The Great Nebraska Walk
July 18th, 2020
The ultramarathon you've never heard of
The pre-ramble
Sometimes a challenge comes along, and you wonder- what would possess a man to do such a thing? I'm not entirely sure. Why climb a mountain? Why float down a river? Why lift iron plates? Why walk to Nebraska?I think JFK said it best:
“We choose to go to (Nebraska) ... not because it is easy, but because it is hard. Because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win...”
Okay, maybe that's a bit of a stretch. The great Nebraska walk was an idea born from a family living in Cheyenne, WY in the 1990s. Having no car and very little money, the boys walked all over town. One day, one of them questioned- could we walk all the way to Nebraska? It's a route they knew well. Nathan, the oldest, was going to school at Immanuel Lutheran High school, some 900 miles away in Wisconsin. I'm sure the Greve family drove through Nebraska dozens of times.
And there's something else about them. They are warriors and competitors. Brothers can be like this, trying to outdo each other, to measure their worth as a man. And so the first attempt was made- and none of them made it. Lesser men might shrug their shoulders and give up on the idea, but not the Greves. In the next several years, attempts at completing this journey were made. And finally, in 1998- Joel, the middle child, made it. Joel is not a super athlete; some Greek god of endurance sports. Joel is a man who has a certain toughness and stubbornness about him. In 1998 Joel refused to let his body quit, and willed himself to the Nebraska border.
In 2014 Nathan Greve became the second human to complete this task.
 |
| Photo courtesy of Nathan Greve |
A challenger appears
Where do I fit in? This is clearly further than I've ever gone before in a single day. Last year (2019), I competed in the Bataan Memorial Death March in White Sands, NM. I completed this full marathon-length race with a 35lb rucksack in 5 hours and 40 minutes. But this... this is a different beast. I guess knowing that the challenge existed, and was completed by my friends, was enough for me to gain interest. |
| Somewhere around mile 20 of Bataan |
There are no hills of significance to climb on this route. There are no real navigational challenges. The only obstacles you must deal with are the long distance, the sometimes fierce wind, and the blazing sun. Yes, the temperatures often reach over 90 degrees in the summer months, and there is not a lick of shade to be found on the route. Sustained UV exposure should not be ignored. The lack of shade led to the scenario where I huddled next to a bush for my final break, sitting on the hardest dirt known to man, in some farmer's ditch.
Humans are not made to travel this distance- especially not humans as heavy as myself. Sure, you can go 15 or 20 miles, no problem. But 40 miles presents a whole new challenge. You inevitably find yourself shuffling along, feet covered in blisters, knowing you can't stop. You can't stop because if you do, you may mentally shut down and not finish.
Preparation is key
40 miles is a long way, but the challenge is increased by racing the clock. You have 1 calendar day to complete this challenge, but the faster the better. Joel Greve finished first in 14:47, Nathan Greve took just over 17 hours to finish. He recalls that the last handful of miles were increasingly slow.
How did I prepare? Not in an ideal way. I had been walking almost every day for the last 4 months. Walking in the morning. Walking wherever. Over 100 miles a month. One week prior, I walked 20 miles in 5 hours to get to my friend's house across town, and back, with no support. But again, 40 miles is a much different beast.
So how did it all go down? To be honest, I wasn't sure it was going to happen, until the day before. You see, the week leading up to the walk, I was worried I might have contracted Coronavirus, and I was sore from walking 20 miles. Surely, if 20 miles was challenging, 40 miles was going to be difficult. And if I had coronavirus, it wouldn't be smart to walk continuously for 11 hours.
So the night before, I played with my kids after dinner, and then drove up to Cheyenne. I checked into the cheapest hotel I could find, and quickly drifted off to sleep at 930pm.
How did I prepare? Not in an ideal way. I had been walking almost every day for the last 4 months. Walking in the morning. Walking wherever. Over 100 miles a month. One week prior, I walked 20 miles in 5 hours to get to my friend's house across town, and back, with no support. But again, 40 miles is a much different beast.
 |
| One week before showtime, training |
So how did it all go down? To be honest, I wasn't sure it was going to happen, until the day before. You see, the week leading up to the walk, I was worried I might have contracted Coronavirus, and I was sore from walking 20 miles. Surely, if 20 miles was challenging, 40 miles was going to be difficult. And if I had coronavirus, it wouldn't be smart to walk continuously for 11 hours.
So the night before, I played with my kids after dinner, and then drove up to Cheyenne. I checked into the cheapest hotel I could find, and quickly drifted off to sleep at 930pm.
And Now it Begins
At 255 am, I woke up on my own. Seeing the time, I knew it was time to go. I choked down a banana and a granola bar, filled up my water bladder, and left the hotel in total darkness.
