LU Professor Brings Unique Ultramarathon into its 20th Year

When the clock strikes midnight on the second Saturday of December each year, there is no sign of bedtime for a group of runners at Camp Bethel in Fincastle. In fact, physical rest will only come approximately 18 hours later. Because the only way these athletes are getting back to where they started is via 66.6 miles of darkness, woods, steep elevation gains, and possibly—depending on the season—extreme winter weather conditions.

But this is the Hellgate 100K—and the race roster is full yet again.

“I think Hellgate is appealing to people because it’s such a difficult race,” said Dr. David Horton, race director. “People are attracted to tough things, to unique things.”

Horton, a professor of health sciences at Liberty University for more than 40 years, has a lot in common with the men and women who come out each year to attempt Hellgate, the race he founded in 2002.

Despite his impressive athletic resume, the 72-year-old didn’t start running until he was an adult, attempting his first ultramarathon (a race longer than a 50K) in 1979, not long after he started teaching at LU. After that accomplishment, he was hooked—it was the first of about 30 marathons and 160 ultramarathons he would log in the coming decades. Horton also ran across the United States twice.

“Volkswagens are suited for mileage but not for drag racing. I’m suited for longer distance runs,” Horton said with a laugh. “I found the further I went, the better I did.”

Alongside this newfound passion, Horton felt called to bring more ultramarathon opportunities to others. He founded the Mountain Masochist Trail Run 50 Miler (Montebello) in 1983, the Holiday Lake 50K (Appomattox) in 1996, and the Promise Land 50K (Bedford) in 2000.

Through the years, he directed these races, and dozens of others, but over time has passed each one on to someone else to lead—all except Promise Land and Hellgate, his two favorites.

Hellgate has had the same course since it was created 20 years ago. While it’s a 100K, the exact distance down the Glenwood Horse Trail ended up, ironically, being 66.6 miles.

According to Horton, Hellgate seems to have the largest and strongest following in the ultrarunning world.

“Runners from 30 or more states come and run it,” he said of the approximately 150 participants who take part each year.

John Anderson, a 47-year-old father and veterinarian in Crozet, will mark his tenth Hellgate experience this December. He is hoping for his ninth top-10 finish.

“Hellgate is like a test at the end of each year—a life test,” said Anderson, who started running marathons once he turned 30. “Not only are you in shape to tackle this race, which is so hard, but also are you in a mental space where you can handle the race?”

Each runner has to train and prepare for 13,000 feet of elevation gain during the Hellgate course; that’s about 2.5 miles of hills. Much of the terrain is covered with leaves and very uneven.

As is typical in the Virginia mountains, the weather is a mixed bag from year to year.

“We have anywhere from nice weather in the 70s to 10 degrees with a foot of snow. But we have never canceled a race,” Horton explained. “Two years ago, it rained for 10 hours during the race. We called that race Watergate, instead of Hellgate.

There was also Snowgate one year.” There is also the dreaded Hellgate Eyes—a condition where your cornea literally freezes, causing blurred vision. About five or six athletes deal with this each year, Horton says.

The 12:01 a.m. start time means the first seven hours of the race are practically pitch black, with handheld flashlights or headlamps helping to guide the way.

Along the trail, Horton and his team set up nine aid stations that are manned by dedicated volunteers. These stations provide help to runners if they need it and also make sure they stay on course, especially during the nighttime hours.

All of the darkness is a prelude to Anderson’s favorite part of the race: “And then, the sun comes up. It’s like a rebirth, but right when things are getting tough,” he said.

In a way, the Hellgate race—with its demand for physical and mental fortitude— mirrors the life of its founder and director, who has been the subject of two movies, Extraordinary and The Runner.

After several knee injuries and surgeries left him unable to pound the pavement (or trail), Horton had to hang up his marathon days about a decade ago. But he didn’t take that as a reason to stop competing and quickly transitioned to distance biking.

This past summer, Horton completed a bike race from Portland, OR, to San Diego and finished it in just over 13 days. He has also biked across the United States twice.

