From Depths to Heights as Quickly as Possible : Running: The race is from Death Valley to Mt. Whitney, from 118 degrees to below freezing, and Tom Possert took fewer than 28 hours.

At the site of a prehistoric sea in Death Valley, a sign hangs crookedly on a wooden post, welcoming visitors to the lowest, hottest and one of the most barren areas on Earth: “Badwater, minus 282 feet.”

On a cliff another sign, still visible in the twilight, reads: “Sea Level.”

At 6 p.m. on July 18, a race between contestants and the elements started at Badwater--the lowest point in the Western Hemisphere--and continued for 139 miles, officially to Whitney Portals. Most participants , however, continued on another 11 miles up a trail to the summit of Mt. Whitney (14,494 feet), completing a course from the lowest to the highest points in the contiguous United States.

It’s the Hi-Tec Badwater 146--thought to be 146 miles, it later measured 139--among the top challenges for runners obsessed with pushing their bodies beyond their normal thresholds of pain. Records for the Death Valley-to-Mount Whitney race are official only if the race is run in July or August.

Temperatures have ranged from a record high of 134 at Furnace Creek, which averages two degrees cooler than Badwater, to below zero at the summit of Mt. Whitney.

Solo attempts have been made on this course since 1973. According to Runner’s World magazine, Al Arnold was the first to complete it in 1978. Through 1989, 88 others tried and 15 finished.

Hi-Tec, a shoe company, organized the race in 1988 to eliminate controversy stemming from unsupervised solo attempts. This year, 20 competed and 16 survived the race, making it the largest field to both start and finish.

For the third consecutive year, Cincinnati’s Tom Possert, 27, won in record time. He completed the route to Whitney Portals in 27 hours 56 minutes 20 seconds, shaving more than eight hours off last year’s mark. He was fastest to the top of Mt. Whitney (38:18), erasing last year’s record of 43:20 set by Adrian Crane of Modesto.

“It was a sweet victory this year because I didn’t have to go out first and stay there,” said Possert, who trailed by 22 minutes after 100 miles. “I wasn’t a man alone against the elements.

“My goal was to break 40 hours to the summit. I did it in 38 hours.”

But why risk serious injury and nearly two days of nonstop excruciating pain?

Certainly not for the prize money. Possert said his expenses exceeded the $2,000 first-place check.

“One of the attractions is running from the lowest to highest point in the United States,” said first-time competitor Marshall Ulrich. “Plus the challenge of running in the heat.

“I thought the (course) records were soft and beatable,” he said. “I wanted to set a record and know that I’m the best at something.”

Several other experienced long-distance runners entered this year’s race with the same reasoning and provided Possert with his toughest challenge.

Among the challengers was Ulrich, from Ft. Morgan, Colo., who in 1989 became the first runner to complete six major trails 100 or more miles long. He placed in the top 10 in five of those races.

Flash floods threatened the start in Badwater. Two inches had fallen the previous night, and mudslides sealed off the entrance. Bulldozers arrived shortly before the race to clear a path.

Cloudy skies had dropped the temperature to 118 degrees in the shade (148 degrees at ground level) before the start.

“It was a pretty scary feeling,” race organizer Dave Pompel said. “Not long into the race there was a dust storm. Visibility dropped considerably. It was difficult to see the sun, let alone see it set. We looked at the horizon and saw rain clouds and the potential for flash-flooding. I told the runners if they felt any rain to head to high ground.”

There is no predetermined course. Last year Crane, 35, a computer analyst, took an unconventional route. He crossed a three-mile dry-lake bed on cross country skis, climbed 8,000 feet over a mountain and crossed another dry-lake bed before appearing 70 miles into the race. He shortened the course by 30 miles.

The year, the rain made the salt flats inaccessible and all the competitors, including Crane, were forced to follow an uphill asphalt road for 18 miles to Furnace Creek.

While support crews followed closely in cars and recreation vehicles, a small group of runners broke away from the pack.

Ulrich was off quickly, trying to escape Death Valley before sunrise. Despite kidney pains, he took the lead at the 40-mile mark just outside Stove Pipe Wells and maintained it to Townes Pass (elevation 4,956 feet).

At Panamint Springs, Ulrich almost dropped out of the race.

“I discovered I had blood in my urine,” Ulrich said. “I had kidney pains early in the race, but I forgot about them until I reached the bottom of Panamint Springs.

“I started walking at that point because I was scared. I drank an excessive amount of water--four pints during the next half mile--and fortunately it cleared up.”

Possert took a slower approach through Death Valley, walking at least half of the first 60 miles. At 5:30 a.m., he took a half-hour nap.

“I wanted to get some sleep before the sun got up,” Possert said. “I wanted to trick my body into thinking I slept for three or four hours during the night.”

When he reached Townes Pass, Possert was third, 11 miles behind Ulrich.

At 95 miles, Possert tried to catch Ulrich during the flattest part of the course heading down into Owens Valley, but still remained three miles behind.

“We stayed even for the next 10 miles,” Possert said. “It was really frustrating. Vehicles were going back and forth to give reports (of) where I was and where he was. Whenever I pushed, he pushed. I wasn’t making up any ground.”

By saving his energy at the beginning of the race, Possert was able to run through the mining community of Keeler without stopping. He had to run a 7:45-per-mile pace for 11 miles to catch Ulrich.

“He came to my side of the road to congratulate me,” Possert said. “I wish I could remember his quote. He patted me on the back and acknowledged that if I wanted to win the race, it was mine to win because I was running so well.

“My crew told me he took a break once I left him.”

Ten miles later, Possert reached Lone Pine (elevation: 3,740 feet), to be greeted by a small crowd and a restaurant owner who offered him pizza for after the race. In 24 hours, Possert covered 124 miles.

Possert took a five-minute break to shower before beginning his 12-mile climb to Mt. Whitney Trail Head (elevation: 8,360 feet), where he finished with a course record.

Possert was the only runner to break 30 hours. Ulrich was second at 30:31:25. Joseph Marchand of British Columbia, Canada, finished third at 33:02:00; Jack Christian of Hammond, Okla., followed at 36:56:00 and Odin Christensen of Denver was fifth at 38:42:00.

Barbara Alvarez and her twin sister, Dr. Angelika Castaneda, of La Jolla recorded a time of 39:27:00, smashing the previous women’s best of 53:02:10.

But Possert had another mission.

Park regulations prevent races to the top of Mt. Whitney. In 1988, Possert received a $500 citation after he won the race to the summit. That ticket was dismissed, but Possert was warned.

Risking another fine, Possert climbed the additional 11 miles to the summit at midnight and finished five hours ahead of Crane’s unofficial mark of 43:20.

Crane, who dropped out at 55 miles, joined Possert on the hike.

“I think it was terrific that he set the record,” Crane said. “With the heat, the dust storm and the climbing involved, he gave an absolute great performance. It shatters the illusion that it was a self-record put up by fellow noncompetitive runners.”

Possert said he doubts he’ll return to defend his title. a fourth time.

“I told the meet organizer that after three years, it might be time to retire from this race,” Possert said. “I think it’s going to be hard to lower the record.”