This is the starting point
At 330, I pulled up to the starting point. I checked over my gear, took a picture, started the GPS, and set off five minutes later. I was a man on a mission. This first hour was frankly a little weird. Here I was, a visitor, stomping through the streets of a city I've rarely been to, at an hour that made no sense for a rational mind. I finally made it to the highway, and remember climbing the slight hill on Pershing/HWY 30 as Venus shone brightly in the sky. Soon the city started to give way to more rural settings. At first, cars were rushing by me with only a foot to spare, but that changed. As I made my way into the country, people would pull completely into the other lane to pass me. Such a thoughtful gesture; no one wants to be hit by a truck going 60 miles an hour. In hindsight, starting early in Cheyenne is probably a good idea, because traffic is a real concern for the first 8 or so miles.
And the sun was coming up quickly. I had a vague sense of dread that this calm, cool morning would soon give way to a scorching day. The orb that would torment me as I was bombarded with photons from a star some 91.4 million miles away. As I neared the Sapp Brothers truck stop, I had a brief moment of awesome wonder as I saw the majestic sunrise glinting off the polished steel rails of the train tracks below me.
My forward motion was almost mechanical. Stride stride stride. Drink water or Gatorade. I periodically checked my GPS program, noting that after a slow start, I was moving ahead of my pace, gobbling up the miles like a steam train. I was filled with vigor and energy when I reached the TA Travel Center at 15 miles. Knowing that Antelope was ahead, I skipped the first stop and continued the journey. I figured, the 10 minutes saved would help me later. In hindsight, I'm not entirely sure.
I could feel the powerful rays of the sun slicing through the dry clear air, and attempted to shield my face for a couple hours. Prolonged exposure to sun and wind could lead to disaster later.
For the next nine miles, I was filled with excitement. I knew that I was coming close to being halfway done. Just over the next hill has to be Antelope, right? No, not yet. How about this hill?Not yet. There were gently rolling hills in this section.
 |
| The starting point is the old Greve house in Cheyenne, WY |
At 330, I pulled up to the starting point. I checked over my gear, took a picture, started the GPS, and set off five minutes later. I was a man on a mission. This first hour was frankly a little weird. Here I was, a visitor, stomping through the streets of a city I've rarely been to, at an hour that made no sense for a rational mind. I finally made it to the highway, and remember climbing the slight hill on Pershing/HWY 30 as Venus shone brightly in the sky. Soon the city started to give way to more rural settings. At first, cars were rushing by me with only a foot to spare, but that changed. As I made my way into the country, people would pull completely into the other lane to pass me. Such a thoughtful gesture; no one wants to be hit by a truck going 60 miles an hour. In hindsight, starting early in Cheyenne is probably a good idea, because traffic is a real concern for the first 8 or so miles.
 |
| For the first time, we can see the sun |
And the sun was coming up quickly. I had a vague sense of dread that this calm, cool morning would soon give way to a scorching day. The orb that would torment me as I was bombarded with photons from a star some 91.4 million miles away. As I neared the Sapp Brothers truck stop, I had a brief moment of awesome wonder as I saw the majestic sunrise glinting off the polished steel rails of the train tracks below me.
 |
| Sun reflecting on the train tracks |
 |
| The morning sun blasts you in the face |
I could feel the powerful rays of the sun slicing through the dry clear air, and attempted to shield my face for a couple hours. Prolonged exposure to sun and wind could lead to disaster later.
 |
| Trying to keep the sun off me for as long as possible |
 |
| There's not a lot to get excited about at this point |
Resupply Point Bravo
And I found it, right at 24 miles (Google maps says 23.2). I was completely out of the water by that time, and I was more than happy to find this "oasis" on the prairie. After grabbing a quick restroom break, I grabbed some supplies. 3 liters of water, 2 quarts of Gatorade- all ice cold.
I sat down in the shade next to a dumpster and gingerly removed my shoes. It was worse than I thought. Already, blisters were forming on both of my heels. My toes were blistered as well. My socks were soaked with sweat. In hindsight, this was a warning sign. I quickly threw a moleskin "donut" around my blister, changed my socks, and put my shoes back on. After a few more adjustments, I was on my way. A bit of doubt had crept into my mind.
Just after Antelope, I departed the well-worn path and things took a turn for the uncertain. A mile north on a small country road, and then I came to a decision point. The road I had planned to take had a sign- Road Closed, and No Trespassing. I respect private property, but I had committed to this route. I pressed on, with more uncertainly creeping into my mind. It's too late to turn back.
