Home | Family | Friends | Running Stuff | Favorite Things
Back to Adventures Page

 
     

This an edited version of an article I posted to an Ultra-running Internet List I belong to...(7/97)

As many of you out there in Cyber-Land may know, I had the opportunity to travel down to Australia in the summer of 1997 and participate in a filmed documentary called "The Human Race". The race was a 600k wilderness survival trek across the Kimberley region of Western Australia. There were three competitors: Jack Jugarre, an Aboriginal man who has lived his entire life in that area; Rudiger Nehberg, a German survivalist whose previous exploits included walking the entire length of both the Blue Nile and Amazon rivers, and rafting across the Atlantic ocean (Twice!); and myself, Dave Covey, an American Ultradistance runner.The pre-race rules were simple: Each man was only allowed to start off with a weeks (or less) worth of food, and after that, had to rely on finding, hunting or foraging for their own food. (Or as they call it down there, "bush tucker".) No one was allowed to travel by use of vehicle or animal, the route must be completely overland-no vehicle tracks or roads allowed. We were not allowed assistance of any kind by anyone else, except in case of dire medical emergency. The first man to reach the town of Wyndham would be declared the winner, and the other two would be rounded up and brought in to the finish.

 


Dave, Jack and Rudi several days before the start of the Trek


I went into this event with NO wilderness survival or multi-day trekking experience, I was by far the least experienced of the three men. My background is in running and cycling. I've been running for about 20 years, with over 400 races and 80+ Marathons and Ultras under my belt. This was going to be a new and difficult challenge for me! One advantage (or disadvantage, depending upon how you look at it) was that I was much younger than my competitors. Jack's age was not clear, but he was somewhere around 70 years old, while Rudi is 61. You'd never know that Rudi is that old, however, the man is a definite force of nature! Strong as a bull, and an irrepressible zest for life. He's sort of like the Jack La Lanne of survivalism, I guess. I was the young pup of the three at age 35. Before the event started, Rudi and I joked that we could compare ourselves to certain animals; I was the greyhound, he was the pack mule, and Jack was the Black swan. Little did we know how appropriate those analogies would later turn out to be!

 


Crazy Rudi sampling some of the local cuisine!

 

 

 

Rudi and I were flown to Perth about two weeks before the actual start of the event. We spent the next 15 days traveling to, and familiarizing ourselves with, the area that we would be trekking through. The Kimberley region of Western Australia is one of the most rugged and inhospitable areas in the world. They call it "The Last Frontier" down there. The trek started at Wolfe Creek Crater, (2nd largest meteorite impact crater in the world-1/2 mile across) and would proceed in a northerly direction towards the coastal town of Wyndham. The crater is on the edge of the Great Sandy Desert, so the terrain and environment were very dry. As the course headed north, there were more sources of water- a few small pools, some dried up rivers that still had a little bit of moisture in them, but generally the entire region was pretty dry, as this was their winter-the dry season. Water sources were few and far between.
.....Since this was the dry season, that also meant there was very little bush tucker available to find. Rudi and I went out for a couple of days before the trek with some local Aborigine people who showed us some of the edible things to eat out in the bush. Even they had trouble finding things to live on! And some of the food sources were very impractical to try and acquire, such as bush honey, which was located inside of tree trunks,- you basically had to chop down an entire tree to find just a small amount of honey inside. Delicious, yes, but not worth the energy expenditure to carry an axe and fell the tree. But we did learn a few things about some of the edible plants in the area. We were also indoctrinated by the local government land management agency as to which animals we were allowed to kill to eat,(there are many endangered species living in the area) and which animals were the most dangerous. By far, the biggest concern was with the crocodiles that inhabited the second half of the route. There are two types of crocs indigenous to the Kimberleys; the freshwater crocodile,(freshies) and the saltwater crocodile (salties). The freshies grow to a size of about 3 meters, and generally are not considered aggressive or dangerous, unless directly threatened or stepped on. The salties, however, are VERY dangerous. They grow to a size of 7 meters, are definitely aggressive, and very cunning predators. They, like the great white shark, are one of nature's perfect killing machines. Once every couple of years or so, you hear of some poor person who met up with an untimely end because they had gotten to close to the waters edge. These monsters are truly scary.