“Did I want to switch to biking? Nope. I wish I were still running,” said Horton. “But you always look for different challenges. And since I teach at LU, I want to be an example to my students.”

Horton holds himself to a very high standard—and is equally as tough on the athletes that choose his races. This is one reason why Anderson keeps coming back year after year.

“David has been there for several 100-mile races that I have done, and when things are tough, and he knows they are tough, he doesn’t coddle you, or give you false bravado—he will say a comment or two that makes you realize that this is your race and what you choose to do with it is your decision,” said Anderson.

Last year, the fastest Hellgate runner completed the race in just over 10 hours. The average time is around 16 hours. There is an 18-hour time cap.

Horton is proud to say that 90 percent of the people who start the Hellgate race finish it within that time frame.

“It’s not about who wins, it’s about challenging yourself to do something you aren’t sure you can do,” he said.

As for his personal finish line, Horton has no plans of slowing down anytime soon. Retirement isn’t on the table just yet, and the Hellgate and Promise Land races will continue “indefinitely,” much to the delight of ultramarathon runners like Anderson.

“Virginia arguably has the best ultrarunning community on the East Coast, and I would argue, the nation. It’s a tight knit group, and this is OUR race,” Anderson said. “Everyone respects Hellgate and takes some pride in it.”

Renowned Artist Residency Program Virginia Center for the Creative Arts Continues to Innovate after 50 Years of Success

Art, in its many forms, tends to be perceived as a product rather than a process. When you see a painting in a gallery or a book on a shelf, you are presented with a polished result of a great deal of time and effort expended by that particular creator. At Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, however, the creative process—in all its unrefined and hard-won glory—is given the spotlight. For just over 50 years, VCCA has provided artists of multiple disciplines with the time, space, and amenities to fully immerse themselves in their work without specific expectations. Considering the organization’s recent and upcoming developments, its next 50 years are sure to be even more remarkable.

VCCA’s story began in the late 1960s when two Virginia-based authors, Elizabeth Coles Langhorne and Nancy Hale, agreed that Virginia should have its own artist residency program. The program started as a couple of homes and a farm in Charlottesville, and the first artists were welcomed in 1971. In 1978, the program moved to Amherst thanks largely to the efforts of William Smart, an English professor at Sweet Briar College. To this day, VCCA resides on the picturesque 410-acre Mt. San Angelo estate across the highway from Sweet Briar.

VCCA, whose alumni include Beth Macy—author of Dopesick, which has now been turned into a Hulu miniseries—and Charlottesville-based author Jocelyn Nicole Johnson, offers fellowships for writers, visual artists, and composers at all stages in their artistic careers. Applications are accepted three times per year and are peer-reviewed by other artists within the same discipline.

“The most important part of the application is a work sample,” said Kim Doty, VCCA’s Director of Communications. “The panel carefully considers the quality and promise of the work before making their recommendations, and we try to schedule as many people as we can. We have three four-month residency seasons: winter, summer, and fall. Historically, summer tends to be a little more competitive due to many people being on an academic schedule. Within each scheduling period, people come for various lengths of time. We really want to make sure that people can come for a length of time that works with their lives.”

Since its inception, VCCA has remained committed to providing fellows with a balanced environment that allows them to focus on their work while also forging meaningful connections.

“We’re trying to make sure that we’re cultivating a welcoming, supportive, and nurturing atmosphere where artists of all kinds can come and be themselves and get the support they need to move their work forward,” Doty noted. “Our missions of time, space, and a sense of community have been very constant.”

On a basic level, that sense of community derives from artists’ shared awareness of daily life’s abiding ability to thwart the creative process.

“Few people acknowledge the amount of effort and time that goes into creating art,” Doty remarked. “Our day-to-day lives don’t make it easy to carve out that time and space. VCCA and other art residency programs are places where you can be among other artists—the people who understand the struggle personally.”

