Appalachian State UniversityBooneGrandfather MountainGrandfather Mountain MarathonHighland GamesKing StreetNorth Carolina
Grandfather Mountain Marathon: Arriving in Boone
Before arriving in Boone on the late afternoon of the 13th, I realize I had been there a couple of times before, although merely for casual visits.
ASU (Appalachian State University) is Liebi's alma mater, for instance, so she obviously has a greater connection to the place than I do. From what I had seen of this place, I was impressed by this small but vivacious college town in the mountains.
The ride there is exactly what you'd expect – a long drive through wooded mountains, their stunning views omnipresent along the 221 Highway that I take into North Carolina. Boone is conveniently located near both the Virginia and Tennessee borders in the northeastern part of the state, and at a few points along the highway, you can see the Smokies beckoning from the distance. It is, by all accounts, a wonderful region in the United States.
Once in Boone, I continue to follow the directions on the paper I had printed out from Mapquest (they have rarely failed me) and find myself at The Rock, home to the Appalachian State Mountaineers, winner of multiple NCAA II football championships. Especially at home, the Mountaineers are known to be a force. That shouldn't be a surprise, as the visitors probably can't keep their eyes on the field, what with all the stunning mountains and forests surrounding them.
I locate the place inside the stadium and pick up my marathon packet that includes maps, my number to be pinned to my jersey (#236), the ticket for the shuttle back (that's right, the Marathon starts at the Rock but ends at Grandfather Marathon, very unusual), the commemorative jersey (it's a nice one), and the voucher to stay at one of the college's dorms.
Next, I locate the dorm further up the hill, which is a mere three hundred yards from the stadium. I check in and unload my backpack and various other personal items. The college dorm room is nothing spectacular, but orderly and clean, which is enough for me. I have a few hours left of sunlight, so I decide to hit the town and grab a pasta dinner where I can. This happens to be at Murphy's on West King Street, and although the food itself is not very good (I told them to go heavy on the noodles and light on the chicken – they don't), it's relaxing to have a dinner by myself while watching ESPN on one of their big screens.
Boone itself has a nice downtown with various little stores on King Street popping up left and right, some a little more highbrow than others. You know you're in a college town, in short, and I can already hear somebody playing the bagpipes down the road in anticipation of the Highland Games. I grab a Mountaineers cap at a souvenir store before I head back to the dorm.
At the dorm, I keep drinking fluids and read a book between shifts of sleep and trips to the bathroom. In all, I'm guessing I sleep about four hours, which should be more than enough for what lies ahead.
In the wee hours of the morning, the rain comes down hard in Boone, and although I don't mind the rain itself one bit, I hope for something less volatile in the morning, like maybe a drizzle. My sports gear is laid out well in advance, so now all that remains is the waiting game that seems to last forever, or at least until I find myself on the track at the Rock for the beginning of the run.
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