With Mike Long at the helm (right), Crystal Allbright plays accordion while riding to the starting line in the Ghost Town.

by Marlys Hersey

Started sometime in the past few decades, the “Run for Stupidity,” (better known as “the Stupid Race”) lures the fit and the un-fit onto a 12-mile-or-so course through the heart of Terlingua: up hills, over cliffs, down pouroffs, through washes, across sand and gravel and salt pan and dog cholla. For fun. Though the course changes every year, the event has some consistency: it happens the first Sunday in December, most riders and runners are in some sort of costume, and invariably you feel stupid for doing it – usually many times during the slog. This year’s deal was no exception.


Billy Miller bombs down a pouroff.


Riders may spend almost as much time carrying their bikes as riding them. It’s a hard course. This year, it took me about 4 hours to make it the 11+ miles.


Rebecca Evans in a very narrow arroyo (“Pizza Canyon”) near Long Draw.


Riders enjoy a beer break in Sawmill Canyon while watching others make it down the pouroff.


Stupid Race founder and coursemeister Richard Sharpe negotiates another spate of slickrock. “You know what I’m proud of?” said Sharpe. “That there are actually still behind people behind us.”


Sandi Turvan and Patrick Harris arrive at the finish line. (Crystal Allbright)