Now armed with a little knowledge of the region, Rudi and I were ready to start the trek with Jack. Jack is an Aboriginal elder from Halls Creek, W.A., a small community about 150k northwest of Wolfe Creek Crater. He is an Aboriginal "lawman", the leader of his tribe, or as they call it, "mob". To the best of my knowledge, there are no more Aboriginals that actually live and survive out in the bush, running around in loin cloths and throwing spears, a la Crocodile Dundee. At least in this region, anyway. Most, if not all, of the native peoples live in communities that are loosely administered and monitored by the Australian government. The current state of the Aboriginal in modern-day Australia is appalling. The situation is much like our own Native American problems, with rampant alcoholism, sub-standard living conditions, and almost total lack of self-worth. In fact, I'd have to say that the situation is much worse. The govt. subsidizes the Aborigines with money, but most of the people just go out and spend it on "grog" (booze). There don't appear to be any serious social programs to assist the native people in maintaining a dignified or productive way of life. Once again, the white man has gone in and destroyed what was once a beautiful and thriving culture by stealing the land and identity of these fine people.

Fortunately, there are people in the Aboriginal community like Jack Jugarre, who is one of the most amazing, and dignified people I have ever met. Jack claims to have never touched a drop of alcohol in his life, and he is understandably distressed to see the Aborigine generations that follow him waste their lives away in an uneducated, self-loathing, alcoholic haze. This trek was going to be a chance for him to send a message to the younger people to show what they could do in life if they would apply themselves. Jack is a kind and gentle man, with a great sense of humor. It was a little hard for me to understand him at times, as he spoke a sort of creole-type English, but I did enjoy talking to him before and after the trek, and I feel we definitely formed a bond of mutual love and respect.
.....I also bonded well with Rudi, we spent a lot of time together before the trek started. He too, has a great sense of humor, and is definitely a showman, as you will all see if you view the documentary. Rudi is heavily involved with bringing to light the plight of the Yanomami Indians of Brazil, a tribe of native peoples in the rain forests of Brazil that are being enslaved or exterminated by gold miners that are plundering their lands. Rudi is very famous in Germany, he has written many books on his experiences over the years, (unfortunately they are written only in German) and before the trek we were approached by quite a few admiring German tourists who wished to speak to Rudi about his adventures. It was a hoot, I tell you, to personally know such a famous bloke! Rudi's biggest desire was to get really up close and personal with some of the salties that he would see later on in his trek. I'm not going to say that the man has a death wish, but he really does push that envelope of safety every now and then! I too, wanted to see the crocs, but from a reasonably safe distance. I think if Rudi had his druthers, he would surf some of those buggers down the river!

 


A 17 foot Saltie catchin' some rays

 


A popular beer coaster found in Western Australian pubs (Really!)

 

.....In the days before the trek started, Jack, Rudi and I were sequestered at a station house (ranch) about 10k from the crater and the start of the race. There were three film crews (one for each walker) busily scurrying about, making their preparations, checking equipment, learning how to ride horses. The plan was for the film crews to follow their respective walker through the bush for as long as possible with four-wheel drive vehicles, then switch to horse teams when the terrain got too rough for the vehicles. There was a tremendous amount of logistical problems, confusion and tension, as something like this had never been attempted before. Prior to flying down to Australia, I had asked the producer if they had some sort of "agenda" in mind for their film, such as; was there a particular person they wanted to win, or were they going to portray each walker (character)in a certain (and possibly inaccurate) way, etc. He assured me that they would not. When they started filming the pre-race interviews with us, it was apparent that the main director had other ideas. He wanted to portray me as the "Future Man", using all of the latest modern technology and gadgetry to help me navigate my way through the bush. Fair enough, I was using a GPS unit, lightweight Gore-Tex materials on some of my equipment, and some other "modern" amenities. But the questions asked of me were definitely trying to steer me in a direction that would make me appear to be boastful and cocky , which I feel is definitely contrary to my nature. I think I successfully answered the questions without "trash-talking" my fellow competitors. The night before the trek started, the main director told me that, "In a perfect world, Dave, you would struggle on this trek, and Jack would win." Hmm. No agenda, eh? As if it weren't going to be hard enough to walk 600k through the wilderness, now I had to worry about coming across as a boastful jerk on film to the 30 million + people around the globe that would be viewing this documentary, not to mention any "surprises" the filmmakers might throw my way. Ah well, no sense in overly stressing about it, let's just get started!

