A guide who could finish this walk before sunrise

This idea of walking across the largest city in the contiguous United States never was meant to be some impressive physical feat.

I’m covering a few miles each Wednesday, taking lots of detours and breaks. It’s more of a long, leisurely scavenger hunt than a race. There are people who could knock out the entire distance, from the Nassau County line to the beaches, in a day. And then there’s George Barthelmes.

He could have it done before sunrise.

At age 48, he’s one of the top long-distance runners in Northeast Florida.

He and his wife live just outside the city limits, on 6.5 acres in Bryceville. After 24 years with the Florida National Guard, he does defense contracting, often on the road. When he’s home, he does small-scale farming on his land — and drives a few miles to run on the Jacksonville-Baldwin Rail Trail.

He’s run more than 50 marathons, winning two of them. He’s also done some ultra runs, including the 260-mile Race Across Georgia in 2014.

He does most of his training on the rail trail. He figures that after running at least 10,000 miles on it — a conservative estimate, based on the 27,000 total miles on his Garmin watches in the last decade — he knows pretty much every inch of the 14.5-mile path.

So when he saw I was making my way along it, stopping near the midpoint the previous week, he offered to play tour guide.

He said we could meet any time, that he typically wakes up before 3 a.m. I suggested we meet at the late hour of 7 a.m.

By the time I got to the Imeson trailhead, he had already covered 6 miles, an easy run the day before the Thanksgiving half marathon.

“There was a huge, orange moon this morning,” he said.

We left one of our cars at that trailhead (our finishing line for the day), headed back to the Camp Milton/Halsema trailhead and started to walk, through woods and past farms.

“What do you like about the trail?” I asked.

“Everything, actually,” he said. “It’s so peaceful and tranquil out here. I run out here virtually every day when I’m home, and almost every run is different. It seems like the scenery is constantly changing, the way the sun is coming through the trees, the animals. Every time I come out here it feels slightly different.”

This middle part of the trail, from about mile 4 to 12, is his favorite. It’s where you look into the distance and see a tunnel-like canopy of trees. And while people don’t typically think of Florida and fall colors, he talked about what will happen in a few weeks, how the maple trees will begin to change.

“To me, it’s the most scenic part of the trail,” he said. “And you see more wildlife in this stretch.”

As if on cue, we heard the squawking of a flock of Canadian geese. As their sound faded, a train whistle blew in the distance.

He often sees deer. He recalled being out here early one foggy morning and seeing a big cat in the distance, standing in the middle of the trail.

“It was bigger than a bobcat,” he said. “I thought, ‘Boy, that sure looks like a panther.’ But it was one of those things I didn’t want to get closer and spook him.”

There are times of the year, when the flies arrive and start biting, when the wooded part of the trail becomes more challenging. But it still beats battling vehicles.

He pointed into the distance.

“In about another mile, you should be able to see something that will get you ready for Thanksgiving,” he said. “About a quarter mile on the other side of Pritchard overpass, there’s usually a flock of 20 or 30 wild turkeys. At night they’ll roost on the south side of the trail, in the wooded section. Early morning, if you catch the right time, you’ll see them cross the rail trail to the northern side.”

We kept walking. A few minutes later, he pointed off into the distance again. Sure enough, the turkey crossing had begun. By the time we reached the field, some were standing there, proudly displaying their feathers.

As we walked, George stopped several times to pick up litter alongside the trail and throw it away in a trash can.

We talked about running and the diversity of places to do it in Jacksonville, from the beaches to downtown to the trail.

He did seem to know every inch of the trail, plus which stops have better tasting, colder water. He pointed out a place that was patched after it was washed away a few years ago, and some ripples in another spot. But for the most part, he said, it's smooth and in good shape. When he runs in the dark, the biggest tripping hazard might be armadillos.

“They’ll run parallel to you off the trail and then for some reason instead of going into the woods, they’ll dart in front of you,” he said.

In the final few miles, the trail opens up. You’re no longer surrounded by trees. There even are some hills (or what counts as hills in Florida). In the summer, after the sun comes up, this stretch can be brutal. But on this morning, it was quite pleasant. And busy.

When we left the Imeson parking lot, there were three vehicles there. When we returned, there were 23.

Some of that probably was because this was a beautiful morning the day before Thanksgiving. But some of it, George said, was a sign of how much use the trail gets.

“It’s almost like a 'Field of Dreams,' ” he said. “When I first started running out here right around 2006 or 2007, there were a lot of times I’d come out here, even on Saturday mornings, and wouldn’t see anybody. And now I don’t care what time you come out here, day or night, there’s a good chance you’re going to see somebody.”

At some point, it hit me that the part of Jacksonville I’ve walked so far, in four Wednesdays, is a pedestrian paradox.

This vastness of the Westside, criss-crossed by two-lane roads full of fast-moving vehicles, is one of the worst parts of town for getting around by foot.

It also includes one of the best places for walking.

Now that I’ve reached the end of the trail, I’m not exactly sure where to go.

From this trailhead, I can’t keep heading due east. I’m tempted to head south toward Commonwealth Avenue and Beaver Street, then maybe go under I-295 toward Murray Hill and some of the areas in town known for their walkability. But I also want to include areas north of there, for the opposite reason. They haven’t been as pedestrian-friendly.

One thing I’m pretty sure of: Wherever I go from here, there will be times when I’ll miss the rail trail.

mwoods@jacksonville.com, (904) 359-4212

MARK WALKS JAX

What: A walk across the largest city in the contiguous United States, one leg each Wednesday

This week: 6 miles on the Jacksonville-Baldwin Rail Trail

Starting point: Camp Milton

Finishing point: the east end of the rail trail

StoryMap: http://bit.ly/2QtdHGN

The series: Jacksonville.com/markwalksjax

To follow Wednesday walks: Mark Woods on Facebook, @TUmarkwoods on Twitter and Instagram