fitness that
they needed in a way that

made them competitive
in the race.

I think these guys that ran
the Mount Baker Marathon

were unbelievable.

I don't see how
they could do it.

I don't see how
they did it.

That you could do,

what is essentially a
marathon up a mountain

gaining that many
thousands of feet&

at night&in a storm,

it just blows my mind. I
can't imagine doing it.

I think they did it
the same way I do it.

They tapped into the
survival instinct;

basically this primitive
DNA that we all have

that we can get through
tough difficult situations,

and I think that's really
what sport is about.

It is what being in the
mountains is all about.

It's about surviving.

I think its one of
those things that

as a contestant in the
race on Mount Baker,

its actually to your
benefit to know less.

Because the more you
know about the mountain,

probably the more worried
your going to be.

On one hand you
have sheer novices

going up a mountain
like Mount Baker

completely unprepared,
no weather forecasts,

and in many cases
never having climbed

a mountain or been on a glacier

and their just going for it.

But I think what we forget,
these people were pioneers.

Joe Galbraith runs nearly
nonstop along the Deming trail.

At 11;39 p.m., before he
crosses the Nooksack River,

Joe head to the cabin of
forest ranger Carl Bell.

Bell receives him at the cabin
door, helping the runner inside.

He offers him a cup of coffee

while Mrs. Bell serves
up eggs and bacon.

Joe thanks the Bells
for their hospitality

and requests that in fairness

all climbers on the
Deming trail be

treated with equal
consideration.

Mrs. Bell responds with
her intent to do so,

keeping hot coffee at the
ready and food prepared for

each runner as
they come through.

I think, you know,
that renegade aspect,

that free-formed
nature that there were

no rules really, there were
very few rules for this event,

makes it really true
wild mountain running

As you go through,

as you get into the harder
aspects of the event,

when it gets more challenging

and the physical demand
becomes even harder

you actually simplify
your life even more.

You simplify the task even more.

What do I need to do to
keep moving forward?

What do I need to eat?
What do I need to drink?

Do I stop at the ranger station
and have a breakfast of

bacon and eggs and coffee?

Or, do I push through, because
this guy is right on my tail,

and I think I can do
without that nutrition.

Just focusing on
one step at a time

and solving the questions of now

where part of the event is

allowing your mind
to deal with life

and process the issues
that you're going through.

But, then part of the event
is the focus on the now,

and how do I get from
point A to point B,

and then maybe back
down to point C.

These guys probably weren
thinking a lot of strategy.

They were just in the moment,

which I think is really the
true aspect of the sport.

Being in the moment,

you know, running with people
having a social element,

but also being kind
of drawn in realizing

okay,how's my body
feeling, you know.

Not worrying about
other competitors,

but in the end those
other competitors

help push you just
a little bit further.

Days prior to the race,
summit judges and trail

guards establish camps
along the routes.

There is a determined effort to
prevent any form of cheating,

by documenting the
runners' times.

The rules allow runners
to invite family members

and friends to support
them at the timberline

with fresh clothes,

food and the option of
running as a companion.

It is daybreak. Joe Galbraith
reaches Mazama Park,

where his brother Hugh
is waiting to help him

prepare for his run
to the summit.

I was right in
amongst the thing,

right in the middle of it.

Well, this race, we,
ah, there was quite

a bunch of us camped
at what was known

then as Mazama Lake,
and it was right at the

edge of the snow-line
going up to Mount Baker.

And, when my brother got
up there that morning why,

we gave him some coffee
and a little refreshment,

and the funny part of it was in
that picture there at our camp,

while Joe was there
his two competitors,

It just so happens they
were good friends of ours,

and we were well
acquainted with them.

Naturally, we would help
them out all we could.

I couldn't imagine
running in those boots.

I mean; the crampons we ware
today are quite a bit longer.

The boots are flexible,

which will make it harder
to kick into the snow.

So cold. So thin

I can't honestly imagine wearing
those things up that mountain.

I can see how you
can hike in these,

but to run, pretty strong.

Poor bastards; I can't imagine
running 30 miles in these,

that would just be horrible.