Rudi, Pre-Trek
  As you might imagine, I could type up pages and pages of material detailing the adventures of the trek, but for the sake of time, and your disk space, I'll just mention some of the details and highlights (and lowlights). The trek started on June 26, at about 8am, after trudging up and down the side of the crater about a dozen times for the cameramen who were filming us from a helicopter. (Filmmaking can be a very laborious and repetitive process...) Rudi, Jack and I were starting at the same place, and finishing at the same place, but we were each taking different routes to get there. Rudi would be taking the Western route, which would eventually lead him up through the Chamberlain river valley towards Wyndham, Jack would be heading up the Central Valley, basically paralleling the only main highway in this region, and I was taking the Eastern route, which would take me through the Bungle Bungle and Ragged Range areas. It was generally acknowledged that I had the toughest route of the three, with Jack's route being the easiest and most direct. I had to make a 35 kilometer detour right from the beginning to go around a "muster" (roundup) of ten thousand head of cattle that was being conducted along my route. The producers felt it would not be a good idea to spook those cows and start a range war! (I agreed.) The first water source I was heading for was a water bore (well) about 37k away. Using only map and compass, I managed to come within 200 meters of the bore. Not bad for a bloke who had never even used a compass before. I couldn't use the GPS quite yet, as we did not have any detailed maps of this area. I must also note that the maps we were using were last updated in 1966-30 years old! So throughout the trek it was never a sure thing that any of the bores or water tanks that were marked on the maps were still functional. Hence, I was usually carrying a fair amount of water with me at all times. Can you say HEAVY pack?
.....I knew that pack weight would be an important consideration, as I am not the biggest and burliest ultradude around. (6'1", 145 lbs.) When I was acquiring my equipment before the trek started, I was trying to get the lightest weight items available. Unfortunately, all of those high-tech lightweight items added up to one helluva heavy pack. At the beginning of the trek, fully loaded with water, my pack weighed 25 kilos, or about 55 pounds. A lot of weight for this skinny lad! The pack, an Ultimate Direction Escape model, was fairly uncomfortable for the first 4 or 5 days, especially on my shoulders. After I tweaked and fiddled around with the adjustment straps on the pack, and my body "broke in" to the pack, it was actually quite comfortable. The fact that I was able to transport such a large amount of weight for so many days speaks for the good design of the pack, I think. I also jettisoned some things in the pack that I didn't think I would use. That helped a bit.
.....I was definitely unprepared for the severity of the terrain-much tougher and slower going than I had anticipated. There was a tremendous amount of vegetation, especially spinifex, (grassy clumps of spiny grass that would poke right through your pants) to bushwhack over, through and around. Also lots and lots of gullies to climb in and out of. Since there was so much sharp brush to go through, I had to wear long pants all of the time, and heavy nylon gaitors most of the time. Combining these two articles of clothing with the warm temperatures meant that I had a large amount of sweat dripping down my legs and into my boots. If you add together soaking wet feet and hiking around on very rugged and uneven terrain all day, you can imagine what happened to my feet! Blisters on my blisters on my blisters! Ugh. I went through three sets of skin on six of my toes, and one of them became badly infected. About the best thing I could do to try and alleviate the pain was wrap the toes in duct tape, this helped a little. By the end of the eighth day, blood was starting to show up in my urine. I was so exhausted, and my feet were so shredded, I decided that I had had enough. I had gone down to Australia to do this trek for the challenge and adventure, but I also wanted to enjoy at least some of it, and have some fun. Mostly what I was doing for trek days four through eight was suffering terribly and feeling miserable. The decision to put an end to my journey was not an easy one. I've been running and participating in athletic events for twenty years, and have *never ever* dropped out of one. If I dropped out, it would also mean quitting on a GLOBAL scale, as people around the world would see this wimpy American stopping because of some "measly blisters". I felt lower than low when I told my film crew that I couldn't go on. To a man, they were very understanding, and didn't give me a hard time with my decision. They saw how much I had been struggling the previous days. Since we were so far from the nearest town, they decided to stay the night by where I had stopped, by the side of a partially dried-up river, then we would drive back to town the next day.  

