Race Recap – Chattooga Belle

Only two weeks after the Never Forget 5-K, Martha found our next race, the Chattooga Belle Farm Wine Run 5-K, and it sounded just perfect for our second race since an 18-month-long hiatus due to Covid.  It was to be held in Long Creek, South Carolina, a 45-minute drive on quiet two-lane roads at an orchard and vineyard which we had probably driven past over the years but never visited.  It was billed as a cross country race, and each adult participant was to receive a wine glass at the finish line.

Wikipedia defines cross country as “a sport in which teams and individuals run a race on open-air courses over natural terrain such as dirt or grass. Sometimes the runners are referred to as harriers. The course, typically 4–12 kilometers long, may include surfaces of grass and earth, pass through woodlands and open country, and include hills, flat ground, and sometimes gravel roads.”

The only thing close to a cross country race I remember running was way back in 2003, and I delved into my race book to help me remember it.  It was the Black Mountain Valentines Day 5-K which I ran with my daughter Katy and another friend from Highlands.  Katy and I had signed up in the Father-Daughter category in what was billed as a “Sweetheart Race,” but while my book recorded my time (24:27 – gosh, I was fast back then!) it did not record how we did in the category.  My race book noted:  “Tough course – snow, mud, grass, trails, hills, steps, etc.  A good day!” 

A good day!  While we did not expect snow, all of the other features I wrote about in 2003 were possibilities this morning.  We arrived early at the Farm, which was situated on a knoll surrounded by rolling countryside with acres of apple and peach trees and a small vineyard.  Its use as a wedding venue was apparent from the rose petals we noted on the grass near the start.  

The starting line was just behind the main building, which contained a store selling T-shirts, apples, beverages (including cold beer), and take-out food from a little on-site bistro.  Scattered out in the fields, we would soon come upon these sort of baskets made out of metal chains and mounted on posts, and we later realized that this was a disc golf course, and very likely the reason this “Farm” in the middle of South Carolina countryside could be dispensing beer and wine on a Sunday morning – as in North Carolina, that would make it a “sports club,” thereby evading the ABC laws.

The start was to be a staggered one, and the time we had signed up for was 10:00, but when we approached the inflated balloon-like arch of the starting line around 9:30, we were casually told that we could begin anytime we liked, so the two of us crossed the mat and began running.

Martha went out ahead, while I began navigating the first part of the course, a steep descent on which I was focused mostly on not falling down, let alone running competitively.

I saw up ahead that Martha had stopped to walk, too, and in only a short while, it became obvious to both of these "harriers" that running, as we like to think of it, would be a foolish thing to do.  The terrain consisted of all of the features of that race I ran in 2003, except that the wet grass had not been mowed, the hills were so steep and uneven that I was forced to pick my way gingerly down them at a walk, and at one point we even found ourselves descending into the woods and crossing this little bridge. 

We wisely decided to walk most of the course, as most of the other participants were doing, and the experience turned into a good one as we simply enjoyed this beautiful morning, winding through apple orchards, past some primitive camping sites (where we no doubt surprised some sleepy Sunday morning campers), and up and down the truly daunting terrain.  Climbing to the start-finish balloon, we had spectacular views out across open fields and woodlands to distant blue mountains all around.  We did a second lap around the course and were glad to cross the finish line, hand in hand.

We did, indeed, receive two very nice stemless wine glasses, and I even went over and had a small amount of Chardonnay poured into mine.  Then we ordered delicious sandwiches and cold beer from the bistro and sat out at a little table enjoying the morning and taking in the view out over the orchard, happy with the slowest finish time either of us have ever recorded in a 5-K “race,” which I shall neglect to record in this blog.