They're probably guessing
at the right way to run

a race like this.

They are doing whatever
they need to do

to get up that mountain.

They're probability running some
of it and walking some of it.

Stopping to get their breath now
and again, to take in some fuel.

They're probably having panic
attacks on the way if they

are not professional runners.

My guess is that they
would get pretty scared

because the only way down
is the way they came.

It's high stakes. I think that
the contestants in this race

were defiantly placing
themselves in harms way

if they didn't know what
they were getting into,

and had no experience
on a glacier.

You can run for 15 miles
through the woods,

up through the foothills to
the base of the glacier,

but it is very different
from running a marathon

once you get to that glacier.

The runners who were going
up the Deming route likely

had significantly
steeper terrain.

The Deming itself is steep,
and they would have to go

around a significant
crevasse field.

If they go to the right,
it's a half-mile to a mile.

If they went to the left they
might be able to contour

up onto those slopes

and get around to the left,

which would have been faster.

And to have checked in with
the judges at the Saddle,

the Deming side would have been

the more difficult
side to run on.

The Deming runners,

they definitely had the
short end of the stick.

The runners begin
their final push

up the glacial face of the
mountain to the summit,

the most strenuous and
dangerous part of the race.

I am rather impressed with
not only the amount of

elevation change, but that
it was all in one push.

And that they're up at
elevations of eight, nine,

ten thousand feet
where the body starts

to experience changes because

there is less oxygen for
the muscles to utilize

while they are
still pushing hard

and trying to reach the summit.

The altitude isn't going to play

that big of a role in a
speed ascent like this

because you're going to gain and
lose that elevation quickly,

but it's an added
strain for sure.

They probably did have times
of physical break down,

and then at that point

you just have to rely on your
resolve to carry you through.

A lot of it, how well they did
had to do with what's here,

what's in their head rather
than what's in their bodies.

There's a point where you
give up on your expectations.

You realize you're at
the end of your rope.

You're at the end
of your resources,

your mind is exhausted
and you surrender.

You say, whatever
happens here happens,

and in that there is a
release of new energy.

Humans have been always
looking for a way of testing

themselves against
elements, against nature.

And this was half survival,
and half a race against time.

At 5;37 am, Joe Galbraith
arrives on the summit

in a snowstorm with winds
reaching 70 miles an hour.

Seven hours and a half
hours after the hat

was dropped in
downtown Bellingham.

He is surprised to find out he
has just missed Harvey Haggard,

who arrived on the
summit and departed back

toward Glacier just
19 minutes before.

Galbraith registers his
signature in the judges' book

and Davis signs Joe's
certificate carried

in an oilskin pouch
around his neck.

J.W. Collins, Davis's
right-hand man,

hands Galbraith a
cup of hot coffee.

Joe waits at the top of Mount
Baker for the mandatory

four minutes imposed
by the marathon rules.

His bare arms, legs and head
exposed to the elements.

At 5;41 a.m. as the judges
shout words of encouragement,

Joe begins the second
half of the race.

We found much to our
surprise that Mr. Haggard

had already been there and gone.

So, we thought well be
second in the race,

the Glacier way is
going to win out.

But when we started back
down, why, Joe seemed

to get a lot more life
in him, a lot more pep

and when he got back down
to where we were camped

and he made it right on
through in flying colors

just as full of pep
as when he started.

Daddy said it was a difficult
race, that he was tired.

I remember one
time he said right

when he was on his way down

he got down on his
knees and says

"God you're going to
have to help me."

You got to get a feeling
how the runs going,

and you can tell if
everything is going smoothly,

and its going to plan. And
you got the tail wind

and you're just nailing it.

Your body rested and it feels
good and you're charging.

Verses, you crash
through the ice,

and then you put on track
spikes and it is above freezing

and you can't get any purchase
because it's all mush.

And then someone
stole your stuff...

All of a sudden it
starts adding up

and you're like,
jeeze, you know.

My rule of thumb is three
things go wrong, you run away.

Out of the 14 runners to start
the race, Joe Galbraith,

John Magnuson and Turner Riddle
make it down the Deming side.

Harvey Haggard and
Norman Randall

make it down to
the Glacier side.