Lawman Jack
This river-pool had quite a few fish in it, (catfish and bream) and I was able to feast on quite a bit of the fishies that night. After a good nights sleep, and a dip in the river the next day, wouldn't you know it, I started to consider the notion of continuing on. (Typical knucklehead ultrarunner, eh?) The decision to quit was really gnawing away at me inside, and I figured that maybe I could go on just one or two more days. I also felt an obligation to my film crew for all of their support. We really became a close-knit group out there. So I adopted a "One day at a time" philosophy and would try to continue as long as I could, and we would see how much further that would get me. I had to try and heal up my feet, however! I ended up resting at that river for four days, eating plenty of fish, and drying out those blisters.

First opportunity to fish, Day # 4 - Rocket Hole Bore
During the "rest" days, the film crew still continued to transport me around the area in order to film me doing certain things out in the bush that I had previously done while they were not around to film. One memorable morning I was catapulted over the front end of our four wheel drive vehicle and nearly run over. I had been lying on top of the equipment rack that was mounted on top of the truck, and when we hit a very large bump, I went flying- bouncing off the corner of the windshield and sustaining a pretty nasty gash on my ass before landing head-first in a clump of spinifex. It hurt! After hobbling around in pain for a few seconds, and determining that nothing was broken, all I could do was laugh. What the hell else could happen to me?


Wiped out after a hot day in the bush

 

 

 
On day thirteen, I resumed my trek. Jack and Rudi were now almost 100k north and ahead of me. In the nearly two weeks that the trek had been going on, my film crew had been receiving information that the other two competitors were not exactly sticking to the pre-race rules. All three of us had had extremely difficult starts, and the producers of the film, in a panic and fearing that none of us would finish, decided to let Jack and Rudi both use vehicle tracks to walk on. This way, the footing was much easier, and they were able to cover much more mileage per day. Jack reportedly was doing most of his walking within 300 meters of the main highway that traveled northward to Wyndham, and somehow covering 10-15k's at night! (?) I was the only walker of the three that was sticking to the rules of traveling strictly overland. (And it was killing me and my feet!) The filmmakers, in an effort to equalize things a bit, said they wouldn't mind if I used some vehicle tracks if I came upon them. I finally came upon some tracks moving in my direction on the 15th day, and using them did help a little bit. Quite honestly, these vehicle tracks were very primitive and rugged, and most hadn't been used in almost 20 years. Sometimes I could see them, sometimes I couldn't. But at least there was a little less thrashing about through the brush. By now, Rudi was also having severe blister problems, and he had to stop for a few days to heal his feet. This adventure was taking it's toll on all of us. Starting the third week of the trek saw me move through the Purnululu National Park area, or as it is commonly called, the Bungle Bungles. The Bungles are a geological treasure of beautiful rounded rock towers, striped like tigers in alternate bands of orange (silica) and blackish-green (lichen). The whole Bungles massif is a plateau which is more than 200 meters above the surrounding plain and at its edges are the curious striped beehive domes, dozens of meters high. The whole Bungles area is considered an aboriginal sacred site, although you'd never know it, with all of the tourists crawling around. (The area was not "discovered" by tourists until filmed by a television crew in 1982.) Walking through some of the deep gorges in the Bungles was where I saw my only snakes on the trek, both Australian Death Adders. (Very deadly, and thankfully not interested in me...)


Walking up miles of dry creek bed in the Bungle Bungles...

.....
Winding my way through the Bungles, and now heading mainly northward towards Wyndham, I was starting to get into cattle country. I was able to start finding some good level cattle paths, and make good mileage during the long, hot days. Going into the large cattle station of Lissadell, I walked my longest day of the trek, 42 kilometers. I was inspired to get to Lissadell that day, because I knew that I would be fed there. One of the pre-race stipulations was that each of the competitors would be allowed one meal and a nights sleep at a location along their route. Lissadell station was to be my oasis! I arrived at dusk, dirty and smelly, looking haggard from the combined effects of heat, hunger, and effort. (Most of you ultrarunners will recognize that glazed eyes, hollow-cheeked look at the end of some hundred mile runs, I suspect.) After a shower, (Oooh!) I was treated to a feast of steaks, ribs and gobs of potatoes and veggies, washed down with copious quantities of milk and ice cream. (Ahhh!) I got to sleep in an actual bed with a soft pillow, (Heaven!) and I was asleep almost instantly when my head hit the pillow.

