Crazy enough for a 24/7 city: An all-night run to Vegas

By Ron Kantowski (contact)

Monday, June 29, 2009 | 2 a.m.

Ragnar Lodbrok of Scandinavia was a pirate and a raider. One of his favorite pastimes was to attack Christian cities on holy days, because he knew a lot of the Christian soldiers would be in church. Alas, after being shipwrecked off the English coast in 865, he was captured by Aella, the Saxon king, and put to death by being thrown into a pit of poisonous vipers.

Ernest Borgnine played Ragnar in the 1958 movie “The Vikings.” In terms of famous Vikings, Ragnar probably ranks somewhere between Leif Ericsson and Fran Tarkenton. I’d put him about even with Olav the Stout and Chuck Foreman, who, although never a Raider, once was thrown into a pit of them at the Oakland Coliseum.

Ragnar Lodbrok, legendary Norseman often-described as a 9th century “wild man,” is the guy for whom the Ragnar Relay Series is named. The Ragnar Relay Series is made up of 11 foot races of about 180 miles each, in which teams of 12 runners stay up all night and run, for lack of a better description.

The inaugural Las Vegas relay will be held Oct. 9 and 10 from the Valley of Fire to Red Rock Resort. That will give these relay maniacs — their word, not mine — sufficient time to train. It also will give them sufficient time to paint a team bus in the Partridge Family colors, which, according to the organizers, some are wont to do.

As far as I can tell, there will be no raiding or pillaging, or a pit filled with poisonous snakes at the end. But there will be a big tent with beer in it at the end, says Tanner Bell, who along with his pal and fellow BYU grad Dan Hill and Dan’s dad, Steve, staged the first Ragnar Relay in 2004. I asked Bell if this is what happens when a runner’s high is combined with too much Red Bull and he said, yeah, pretty much.

“It’s sort of like Bay to Breakers meets Primal Quest,” said Bell, channeling opposite ends of the spectrum events in which competitors traditionally run in costumes — or, in some cases, nothing at all — or run for 10 days over forlorn terrain with the help of a GPS monitoring device. “It’s designed for the everyday man. It’s an adventure relay. A lot of the teams have decorative vans and wacky team names.”

Bell says about 10 percent of the runners who enter fall into the “really want to win” category. The other 90 percent just want to have a good time and avoid the pit of poisonous vipers.

The first Ragnar Relay event, the Wasatch Back Relay, contested over the Utah hinterlands, attracted just 22 teams in 2006. This month nearly 800 showed up, as the Wasatch Relay has quickly turned into the biggest event of its kind. It also has spawned sister events — although “crazy uncle” events might be a better description for them — in Arizona, Connecticut-Massachusetts, Florida, New York, Southern California, Texas, Washington state, Washington, D.C., Wisconsin-Minnesota (lot of Vikings up there) and, now, Las Vegas.

Bell said most first-time Ragnar races attract 50 to 80 teams. He expects Ragnar Relay Las Vegas will draw double that in the first year. Local maniacs — my word, not theirs — can sign up by visiting the Web site (ragnarrelay.com). In addition to the registration form, the Web site contains all the information you will need to become a successful Ragnar power painter — er, runner — including a training schedule and what to do in the event you fall into a pit of poisonous vipers.

A personable maniac named Ken Jacquin, who is helping coordinate the Las Vegas race, says there has been talk about combining the Utah and Las Vegas races into a separate entity or championship.

“People who go to both races would be called ‘Saints and Sinners,’ ” he said.

I like it. I know my Viking helmet and snakebite kit must be around here somewhere.