The others have dropped
out of the race,

many before reaching the summit.

Of these five remaining
runners, only four will finish.

The runners are breaking all
estimated times, catching trail

judges completely off guard as
they come down the mountain.

They are dehydrated, delirious
and at times incoherent.

The runners know they have
reached the final leg of

the race and yet they extend
themselves beyond their limits.

Something clicks.
You see the reality,

whether its some one
coming up behind you,

or the finish line
comes into sight.

There's this other ability
that takes over and

I can't imagine what they
are doing knowing that

when they finish the
running part of the event,

then they then have
to get on a train

and get to the next
finish line.

There was only one
train to come back on.

What the rules said was,

the train would stay
there one minute

after the first
runner had arrived.

Any other runners who made it
to the train within one minute

of the leader
would be on board

and all be on board for the
run back to Bellingham.

If you didn't get there
within one minute,

well you were out of the picture

unless you could find some
other way to get down.

The train left without you, and
you were just stuck in Glacier.

At 9;01am, Harvey Haggard
and Norman Randall

come off the trail at Glacier

traveling a 28-mile round
trip to the summit of

Mount Baker in ten
hours and one minute;

a feat few thought possible.

A crowd gathers when Haggard
and Randall scramble

off the trail and
emerge from the forest.

Randall is on
Harvey's heels down

the trail but he can't keep up.

Drained of all energy,
Randall is tapped out

and ends his race in
Glacier as he watches

the train and Haggard
depart without him.

On the other side of
the mountain Galbraith

sees the trailhead in sight.

As he approaches, he borrows
a verse from Sir Walter Scott's

"Highland Gathering,"
and makes it his own;

Speed, Molise, speed!
The trail is past,

Heisler's house
appears at last,

And peeps like moss
grown rocks half seen,

Half hidden in the
copse of green.

There may'st thou
rest, thy labor done,

Hugh Diehl and "Betsy"
shall speed thee on.

Joe arrives at Heisler's
Ranch at 9;40 am

after a 32-mile round
trip to the summit.

Almost 12 hours exactly from
the time he left Bellingham.

With an overcoat and goggles for
the trip, he climbs in Betsy,

and speeds through Deming for
Bellingham and the finish line

Galbraith will later say;

it was the most terrifying
ride of his life.

Haggard is in first place aboard
the Number Three Special.

His team lifts him onto
a makeshift table,

strips him of his
soiled clothes,

and begins rubbing him down.

Golithon, with the
throttle wide open,

is speeding down the rails
at 65-miles an hours,

rounds a bend and suddenly
sees a big red bull

standing on the track.

With only seconds to react,

he pulls on the whistle cord
to warn his passengers.

In the rear carriage car,

Haggard hears that
whistle scream...

and everything goes topsy-turvy.

Haggard, still undressed,
emerges from the wreckage.

I am alright, but I am
afraid I have lost the race.

The conductor attaches a phone
to the train's private line,

and calls ahead to Maple Falls

asking for a saddle
horse to be made ready.

A local farmer, on
horse and carriage

rushes over and offers help.

Harvey still has a chance
if he can get to Kendall,

where an auto can take
him to Bellingham.

Worried that the open ride will
chill the depleted runner,

a bathrobe is given to
Haggard for the trip.

For the club's Executive
Committee it appears a calamity

and a media nightmare
are about to unfold.

But as the regional papers
sensationalize the wreck,

the would be disaster turns
into the best PR stunt

the Club could have hoped for.

Three men dead,
including Golithon,

but in reality no
one is killed,

except for the big red bull.

The carriage takes
Haggard to Maple Falls,

where a horse named Buster waits
to carry him several miles

to Kendall crossing,
the nearest drivable road.

Harvey isn't known
for his horsemanship

nor Buster for his patience.

At Kendall Crossing,
Haggard makes his transfer

for the last leg of his journey,

only to have his car
break down several times

after slamming into
potholes along the way.

Harvey later describes
his journey as a blur;

a whirling dream,a moving
picture show running amuck.

In Bellingham the crowd roars as

Joe Galbraith and Hugh
Diehl speed into town.

