Racers, Burros Run 21 Mile ‘Rocky’ Course
Description
By Ronda Scholting
August 13, 2008
LEADVILLE, Colo. -- When you mention the Triple Crown, most people think of the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness and Belmont. In Colorado, the Triple Crown is the Triple Crown of pack burro racing, and the racing courses in the towns of Fairplay, Leadville and Buena Vista.
2008 is the 60th year for pack burro racing, a sport known really only in the state’s small mountain towns, where it borrows from local history.
In the last two decades of the 1800’s, gold and silver strikes in Colorado drew thousands of folks who were hoping to make their fortune. Many miners used burros or donkeys to help haul supplies into rough terrain. For some, their four legged helper might have been their only companion.
“Often, two or three guys would stake the same claim”, says David TenEyck, this year’s Leadville race coordinator, and member of the Pack Burro Racing Association. “And whoever was able to get to town first to record that claim, got it. So they had to rely on their burro to haul the gold or silver, and get them there.”
In the modern day pack burro races, the burros carry a pack that weighs 33 pounds, and is loaded with a pick, a shovel, and a gold pan.
The packs also carry water and food for the human member of the racing team, and are carefully weighed before the race. It’s just that little extra bit of realism the competitors enjoy.
“These guys are living symbols of the Old West,” says Curtis Imrie, a pack burro racer for more than 30 years.
Of course, donkeys and stubborn are two words that often go hand in hand. But don’t tell that to a pack burro racer.
“Very cautious, not stubborn,” says Imrie. “Me and my animals are misunderstood. We’re not stubborn, just cautious.”
And it’s that cautious nature that often leads to a wild and woolly race. In the Leadville event two years ago, one donkey decided to hop up on the sidewalk, run into the crowd, and then trot into one of the town’s local bars.
“No one really thought it was all that out of the ordinary” says TenEyck, who was the human half of the team that year. “Once I got him stopped, we turned around, and got back in the race.”
More often, the burros just weave from one side of the street to the other, and sometimes completely turn around, and go in the wrong direction. The spectators who line the streets each year know that they need to keep one eye on the race, and the other on an escape route.
“Burros have a mind of their own,” says Keith Moffett, who was sitting on Leadville’s 5th street this year. “They’ll go where they want to go, they’re in charge, so you just stay out of the way.”
Burros have been known to run five or six minute miles, but only if they want to. The Leadville course is 21 miles long for the Open race, and 15 miles for the women’s race.
The teams climb over a mountain pass, gaining 4,000 feet in altitude on bumpy dirt roads. The rules for all the races in the Triple Crown: you can’t ride your burro, but you can push, pull, drag, bribe, and beg to get them to keep moving.
“There’s no danger of abusing the animal,” says TenEyck. “If they don’t want to do it, they won’t go.”
That’s never happened to Barb Dolan, and her burro, Dakota. Dolan has won the Triple Crown 10 years in a row. Those victories have not always been with Dakota, but when he is racing, he doesn’t quit.
“I don’t know, it’s a crazy sport,” says Dolan. “I just love these animals. I can’t explain it, you just get hooked.”
The training for these events is really year round. Donkey owners have to work hard to overcome their animals’ cautious (not stubborn) personality, where instinct makes them pretty much afraid of anything new and different.
“Cracks in the street, manhole covers. Those orange traffic cones, in their minds, are lethal,” says TenEyck.
That’s why animals and humans have to learn to trust each other. In pack burro events, the race very rarely goes to the fastest runner. The winner is the ream that reaches an understanding.
“I can tell you what they’re thinking by watching their ears and their eyes,” says Imrie. “That’s where all their expression is.”
Since this story was filed, Barb Dolan and Dakota won their 11th Triple Crown title this past weekend. For more information on pack burro racing, visit PackBurroRacing.com.
August 13, 2008
LEADVILLE, Colo. -- When you mention the Triple Crown, most people think of the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness and Belmont. In Colorado, the Triple Crown is the Triple Crown of pack burro racing, and the racing courses in the towns of Fairplay, Leadville and Buena Vista.
2008 is the 60th year for pack burro racing, a sport known really only in the state’s small mountain towns, where it borrows from local history.
In the last two decades of the 1800’s, gold and silver strikes in Colorado drew thousands of folks who were hoping to make their fortune. Many miners used burros or donkeys to help haul supplies into rough terrain. For some, their four legged helper might have been their only companion.
“Often, two or three guys would stake the same claim”, says David TenEyck, this year’s Leadville race coordinator, and member of the Pack Burro Racing Association. “And whoever was able to get to town first to record that claim, got it. So they had to rely on their burro to haul the gold or silver, and get them there.”
In the modern day pack burro races, the burros carry a pack that weighs 33 pounds, and is loaded with a pick, a shovel, and a gold pan.
The packs also carry water and food for the human member of the racing team, and are carefully weighed before the race. It’s just that little extra bit of realism the competitors enjoy.
“These guys are living symbols of the Old West,” says Curtis Imrie, a pack burro racer for more than 30 years.
Of course, donkeys and stubborn are two words that often go hand in hand. But don’t tell that to a pack burro racer.
“Very cautious, not stubborn,” says Imrie. “Me and my animals are misunderstood. We’re not stubborn, just cautious.”
And it’s that cautious nature that often leads to a wild and woolly race. In the Leadville event two years ago, one donkey decided to hop up on the sidewalk, run into the crowd, and then trot into one of the town’s local bars.
“No one really thought it was all that out of the ordinary” says TenEyck, who was the human half of the team that year. “Once I got him stopped, we turned around, and got back in the race.”
More often, the burros just weave from one side of the street to the other, and sometimes completely turn around, and go in the wrong direction. The spectators who line the streets each year know that they need to keep one eye on the race, and the other on an escape route.
“Burros have a mind of their own,” says Keith Moffett, who was sitting on Leadville’s 5th street this year. “They’ll go where they want to go, they’re in charge, so you just stay out of the way.”
Burros have been known to run five or six minute miles, but only if they want to. The Leadville course is 21 miles long for the Open race, and 15 miles for the women’s race.
The teams climb over a mountain pass, gaining 4,000 feet in altitude on bumpy dirt roads. The rules for all the races in the Triple Crown: you can’t ride your burro, but you can push, pull, drag, bribe, and beg to get them to keep moving.
“There’s no danger of abusing the animal,” says TenEyck. “If they don’t want to do it, they won’t go.”
That’s never happened to Barb Dolan, and her burro, Dakota. Dolan has won the Triple Crown 10 years in a row. Those victories have not always been with Dakota, but when he is racing, he doesn’t quit.
“I don’t know, it’s a crazy sport,” says Dolan. “I just love these animals. I can’t explain it, you just get hooked.”
The training for these events is really year round. Donkey owners have to work hard to overcome their animals’ cautious (not stubborn) personality, where instinct makes them pretty much afraid of anything new and different.
“Cracks in the street, manhole covers. Those orange traffic cones, in their minds, are lethal,” says TenEyck.
That’s why animals and humans have to learn to trust each other. In pack burro events, the race very rarely goes to the fastest runner. The winner is the ream that reaches an understanding.
“I can tell you what they’re thinking by watching their ears and their eyes,” says Imrie. “That’s where all their expression is.”
Since this story was filed, Barb Dolan and Dakota won their 11th Triple Crown title this past weekend. For more information on pack burro racing, visit PackBurroRacing.com.