Opportunities for deeper connections are also plentiful at VCCA. For instance, after residents enjoy dinner together, writers in the group will often host optional and informal readings of their work around the fireplace.

“There are these chances for people to come together and start a collaboration, form a friendship, or simply gain new understandings about how to solve a creative problem,” said Doty. “A writer can have a conversation with a painter and, even though their work may seem to involve totally disparate processes, there’s just something about a different creative approach that can change the way you think about something.”

Of course, solitude is also an essential part of the creative process. Each resident enjoys a private bedroom and bathroom, and plentiful studio spaces are available for use.

Fellows also receive three meals per day provided by renowned catering service Meriwether Godsey.

“We used to try to manage an in-house kitchen staff, but that was sort of an ongoing struggle,” Doty noted. “Then we partnered with Meriwether Godsey, and they are just fantastic. The residents rave about the food and feel like they’re getting healthy, nourishing, and delicious meals every day. Food that is good and lovingly prepared really makes a difference.”

In addition to improved dining services, several updates and serendipitous occurrences have helped VCCA become the celebrated residency program it is today.

In 2004, a foundation in Denver, Colorado, sent out a flyer indicating that it was looking to give away a lovely property called Le Moulin à Nef in the village of Auvillar, France. As luck would have it, Sheila Gulley Pleasants, VCCA’s Director of Artist Services, is fluent in French. VCCA acquired the property and started a residency program in France. Once artists have had a residency in Virginia, they are eligible to apply to the program in France, which hosts four artists at a time. Additional international programs have since been established in Germany and Austria.

In 2020, a once-in-a-lifetime gift helped VCCA realize its long-standing dream of purchasing the Mt. San Angelo estate.

“When we learned that Sweet Briar would be willing to entertain our offer to buy the property, a longtime board member of ours [Cynthia Tremblay] was ready to help,” Doty recalled. “She owned this Georgia O’Keeffe painting, entitled Blue Sand, and when she learned that there was a buyer interested in purchasing it, she very generously donated the painting to VCCA so that we could sell it and use the money to help purchase the property. It feels very poetic that the gift of this painting will ensure that we have this home for artists.”

Although VCCA was saddened to halt the program for 15 months due to the pandemic, the organization completed several significant renovations during that time: the Studio Barn and other public rooms were upgraded and refurnished, each bedroom received its own private bath, all bedrooms and studios received independently controlled HVAC units, and the 1930s pool that had fallen into disrepair was restored. The organization also hopes to improve ADA accessibility in the near future.

Additionally, and even more importantly, VCCA recently hired its first outreach manager and established its 50th Anniversary Fund, which is specifically designated to give 50 artists of color who are new to VCCA a free two-week residency.

“We’ve always had diversity in terms of artistic disciplines, ages, and phases of people’s careers,” remarked Doty. “Now, we’re working hard to make sure that the demographics of the artists who are coming more closely reflect those of the U.S. population.”

VCCA currently has a pay-as-you-can model in which the organization’s Annual Fund covers at least 50% of the cost of all artist residences and an endowment provides more than $150,000 annually in financial aid. A variety of fully funded fellowships, which are endowed by individual donors or sponsored by grants or foundations, are also available. Ultimately, VCCA hopes to eliminate all fees for artists.

As VCCA continues to innovate and improve its residency program, its primary mission of facilitating and honoring the creative process without agenda will undoubtedly remain unchanged.

“It’s a very unpretentious and welcoming place, and there are no expectations or obligations,” Doty said. “We want people to be able to come and just pursue what they want to pursue. We’re trusting them to come and hopefully take their work to unexpected places.”

The Shack is Serving Up Tradition and Elegance in Staunton

Chef Ian Boden knows that to live in Appalachia you have to respect the land.

Tucked into the Shenandoah Valley between the Blue Ridge and Allegheny mountains, Staunton, Virginia, is known for its stunning mountain vistas and small-town charm. It’s also known for harsher winters and short growing seasons.