Joe, shaken from the ride,
stumbles out of the car

and takes the last
leg of the journey

to the top floor of the
Chamber of Commerce.

Runner comin' in,
runner comin' in!

Exhausted, delirious
and euphoric,

Joe has to be reminded that
his certificate needs to be

presentedand the official
record book signed

before he can be
declared the winner.

You have to register,
over here, sir...

In a time of 12 hours and
28 minutes, Joe Galbraith,

is the champion of the
1911 Mount Baker marathon.

Mr. Galbriath, congratulations,
you are the first winner

of the Mount Baker Marathon.

Just minutes behind Galbraith,
Harvey Haggard arrives.

As his machine roars
down Magnolia Street,

Haggard yells for his
driver to pull over,

in fear that the crowd
will surround them.

He jumps out and sprints
down the street to

the Chamber office, still
wearing his bathrobe.

Haggard's trials and
tribulations during

the race make headlines.

He survives a train wreck,

a buggy and horse
ride and a detour in

a speeding automobile,
all for second-place.

To Harvey Haggard, the mule
packer from the Pulson Mine,

second place isn't first,
but he's happy to be alive.

After the first race there were
days and nights of celebrations.

The last of which was
a giant barbecue,

and on the menu?

The big red bull
who had derailed

the Glacier route
Haggard train.

So, this first year
was a real success.

Nobody else is doing
anything remotely like this

and it is a testimony to
the remarkable stamina,

toughness and courage of
the men of this region.

So, they plan to do it again
in the summer of 1912.

It is 1912. The Titanic sinks
in the North Atlantic.

Explorer Robert Falcon
Scott perishes during

an expedition to the South Pole,

and in Bellingham, the Chamber
of Commerce begins an

aggressive campaign to raise
funds for the second marathon.

Henry Engberg is a local
pharmacist who always seems

to be outshined by his
19-year old wife,

Madam Davenport Engberg,
a virtuoso violinist,

and the first woman
in the United States

to conduct her own orchestra.

It is now Henry's turn
to be in the spotlight

as the newly elected president
of the Mount Baker Club.

Engberg plans to make
his mark by expanding

the marathon into a
three-day celebration

and to raise the first place
prize to 500 dollars,

which attracts competitors from
Boston, Canada and California.

He introduces a new marathon
logo, the Mount Baker Club goat.

J.J. Donovan, railroad baron and
lumber tycoon is a supporter

of the Chamber of Commerce and
the Mount Baker Marathon.

His status in the community and
desire to promote business

in the region attracts
investors to Engberg's cause.

The club arranges for the U.S.
fleet to anchor in the bay

so that people can tour
the famous warships.

There is no shortage
of new festivities.

Motorboats race on the lake,

parades fill the street

and a circus attracts
huge crowds.

Parachute jumps and hot air
balloon rides are offered

and many see an
airplane fly overhead

for the first time
in their lives.

SFX; Airplane

A group of citizens, drivers
and shopkeepers confront

the race committee
about safety concerns.

The group wants to move the
automobile race outside the city

for fear of speedy
autos crashing

through store fronts
or into the crowds.

They are met with derision
by the race committee.

"You care more about the
race than those in it

and you won't be happy
until someone's dead!"

"If you don't drive we'll find
red-blooded men who will!"

Subsequently, the public
is barred from future

committee meetings. The event
will go on as planned.

Joe Galbraith, the previous
year's champion makes headlines

when he breaks his
arm and shoulder

in an auto accident
while training

and counts himself out
of the competition.

Joe's brother, Hugh, decides
to go in his place.

The time for the race nears,

and over 20,000 people
crowd the streets.

However, a storm is
brewing on the mountain.

When summit judges Nathan
Davis, and J.W. Collins

reach the snow-line,

they realize the weather
conditions are far

too dangerous to send
runners up the slopes.

Davis, concludes that the
race must be stopped.

Davis knows his decision to halt
the race is not going to be

taken lightly back in Bellingham
by the executive committee.

He and Collins head
off the mountain

and on their way down they
run into Ranger Carl Bell.

They explain to
him the situation

that they are facing
on the mountain.

