Mountain Man of Iron

Ona chilly December evening my teammate exploded into a high-speed snarl of broken ski equipment and ice. A few feet away in a low tuck at over 90 mph, I was lucky not to ski over him. Despite a valiant one-ski finish, a concussion forced him to stop competing after only 17 laps and five hours into the event. I continued skiing into the night alone.

Welcome to the 1998 Gulfstream 24 Hours of Aspen. Stretch downhill ski racing and endurance over a weekend and bring in former Olympians and World Cup racers, extreme skiers, and has-been college athletes like myself, and you have "the world's toughest ski race." The two members of each team ski together continuously for 24 hours, with only a 14-minute gondola ride to rest before the next two-and-half-minute, leg-burning run straight down Aspen Mountain's 3,267 vertical feet.

Why? Charity. This year the event raised $1.2 million for children with cancer and Colorado youth programs. By hour 12, my thoughts grew of joining my injured compadre. Then four children who are fighting cancer joined me on the gondola, encouraging me to finish. I agreed. Mysoreness seemed to be nothing compared to their tales of the pain of cancer and chemotherapy. Twelve hours later I finished with a time fast enough for fourth place—77 laps, 210 miles or 2 31,000 vertical feet. I reminded one of my new friends of our late-night gondola pact. "No problem," she had said. "Ifyou finish, I'll get healthy."