.....
After my all too brief encounter with civilization, I hit the trail the next day with renewed vigor and confidence that I could now make it all the way to Wyndham. Things were looking up. Most of my blisters were now finally forming into calluses, and I was starting to catch up to Jack and Rudi, latitude-wise. I figured I had about seven or eight more days of walking ahead of me until I reached Wyndham. Would I be able to catch them in that amount of time? There was only one more major obstacle between me and the finish, and that was traversing the Ragged Ranges, a range of hills and small jagged mountains and sandstone massifs that were extremely difficult to get through. The Ranges are very similar to the mountains in the Sedona and Grand Canyon areas of Arizona. It was through here that I actually had to do some rock climbing, as it was the only way to navigate to the river valley leading to Wyndham. Fortunately, I did not need any climbing equipment to get up and over the Ranges, just a lot of patience, resolve and luck. Some of those climbs were pretty hairy, as that sandstone rock tended to break away in my hands a disturbingly few too many times! Climbing over the Ranges was also really sapping my strength. The meal at Lissadell helped my energy stores a bit, but I was now running on fumes. I started experiencing blood in my urine again, and it was a major effort for me to do anything except walk. Lifting my pack, drawing water from a stream, or even getting out of my sleeping bag in the morning was exhausting. My planned 45 minute mid-day breaks were turning into 1 1/2 hour naps. I was definitely was not the strongest cat in the jungle at this point!


Resting outside of an ancient Aborigine cave - Ragged Ranges

 

 

.....I had started out the trek with a weeks worth of food, and had managed to stretch it almost all the way to the end. What I had brought with me was a sort of emergency rations kit called Mainstay, used by the Coast Guard. I had five 3,600 calorie blocks of this stuff, (1.5 lbs. each) one Power Bar, a few packets of beef jerky, beef bouillon cubes, some tea, and a small bag of dried fruit. The body can go a long way without food, but not without water. Finding water didn't prove to be a major difficulty, but I did run a bit short on the precious fluid a couple of times. (But not completely out.) The bush food I was able to find out in this dry land was: (Listed in order of highest calorie consumption.) Fish, (Catfish, Bream, Perch, and a single, huge, Barramundi) Boab nuts, (which kept me alive for most of the last 4 days) termites, (no taste, honest.) water lilies, bush tomatoes, bloodwood nuts, and bush coconuts. I figure during the last 5 days of the trek I was walking 8-10 hours a day on about 300-500 calories a day. I was one tired and hungry dude! Sixty kilometers from Wyndham I was walking through a valley cut into some hills about a kilometer from a highway. I thought I saw a yellow trashcan off in the distance towards the road, so I wandered over to it. It was a trashcan in a roadside picnic area, and after rooting around in the bottom of the can, I found a half a loaf of slightly moldy wheat bread. Gold, baby, gold!!! Nothing has ever tasted so good to me in my life! That 600 or so calories I got from that moldy bread that someone discarded was a lifesaver! It's amazing what had become important to me in my life at that point. My film crew asked me if I could relate to what hungry homeless people went through. I replied yes, perhaps a bit, except that after this trek was over, I had a home to go back to. Homeless folks don't have that. I truly am a lucky man.

Dave and his crew on the last day of the trek
  Now just two days walk from Wyndham, my crew told me that sometime in the last 48 hours, I had overtaken Jack for the lead of the race. His route and mine had converged the previous day, and now I was a short distance ahead. Rudi had fallen behind, as the toughest part of his route was in the latter stages of the trek. I couldn't believe I was in the lead! The competitive aspect of the race was never all that strong in me to begin with, however. Rudi and I had talked before the trek about how it would be great to be able to finish together, but we both acknowledged that it would be a very remote possibility of that happening, given the length of the trek, the severity of the terrain, etc. It would be highly unlikely that any of the competitors would approach the finish near each other. Also to be considered was the fact that the filmmakers wanted a real "competition", with an exciting race to the finish, to keep the viewers on the edge of their seats. Who will win?