Carl decides, I need to go
into town with these guys

and help support their cause.

They head into Deming and
once they get there they

run into Joe Galbraith,
the previous years winner.

And they solicit his help
to come into town also.

Once they were about
ready to take off,

Davis realizes there's no
judges on the mountain

and Engberg is not going
to be a happy man.

So, he jumps out of the car
and runs into the hotel

and tells the
switchboard operator

"Call into town and let the
executive committee know

they're not on the mountain and
they are on their way in."

As in the previous year,

the race is scheduled
to start at 10pm,

but at 5pm at the Chamber

of Commerce rooms,

Engberg, and the
Mount Baker club's

executive committee are
in a state of denial.

Reporters, investors,

promoters and even citizens
corner board members,

asking what is to
become of the race.

Then, shocking word from Deming,

the judges are on their
way back to Bellingham.

The committee is flabbergasted.

The club members become nervous,

are they courting disaster?
If so,

the blame may lie at their feet.

Davis and Collins enter the
committee meeting room,

with Ranger Carl Bell
and Joe Galbraith.

It's the trail. It is
completely buried in snow.

And the judges are standing
in my office instead of

The reception is as
cold as they expected.

Engberg is angry.

Nothing Davis says seems
to make an impression.

And so you gave up? It
is all costing money,

money we don't have
unless we pull this off.

And, it is costing the
city its reputation,

not to mention my own.

Your reputation?

If you start men up
that mountain now,

you're sending them
to their deaths.

[Arguing]

[BANG,BANG,BANG]

Joe Galbraith stands before
the executive committee

with one arm raised
in a plaster cast.

If you would lay $5,000
dollars in my hand to climb

the mountain tonight,
I would not go.

To try it would be
worst than suicide.

Engberg's decision will seal

the fate of the Mount
Baker marathon.

Let me make something perfectly
clear so there is no mistake.

When this resumes it will
not again be halted.

The runners will run up
that mountain regardless

of weather or
trail conditions,

neither I, nor this
committee gives

a damn if it takes
them three days

they will run up that mountain.

Mr. Davis you will
make preparations

to stay on the summit for a
week, longer if necessary.

This city will not be seen by

the rest of the
country to be some,

backwater hicks in
some jerk-water town

who can't pull off
a simple race.

Do I make myself clear?

[All] Yes, sir...

Go on. Leave.

The official postponement is not
announced until after 9 p.m.,

just one hour before the
scheduled start of the race.

Postponing the marathon is a
heavy blow for those invested.

The city is filled to
capacity, more than doubling

the number in attendance
from last year.

Headlines in the morning
papers read as if

the Mount Baker Club
has saved the day,

averting a near disaster -

"Committee refuses to
send men to death."

Engberg knows for every day
the race is delayed visitors,

and their money are
leaving the city.

He has to start the race
to avoid financial ruin.

Fortunately, as the day of the
race dawns the weather clears

and the judges once again
head for the summit,

but this time
prepared for any

weather conditions
that might arise.

As a simple matter of fact,
when you ascend 10,000-feet

you can expect the
temperature is going

to be approximately
35-degrees Fahrenheit lower

than it would be at sea level.

And so, if the temperature
is 70-degrees at sea level,

it could be 35-degrees
at the summit of Baker,

and that doesn't
even count the wind,

they would have been at
the mercy of the weather.

Ie climbed Mount Baker
between 50 and 70 times.

I've had days on the summit
that were perfectly calm,

sunny and pleasant

and I had days that
were brutally cold.

Where you were just trying
to get out of there

before you lost fingers
and toes to frostbite

A windy cold night on the
summit of MountBaker

for those judges a
hundred years ago

would have been pretty
rough duty up there.

The first year of the races
accommodation for judges

were not very good.

The judges practical froze to
death when they were there.

So, for the second race,

they decided to have
better accommodation.

A canvas and metal structure
was built on the very top

of Mount Baker that was big
enough to hold six people.

Camping on the summit can be
a very pleasant experience,

or it can be a very, very,
very unpleasant experience.