About two miles down this road, I could see a barricade in the distance. As I got closer, I felt concerned. As I got closer, I saw a truck driving behind the barricade. Okay, this might work. The whole time, I was thinking some Wyoming rancher or sheriff's deputy was going to come out and turn me around which I could not survive.
And then I saw a harvesting truck, ready to pick up a load of wheat from the combine busy in the field. I imagined some burly-looking dude stepping out of the cab and screaming at me. He could see me coming, literally, from a mile away. When I finally got close, he looked down at his phone as I walked by. He couldn't care less about my presence in that desolate place.
Relief is what I felt, and I knew that I was on my way to the finish line. But the fun wasn't over yet. Little did I know that the next stretch of road would present the toughest challenge.
After turning East, you have just 12 miles to go. It doesn't sound like much, but that's 3 hours of walking at a brisk pace as your body contemplates shutting down. After a couple miles, you can see the bluffs on the horizon. This is both a blessing and a curse. You can see the goal, but it is so far away. And it takes a couple hours to get close to it.
The sun was brutal at this point, and I was really wishing for shade. Around mile 34, I took my last break, huddled beneath some stunted trees in a dry ditch.
Here is the location: Google maps link
At this point my legs felt swollen and heavy, my feet felt battered, and I was working through my water quickly. It's a mental game. I felt like my legs were melting into the ground. I think I sat down for 4-5 minutes, and I may have eaten a snack - I'm not sure. But then I got up and continued.
There is a "shortcut" where you walk through a field and cross the train tracks to connect highway 212. This shortcut saves you about half a mile, but you can get stickers in your shoes and socks. Here is a crudely drawn MS Paint diagram:
The next two hours were a real grind. Somewhere between a zombie-like state of unrelenting movement and self-loathing buoyed by raw determination. I can't sugar-coat this, it wasn't a ton of fun at this point.
 |
| Antelope Bar/Package Liquor/ Gas Station / Aid Station |
Just after Antelope, I departed the well-worn path and things took a turn for the uncertain. A mile north on a small country road, and then I came to a decision point. The road I had planned to take had a sign- Road Closed, and No Trespassing. I respect private property, but I had committed to this route. I pressed on, with more uncertainly creeping into my mind. It's too late to turn back.
 |
| Turning North just after Antelope onto HWY 213 |
About two miles down this road, I could see a barricade in the distance. As I got closer, I felt concerned. As I got closer, I saw a truck driving behind the barricade. Okay, this might work. The whole time, I was thinking some Wyoming rancher or sheriff's deputy was going to come out and turn me around which I could not survive.
I don't think you ever want to see this - at the beginning of HWY 212
Relief is what I felt, and I knew that I was on my way to the finish line. But the fun wasn't over yet. Little did I know that the next stretch of road would present the toughest challenge.
 |
| I enjoyed passing by Flying G Performance Horses Google Maps Link |
After turning East, you have just 12 miles to go. It doesn't sound like much, but that's 3 hours of walking at a brisk pace as your body contemplates shutting down. After a couple miles, you can see the bluffs on the horizon. This is both a blessing and a curse. You can see the goal, but it is so far away. And it takes a couple hours to get close to it.
The sun was brutal at this point, and I was really wishing for shade. Around mile 34, I took my last break, huddled beneath some stunted trees in a dry ditch.
Here is the location: Google maps link
At this point my legs felt swollen and heavy, my feet felt battered, and I was working through my water quickly. It's a mental game. I felt like my legs were melting into the ground. I think I sat down for 4-5 minutes, and I may have eaten a snack - I'm not sure. But then I got up and continued.
There is a "shortcut" where you walk through a field and cross the train tracks to connect highway 212. This shortcut saves you about half a mile, but you can get stickers in your shoes and socks. Here is a crudely drawn MS Paint diagram:
 |
| Shortcut near the town of Egbert |
 |
| From this point, you are exactly 3.1 miles / 5 km from the finish |
I think the advantage of this route is the hardest part (the end) offers salvation in sight. About 3 miles from the finish, you start to see buildings and the bluffs loom larger on the horizon. Hope seeps into your brain.
Unfortunately, I began to run out of water. With 2 miles to go, I was completely depleted of hydration. I was dealing with conflicting thoughts. Press on to the finish to finish in under 11 hours, or stop somewhere and get some water before the finish. By the time I reached a convenient place to purchase hydration, I figured I was only a mile from the finish line. There is a Dollar General about 1.3 miles from the Nebraska border. I did not stop, continuing to press on.
Unfortunately, I began to run out of water. With 2 miles to go, I was completely depleted of hydration. I was dealing with conflicting thoughts. Press on to the finish to finish in under 11 hours, or stop somewhere and get some water before the finish. By the time I reached a convenient place to purchase hydration, I figured I was only a mile from the finish line. There is a Dollar General about 1.3 miles from the Nebraska border. I did not stop, continuing to press on.
