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Griffith today
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A race which lives large in my memory, and probably in the memory of many 1970/80s runners, was the Bacchus 12000, a 12km race held at
Griffith in the NSW Riverina every Easter. Griffith is in the centre of a wine-growing area, and in those days, marijuana growing and organised crime as well. Local identity and anti-drugs campaigner,
Donald Mackay, disappeared in May 1977 from Griffith and his body has never been found. One of my memories from the time is of vast vineyards with long driveways and Italianate mansions. It was definitely a place of the 1970s.
Runners travelled from the cities of Melbourne and Sydney for the race because of the valuable prizes offered, generally airfares to the US. Many camped at a local recreation ground designated for the purpose, and I can remember a youthful student,
Rob De Castella, camping there having driven up in his old Peugeot. Race day itself always seemed very hot and dry and the course included exposed gravel roads and a tough climb. The field was always very high quality and would have done justice to any Australian distance-running championship. I don't remember ever doing very well there.
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The Kew Camberwell Athletic Club encampment at
Griffith prior to the 1979 Bacchus 12000
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The first year we went, the post-race function was held in a winery and turned into a sort of Bacchanalian Feast, which didn't do much credit to the running fraternity. In subsequent years, the organisers wisely held the function outdoors at the race finish, although that still ran some risks. All finishers received a bottle of local specially-labelled port, and one year my club had a special event which was won by whoever was the first to finish their bottle of port (and keep it down for an hour) after running the race. I'm a non-drinker, so didn't participate, but recall my brother came second.
My club, Kew Camberwell, usually had a large contingent of runners and partners attending, and apart from some running and the race itself, we spent our time playing pick-up cricket and soccer matches on the recreation field where we were camped, visiting wineries and patronising the local clubs. I remember one hard-fought soccer match, played the day before the race, resulting in one of our best runners dislocating his shoulder after a rough tackle. To the amazement of our colleagues from the Glenhuntly running club, camped nearby, we continued with our game after arranging for one of the girls to take the injured runner to the local hospital.
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The victorious team, after a Kew Camberwell intra-club
pick-up cricket match at Griffith just prior to the 1979
Bacchus 12000
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Another often-told story related to a year when the prize of a US return airfare was to be a lottery drawn from the first ten finishers in the race. It was a very hot year, and one of our best runners was coming 10th as the race passed through some suburban streets approaching the finish. Another member of our club was a little way behind in 11th place and noticed his club-mate ahead begin weaving all over the road before collapsing unconscious in the gutter with heat exhaustion. The trailing runner had to make a quick decision about whether to stop and attend to his fallen friend, or continue on, now in 10th place, to the finish. He chose the latter, but sadly didn't win the prize draw. We all visited our dehydrated and heat-affected club-mate in hospital later, where he was kept overnight, but not until the post-race celebrations were over. Those were the days.
For my exercise today, I just walked 5km as planned. My joints were a bit stiff and sore after yesterday's long run, but I didn't feel very tired, which is a good sign. The only visible cloud on the horizon before next Sunday's Melbourne Marathon, is that Sharon has a bad chest and sinus infection, and is being treated with antibiotics. Selfishly, I hope it's not contagious.