If you have a snow
shelter its probably

going to be a more pleasant

because high winds
will be buffeted

by that more easily
than a tent will.

The wind conditions on top
of Mount Baker are commonly

40 , 50 miles an hour, often
60 miles an hour or more.

It can be arctic up there.
It can be like, Denali honestly.

It's serious up there.
Very serious,

especially for people
who aren't

prepared properly for
those conditions.

Which, back then,
nobody was.

One of the disadvantages of the
first year's race was that

once the racers left the
train or cars on the route

to the top of Mount
Baker and back,

nobody had any idea
where they were or

who was ahead during
that part of the race.

In the second year
they laid telephone

wires way up the mountain,

so they could have stations
and relay back to Bellingham

how the racers were doing
and who was a head.

Nine runners, including
Harvey Haggard,

in his second bid for first
place start the race.

Turner Riddle, John
Magnuson and Joe Frankovis

also return to try
for the $500 purse.

Hugh Galbraith finds
himself in Betsy two,

speeding toward Deming,

just like his brother
the year before.

His cousin Victor Galbraith
joins the race as well.

Yeah, I was going to run.

I did get as far out
as the Hiesler ranch

in one of the Betsys', one of
the little Ford cars they took.

But, riding around
those sharp turns and

stopping and starting
quick, it made me seasick.

I got so sick that I simply
couldn't go any farther.

That's all there was too it,

so I quit.

Lead Judge Nathan Davis snaps
a photo of John Magnuson

as he takes his mandatory
break at the summit,

the only known image of
a runner at the peak.

The runners break all of
the trail times set by

the previous year's contestants
by over two and a half hours.

Harvey Haggard, his second
chance on the Glacier trail,

comes down the mountain
in first place

and climbs aboard the
Number Three Special.

Harvey Haggard, whose run
in with the bull left him

struggling for second
place the year before,

is now champion of the
1912 Mount Baker Marathon.

But the race is
far from over.

And there were huge,
huge crowds.

And they would wait all
night long for reports.

No body went to bed.

The automobile races they
had with the Baby 40

and the Betsy I and
II and the National

and several other cars.

They would come down that
stretch of Elk Street

with flames spurting out
of the adjusted tubes

that stuck out of the
sides of the cylinders

at a speed of 72 miles
an hour,

which in that day
was considerable.

I happened to see the as he
skidded. He lost control.

His breaks had gone out

and he came around
the corner there.

There was a vacant lot with
some cordwood piled along side,

and a big crowed in
front of it and he...

[Screeching tires, car crash,
screams from the crowd]

plowed right into that crowd
losing control of it.

Quite, looked to be a
very bad accident.

One was quite badly hurt.

[Get a doctor!
Get a doctor!]

The worst fears of the
storeowners come true.

A.A. Rogers, a Civil War
veteran is hit by a car.

He is taken to his home and then
by ambulance to the hospital,

though gravely injured,
he survives.

Harvey Haggard is awarded the
$500 dollar prize and news

of the marathon is reported in
papers from coast to coast.

The race generates
so much interest

that the Mount Baker club

and Chamber of
Commerce believe

they finally have a
formula for success.

It is August of 1913.

Europe in on
the brink of war.

Woodrow Wilson is the new
President of the United States,

and The Mona Lisa is
recovered in Italy.

The Mount Baker club has a new
president, Raymond Greene.

The race festivities
are expanded.

The Ringling Brothers
Barnum and Bailey Circus

is in town for the celebration

and more than 20,000
spectators travel to the city

by boat and train
to watch the race.

There was a lot
at stake in 1913.

The Mount Baker club
wanted to make this

the biggest marathon yet.

And in doing so,
they were gambling.

They were spending
far more money

than what they had coming in,

and their expenses far exceeded
their banking accounts.

This year, the marathon
will start on August

the 16th at 5;30 in
the morning,

to give the crowd a better
chance to see the race,

but unfortunately the
earlier starting time

will also add to the dangerous
trail conditions faced

by the runners on
the mountain.

Proven that the Glacier
route is the fastest

the race is changed
to even the odds.

The runners will travel by
train or auto to the mountain

and once they reach the summit
will return by opposite trail

and mode of transportation.