“The [Shenandoah] Valley and Appalachia are a melting pot, and are the original melting pot of the US,” explained Boden, chef and owner of The Shack, a modern cuisine restaurant in Staunton that has become synonymous with local, farm fresh food. “It’s not just Scots Irish, either, which is what most people think of. There was a huge wave of Hungarian, Russian, and Polish immigrants who settled here. All of the things that I associate with cooking, and that I grew up with, resonate here.”

Boden, whose heritage is Russian and Hungarian Jew, is a two-time James Beard–nominated chef who saw The Shack as a way to connect with his roots.

“The Shack itself was kind of built out of frustration,” Boden laughed. “I first opened the Staunton Grocery in ’06 and ran it for about five years, and made all of the mistakes you’re supposed to make as a chef. I moved to Charlottesville and was a chef at another restaurant, but after doing things my way for so long and developing what hospitality and a restaurant should be like, doing that for someone else was challenging. So, I reopened the space under its new name, The Shack. It had 14 seats when it first opened, and we only turned the dining room once a night. I was the only one in the kitchen.”

From 2013, when The Shack reopened, to today, the dining experience has remained fairly consistent. The restaurant, with its small footprint and minimal seating, still only services a handful of tables at a time. But now, they turn the dining room twice a night instead and Boden has help in the kitchen.

“On our third night in service, Joshua Ozersky, who at the time was a regular food contributor with Esquire, came in,” Boden recounted. “He said, ‘You’re stupid if you change [The Shack] from the way it is.’ And so I didn’t.”

The Shack is mesmerizing from the moment you step foot into the space, which is roughly the size of a double car garage. Black and white photos line the walls—of families huddled together in kitchens or proudly standing in front of their homes—and you get a sense that you’re walking into someone’s home kitchen rather than a restaurant that serves four- and five-course meals with wine accompaniments to match. Your journey continues as you sit down at an unassuming table and your server expertly walks you through the evening’s dinner menu, which changes weekly. Ingredients like whippoorwill peas, sunchokes, and fermented Aleppo chilis are included in their rundown, cluing the diner in that they’re about to experience a true culinary masterpiece—and it makes return guests thankful that Boden listened to Ozersky’s advice almost a decade ago.

Guests have the option of choosing a four- or five-course menu. The dinner typically begins with an off-menu amuse-bouche—a small, special treat from the kitchen to awaken your palate—and ends with an off-menu dessert like truffles infused with seasonal fruits or carrots cleverly disguised as candied gels. In between, guests can customize their dining experience, with each course having two options for them to choose from. The entire meal takes roughly two hours from start to finish, and it’s both an exquisite culinary experience and an education on what makes the Shenandoah region’s food so special.

“This time of the year, we are finishing the last harvest for the region—the last hard squashes and pumpkins,” Boden said, detailing what guests may find on a winter menu. “Because of the way we cook, we are putting up, preserving, freezing, canning. The whole dining room is full of fruit right now that we are processing for the winter. When produce is inexpensive and plentiful, we make the most of it and preserve it for winter. Just like they did back in the day.”

Boden, with his Russian and Hungarian heritage, along with his wife, whose family is from the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, treat The Shack’s menu as an amalgamation of the two cuisines, both of which have a big emphasis on “making do” and preserving for later.

“Fermentation and preservation are a huge part of cooking in the Valley,” he said. “Because the growing season is short and the winters are cold and harsh, it’s important to preserve.”

Even in the winter, when gardens are dormant, guests can still experience the local flavors that are unique to the region because of how diligently The Shack team stores up for the colder months. The menu remains colorful and varied, with produce, fruits, and vegetables that diners wouldn’t expect to find on a menu in December. The ten pounds of excess rhubarb that was harvested in May may find its way to the winter menu as a rhubarb dashi—savory, acidic, and bright. Rockfish, straight from local waters, might be lightly pickled and grilled alongside preserved vegetables and butter poached fingerling potatoes. Or truffle mushrooms may get worked into a matzo dough and served alongside guinea hen stew for a soup that will warm both body and soul.