.....
Jack Jugarre was now just behind me. He is a man of somewhere around 70 years of age, with failing eyesight. He walked this great distance over rugged terrain with very little food and water, with a new backpack that was uncomfortable on him, with thin leather shoes. (Even though he had some brand new boots that he kept in his pack and didn't use.) He used no maps, no compass, no fancy GPS, only his memory and instinct to guide him. He walked slowly and steadily, never really seeming to have any truly bad patches, although he did start to tire a bit near the end. He patiently endured the delays the filmmakers put him through, (as did we all) and maintained a great sense of dignity throughout the entire ordeal. And that old bugger led nearly three quarters of the race! Even though I was not able to personally witness it, I still consider it one of the most amazing personal and athletic achievements I have ever heard of. There was no way I wanted to "beat" this man, I had entirely too much respect for him. The fact that he was only a short distance behind me so close to the finish was too good to be true. I decided I would wait for him, and if possible, Rudi, at the outskirts of Wyndham. Then, if it was agreeable to them, we would finish together. This race meant much more to me than vanquishing my foes; for me it was struggle, introspection, revelation, transformation, resurrection, self-redemption, camaraderie. This may sound strange, but it was extremely important for me to NOT be the first over the finish line in Wyndham, I wanted to finish with my friends. I may never be able to fully explain my decision to anyone, I guess, but I'm at peace with it.

.....
I stopped at the bottom of a hill on the edge of some salt flats about 5km from the finish line in Wyndham to wait for Jack. I found out through the film crew that he was about 12km behind me, and would meet me the next morning. It would be good to see him. Rudi's progress through the rugged Chamberlain River valley had been drastically slowed by his film crew's struggling horse team. They probably cost him several days of walking time, so theoretically he would have been very close to finishing, also. The main director was not pleased by my and Jack's decision to finish together with Rudi. (Jack and I decided to wait for the crazy German.) He wanted a more exciting finish for the audience. He even went so far as to suggest that once Rudi arrived, we three would discuss amongst ourselves and "agree" to sprint for the finish in Wyndham. After I basically told him that it was a stupid idea and that the audience would never buy it, (I told him politely and diplomatically, of course! ;-) ) he resigned himself to the fact that we would finish together, and would film it as such.
 

The walkers and their crews on the salt flats outside of Wyndham

.....The next day, rather than have Jack and I wait for several days for Rudi to meet us, the filmmakers decided to go out and bring Rudi in to meet us on the edge of town, where we would walk in together. It was a heartfelt reunion, (caught on film, of course) and 26 days after the trek had started, we three scruffy guys crossed a makeshift finish line together in downtown Wyndham to the cheers of well, dozens, anyway. (Wyndham is one small town, bub.) I'm not going to say I cried, but I'm glad that I was wearing those sunglasses. (Look closely for the quivering lip, though, when you watch the film.) It was over, and we had all won.

 


Now that's a big Croc!
 

We made it!
.....I'm not sure if the viewing audience will feel cheated when they watch the documentary, a lot of people nowadays want a clear-cut winner, so the fact that we all finished together might come off as corny and trite.In my opinion, the filmmakers were able to beautifully convey the true difficulty of our struggles out in the wilderness, the sheer stupendous beauty of the landscape, the nature of sportsmanship and camaraderie that occurred. I've been lucky enough to do some pretty cool things in my life, and this adventure was one of the coolest. I've also been very lucky in that I received a lot of support going into the trek. Various equipment companies donated product to me. Thanks to Ultimate Direction Packs, (esp. fellow ultrarunner Dana Miller) Vasque Boots, Leki walking poles, Patagonia Clothing, Magellan GPS, Mainstay Emergency Rations from Survivor Industries, and Any Mountain Ltd.. .. I would also like to thank all of you out there who posted me with your comments, advice, support and best wishes. The e-mail I received from you all was much appreciated! Thanks also goes to my friends and family, and the Tamalpa Runners. And lastly, I'd like to THANK Michelle Holman who was the one posting the periodic updates on my trek progress to the Ultra list. Michelle was an unbelievable source of support. The documentary was completed by Australian producer Andrew Ogilvie in the early spring of 1997 and had it's premiere airing here in the United States in March 1997 on the TBS National Geographic Explorer Program. The hour-long film was truncated down to a 20 minute segment for the Explorer program, but the full-length version was shown at the Telluride Mountain Film Festival (I was the presenter-very cool!), and the Banff Mountain Film Festival, where the film won the People's Choice award. The short version still shows up every now and then on TV in re-runs on the Explorer program. I always know when it's airing, as I always get a spate of phone messages from friends and family letting me know that they're watching me on the tube! Too bad I don't get any royalties, eh? If anyone has any statistical or technoid type questions relating to the trek, please post them to me directly at: ultradavec@yahoo.com
..... Thanks again, and I'll see you on the trails! ...............Dave Covey



At trek's end - glad to be done...

Home | Back to Adventures Page