Each runner will travel by
train, by foot and by auto.

Once again, bad weather
assaults the mountain

and another storm is brewing
between Nathan Davis

and Raymond Greene.

Davis, stationed on the
mountain at the snow-line

calls Greene at the Chamber.

[Phone rings]

The storm is upon us,
and its not letting up.

I have to advise you
to postpone the race.

Do not send the runners.
It is not safe.

What are your instructions?

You stand fast Mr. Davis.
Wee aware of the situation.

We are just as concerned for
the runners as you are.

We will advise you
in the morning.

A lot can change in
twenty-four hours.

[Phone hangs up]

Greene did not want
to have a debacle

like Engberg
had in 1912.

He was going to gamble.
He was gamble

that the weather was
going too break,

and he was willing to gamble
on the lives of his runners.

He was going to start the race
on schedule no matter what.

The morning of the race, Davis,

weathering the storm
at Mazama Park,

assumes his plea to postpone
the race has been heeded,

he and his fellow judges
pack up their camps.

But back in Bellingham,

confusion among
the race officials,

and investor's
resistance to postpone,

override fears for the
safety of the runners.

The race starts and 14
runners unknowingly

speed toward the storm.

The officials on
the Glacier side

have already left their camp

On the Deming side, Davis
and his men are heading

off the mountain when
they are shocked to see a

mud-covered Paul Westerlund,

a professional runner
from California,

advancing up the
trail toward them.

Davis tells the man
to go only as far as

the saddle of the mountain,

an area 1,500 feet
below the summit.

He is told do not attempt to
summit under any circumstances.

With no judges on the other
side of the mountain,

the Glacier runners
continue onto the summit,

just missing the Deming runners
coming down from the saddle.

Millard Burnside, a local
mountain man forced

to run without his pet bear,

is the first to
reach the summit.

Three more runners
soon follow.

Confused, they call
out for the judges,

search the area, but can
find no one to report to.

Burnside decides to end his
bid and to stay behind

to assist any others who
reached the summit.

The last runner to leave
Burnside is Victor Galbraith,

cousin of Joe Galbraith, the
champion of the 1911 marathon.

When you're on the summit area
of Mount Baker and the clouds

come in it is very difficult
to tell which way is which,

because everything slopes
away, so it's hard.

You think you're going back
the direction you came from,

but you could be off a couple
of degrees and as you get

a little lower it pulls you
a little more to the side

and you can go off completely

the opposite side
of the mountain.

This happens, that's
how people get lost.

Victor Galbraith, alone as
he comes down the mountain,

takes an impulsive shortcut.

You go from being on the
surface, to just being

in this black pit that
you can't get out of.

Victor Galbraith knocked himself
out for a little while,

and then he had to come to,

and deal with this environment.

Man. that's a tough guy.

From probably the most
dangerous perspective,

potentially icefall could
come down and hit you.

It could be drippy,
spindrifts coming down.

Snow coming down.

Galbraith being at
the bottom

of a crevasse for five
hours is pretty bad.

Especially the fact
that he was injured,

nobody knew where he was,

his expectancy was honestly
less than five hours.

The other runners didn't
even notice he was missing.

He tried to keep warm
and active

by running back and forth.

The bottom of a crevasse
is like a refrigerator.

And, if you're dressed light
for a quick ascent and descent

and you're stuck
inside a refrigerator

for four to six hours,

your chances of survival,
if not found are very limited.

If he didn't have any safety
equipment to get out of there,

He's popsicle material.

Yeah, I mean...

My Dad and my Uncle Aud,

heard that he had
fallen in a crevasse.

They sent a team to
follow his trail up to

the top of the mountain.
A rescue team.

And they told my Uncle Aud that
they were going, and he said,

"Well, I'm just going to
start up through here,

because I think I can
get there more quickly

than following his trail."

He and my dad in fact
started right up

and went straight to
where my cousin was.

They saw where his tracks had
gone down into the crevasse,

and my uncle yelled,

"Victor." And he said, "Aud
old boy, is that you?"

He said it sounded like
the voice of angels.