“One of the important things, as far as people dining here, is to have a connection with what we’re doing,” Boden said.

That connection—with food and with the land that grows it—is what makes The Shack a true joy to experience. At The Shack, you may eat ingredients that are out of your comfort zone, but somewhere in the back of your mind, your memory lets you know that the flavors are familiar and they’re inviting you on a journey.

Legacy Keeper Artist Hannah Burnside Is Keeping a 700-Year-Old History Alive

In August, tattoo artist Hannah Burnside woke up in Jerusalem. After long layovers, even longer flights, and hassles through airport security, she walked through the streets of the Christian Quarter and found herself in front of a solid metal door. On the door, no other markings were clear besides a phone number written in permanent marker.

“I called the number and this dude just rolled up in an old Harley,” Burnside, a Savannah native who has been living in Lynchburg since college, recounted. “His leather jacket had ‘Holy Land Bikers’’ on the back, which is a Christian biker club in Jerusalem.”

Stepping off of the bike was Wassim Razzouk, a 27th generation tattoo artist and the current owner of
Razzouk Tattoo.

For the week following that phone call from the crowded streets of the Holy City, Burnside worked alongside the Razzouk family, learning their tattoo styles and, more importantly, the legacy that they represent.

“The Razzouk family immigrated from Egypt 700 years ago and followed a similar path to Jerusalem that folks take on pilgrimages to the Holy Land,” Burnside explained. “To commemorate their pilgrimage, people would get a tattoo of a particular saint or something that represented the pilgrimage. If they returned, say a year later, they would get the date tattooed underneath the original tattoo. So, some people would have dates stretching down their arm that marked their annual pilgrimages.”

Wooden carved stamps were used as stencils for the tattoos—stamps that are still used some 700 years later at Razzouk Tattoo.

“There are some stamps at the shop that they believe are older than that,” Burnside said. “But they just can’t date them back that far.”

During her apprenticeship at Razzouk Tattoo, Burnside immersed herself into the culture and worked tirelessly alongside the Razzouk family as they helped people memorialize a significant journey.

“One day, we had a group of 20 or 30 Armenian pilgrims come by the shop and ask for cross tattoos to mark their journey,” she said. “It was really cool seeing all of these groups who have different takes on religion, but whether they were Christian, Jewish, or any other religion, Jerusalem marks the Holy Land for all of them. Knowing that they all didn’t believe the exact same thing, but still gathered for the same goal, was really beautiful.”

Despite the language barriers—folks travel from all over the world to get tattooed at Razzouk—Burnside noted that she still found such deep bonds with the people she was able to tattoo.

“They have full trust in you even though you can’t understand each other,” she explained. “That’s a really powerful thing and a really amazing experience to have.”

That level of trust is something that Burnside has worked to cultivate since she began tattooing in 2020. A tattoo apprentice at Caspian Tattoo in Lynchburg, Burnside puts a big emphasis behind comfort and trust with the people she tattoos.

“I understand that a lot of people come into the shop with body image issues, or not loving a certain part of themselves and I just want our time together to be a time of complete ease and confidence,” she said.

After returning home from her Razzouk Tattoo apprenticeship, Burnside is now an official Razzouk ambassador, which means she is in possession of some of the antique tattoo stamps and has expressed approval to tattoo those designs in Lynchburg. As one of only nine current ambassadors—all of whom are situated around the globe—this is an incredible privilege and honor.

“I even had the opportunity to design my own stamp before I left,” Burnside explained. “So now my stamp sits in the shop at Razzouk and they will tattoo my stamp for folks all over the world. And I can tattoo it here in Lynchburg, as well.”

Burnside shared a Ram Dass quote that she felt was particularly poignant in commemorating her journey to Jerusalem—her own pilgrimage in a way. “The quote is, ‘We are all walking each other home.’ I can’t think of a better way to describe what this experience has been like, or what these tattoos mean, than that.”