Finally, it ends
The walk through Pine bluffs, WY is slightly depressing and slightly uphill. You navigate a gentle right curve as you pass through town on HWY 30 / Lincoln Highway. When you see an RV park to your right (south) you know that you're almost there.
The true border is a derelict service station. It's a really cool piece of history with an iconic image. However, you have to travel a bit further (500 feet) to make it official by reaching the "NEBRASKA ...the good life" sign. I wish I could say I sprinted with great speed to the finish, but limping would be more accurate. I completed the journey in 10 hours 58 minutes; a new course record.
A wonderful Mayhew picked me up at the border. I don't remember if I rode in a car back 500 feet, or if I walked. But we went back to the service station at the actual border for this iconic image.
After hopping back in the air-conditioned car, we drove into town and I immensely enjoyed a large root beer float from the A&W that has since closed! After that, it was very relaxing to ride back to Cheyenne in just over 30 minutes, and I was back to my car.
Ideally, you'd rest for a few days, but I did not have that option. I was in the middle of my "walking streak" thus I had to walk at least two miles every day. Looking at my records, I didn't walk over three miles for the first week after. I do remember limping around for a little while. Here's my heel after 9 days.
However, the body heals and after two weeks I was pretty much back to normal. (except for my feet). Would I attempt this journey again? Maybe. It might be nice to do it with cooler temps, but then you have to deal with higher winds.
The true border is a derelict service station. It's a really cool piece of history with an iconic image. However, you have to travel a bit further (500 feet) to make it official by reaching the "NEBRASKA ...the good life" sign. I wish I could say I sprinted with great speed to the finish, but limping would be more accurate. I completed the journey in 10 hours 58 minutes; a new course record.
.jpg) |
| And THIS is the end, my friends |
A wonderful Mayhew picked me up at the border. I don't remember if I rode in a car back 500 feet, or if I walked. But we went back to the service station at the actual border for this iconic image.
 |
| I do not appear to be in peak physical form! |
After hopping back in the air-conditioned car, we drove into town and I immensely enjoyed a large root beer float from the A&W that has since closed! After that, it was very relaxing to ride back to Cheyenne in just over 30 minutes, and I was back to my car.
The Aftermath
Doing something like this puts a strain on your body, much like running a marathon. The greatest injury I sustained was to my feet. I was also pretty sore from the waist down. Here's a picture of my feet two days later. It also appears my ankles were a little swollen. |
| Left foot |
 |
| Right heel |
Ideally, you'd rest for a few days, but I did not have that option. I was in the middle of my "walking streak" thus I had to walk at least two miles every day. Looking at my records, I didn't walk over three miles for the first week after. I do remember limping around for a little while. Here's my heel after 9 days.
 |
| Still not in great shape with large chunks of skin flaking off |
Postscript
Jonathan Greve completed the GNW on October 5th, 2021, becoming the 4th human to accomplish this task. To the best of our records, here is the information on all known finishers.
Youngest finisher: Joel Greve
Oldest finisher: Jon Greve
First Finisher: Joel Greve
Fastest Finisher: Dan Kesterson
If you endeavor to complete this mission, here are the agreed-upon rules. Note that you cannot do "less" than previous finishers and claim to "beat" them.
 |
| *Approximate date |
Oldest finisher: Jon Greve
First Finisher: Joel Greve
Fastest Finisher: Dan Kesterson
If you endeavor to complete this mission, here are the agreed-upon rules. Note that you cannot do "less" than previous finishers and claim to "beat" them.
GNW RULES
- You must start at the official starting point
- You must end at the official endpoint (clock stops)
- You must complete the walk in one calendar day
- You may not move using any mechanical means (bike, skateboard, rollerblades, etc)
- You may use any route between these two points to complete the walk
- You may use any means to travel after the endpoint is reached
- Equipment /item stashes are allowed but were not used by most
- You must not litter, but you can discard trash in appropriate receptacles at TA Travel Center or Antelope
Recommended Equipment
- Running shoes that are broken-in
- At least 2 pairs of merino wool socks
- Medical tape and moleskin
- Chapstick
- Sunscreen
- Hat and Sunglasses
- Water AND Gatorade
- light jacket for early morning walking
- Phone for navigation, tracking, photos, and communication
- Headphones or earbuds
- External phone battery and cable (11-15 hours is a long time)
- 4-6 small snacks
This is a great narrative of your adventure.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
DeleteThanks for the kind words for me and my brothers. And reminding me of the great adventure.
ReplyDeleteToughness is in your DNA! This is a trait that not everyone posseses.
Delete