He though he was dead. He had
been in there a long time

and he was probably at that
point almost unconscious.

They put ropes down
and pulled him out.

He's lucky he survived, and
he's lucky people found him,

'cause there's no way

you can live very long
in that environment

when you're not
very well equipped

and not very well prepared.

He was brought by improvised
toboggan back down the mountain.

Newspaper articles said that
he had cuts and bruises,

but perhaps the
problems were worse.

Years later, his family
said he was still suffering

from problems related
to the fall.

The rest of the runners
continue the race.

As they come off
the Deming trail,

many of the runners are so
disoriented and delirious

that they run past their
waiting automobiles.

Drivers have to herd their
runners and even lash some of

them to their seats before
starting back to the city.

Huge crowds await the
runners back in Bellingham

The first through the Chamber
door is Paul Westerlund,

the runner who had
traversed the saddle.

The poor condition of the
returning runners is obvious.

It is not long
before Nathan Davis

and the contestants tell the
story of the botched race,

and of a runner
lost in a crevasse.

I can only say, hereafter
get someone else to

act as judge on the mountain.

I am done.

The marathon is won in a record
time of 9 hours and 39 minutes.

But who actually won the race?

Is it Paul Westerlund,

who crossed the saddle
to finish first?

Or is it John Magnuson, who
reached the summit only

to arrive in Bellingham
in third place?

Three and a half hours
behind Westerlund.

The Mount Baker club offers
a take-it-or-leave-it deal.

Barroom brawls break out over

which township should
be declared the winner,

and the runners
demand their awards.

If those summit
contestants make trouble,

I'll&I'll award the prizes
to the Saddle runners.

I will not change my ruling.

Everything that could
go wrong in 1913 did.

The people were
disappointed with the race.

The Mount Baker club was
financially strapped.

Runners were protesting
the results of the race.

And, to make things worse,

newspapers were calling the
marathons human horse races.

J.J. Donovan writes an open
letter to the newspaper.

The third marathon is over
and no runner is killed.

A fourth may not
be so lucky.

It is time to stop.

Without the
financial support

from Bellingham's
affluent society,

the Mount Baker
Marathon is bankrupted.

The town of Glacier,
seizing an opportunity to be

crowned gateway
to the mountain,

announces a
"Race for blood,"

doubling the marathon purse
to an astonishing $1,000,

to settle once and for all

who is the real winner
of the 1913 marathon.

Two runners are willing
to take up the challenge.

Paul Westerlund,

who feels he needs to
defend his name and title.

And Millard Burnside,

who abandoned the
race at the summit.

Burnside declares that if
he hadn't chosen to freeze

on the summit he would
have won the race.

The other contestants,

are too bitter and
disillusioned,

they refuse to compete.

In the early hours
of August 31, 1913,

the Number Three Special,

the train that had delivered
runners to Bellingham,

now delivers
spectators to Glacier.

The Sumas marching band plays
to a crowd of 15,000 people,

who surround the trailhead to
witness the historic event.

Not only does Paul
Westerlund win the match,

he also breaks all
previous trail records

with a staggering time of
6 hours and 2 minutes.

Millard Burnside limps
in 37 minutes later.

It will prove to
be the last time

a finish line is crossed
in a Mount Baker Marathon.

It would have continued
if the management

had been good all
the way through.

A great deal of the trouble
that closed those marathons

was the fact that people
were afraid of subjecting

these runners to such
great hardships.

So, it could have kept just
the same as an annual event,

which would have drawn
tremendous crowds.

Well, the first race or two
they didn't care whether

they had any money or not.

They weren't interested
in the money part of it.

They were just interested
in getting up Mount Baker

and back the quickest.

It was a big event, and it
continued to be a big event

for two or three years

until it began to
get commercialized,

and the professional
racers came up here.

And then, well, my cousin
fell in a crevasse,

and a couple different
things happened,

and the interest
kind of died out.

and they just dropped
it that's all.

More than a century
has past since

the Mountain Runners attempted
to conquer the summit.

Their names and faces
have faded with time.

For every man who succeeded,
there were far more who failed,

and still, the mountain,
Koma Kulshan,

beckons . . .