Crash course on Athens' marathon route

MARATHONOS, Greece - Somewhere down the hot road, the Olympics were bubbling in Athens.

It was admitted that a now uncorrectable scoring error had given Paul Hamm the all-around gymnastics gold instead of a Korean. And imagine the hissy fit in the U.S. if it were the other way around.

Swimmer Michael Phelps had six golds - as many as Russia - and eight medals - more than the entire continent of Africa.

The NBAers lost. Again.

But here on the famous plains of Marathon was another issue. Being of sound mind and spongy body, the question was how to travel the 26-mile route of the Olympic marathon, following in the footsteps of that legendary messenger Pheidippides.

Too far to walk. Too confusing to drive.

Bingo.

That's me, on the scooter.

Yes, Athens has an atrocious accident rate.

Yes, five people were killed Thursday alone, two on scooters.

And yes, when the guy at the transportation desk heard the plan, he kept repeating, ``No, no, no. No scooter Saturday.''

Why?

``Because I want to see you on Sunday.''

But away we went, from the starting line, on the southern edge of Marathonos, which seemed rather dreary and aged, except for the gift shop on the main drag named Mickey's and Minnie's, and a movie poster advertising ``Troy.''

Not far away, 10,000 Greeks blew through 25,000 invading Persians in 490 BC. The Persians lost 6,400 men. The Greeks 192, perhaps the worst defeat ever inflicted upon a No. 1 seed.

You've heard the legend. The messenger Phiedippides was then dispatched to carry the good news to Athens. When he arrived, he uttered ``Enikesame.'' Which roughly means, the bar's open, because we won big. Then he dropped dead.

Sounds like a great made-for-TV movie, except most historians doubt it happened. No matter. It led to the marathon race.

The namesake gets to be host this year, just like 1896, when the first marathon was won by a Greek farmer, and another Greek was stripped of the bronze after admitting he had traveled part of the route in a carriage.

No carriages in sight Saturday. A scooter, it was. And we can report the first historic landmarks on this hallowed path were ... a grocery store on the left and a gas station on the right.

Turns out the marathon route is no ancient trail, but a four-lane road the Greeks improved so it would look good for the Olympics. Phiedippides might have had to slip past sullen Persians, but this year's marathoners - the women this Sunday, the men the next - will be racing past three McDonald's, four BP gas stations, two Toyota dealerships, a Domino's pizza, and a gazillion stoplights.

Barely two miles in, the field will take a brief circular detour around the Tumulus of Marathon, where the ashes of the 192 casualties of Marathon are buried.

After that, it's a straight shot to the finish. Follow the blue line. About halfway, a statue of a runner is in the median, across the street from a furniture store.

As the route gets deeper into Athens, the traffic clogs every inch, and gas stations give way to government buildings. The U.S. embassy is on the right. I wanted a closer look, but it was about there I was nearly inhaled by a city bus.

The street slopes downhill, and suddenly there is Panathinaiko Stadium on the left, where the runners will enter, as they did in 1896.

Greece's Spiridon Louis heard a mighty roar when he arrived leading in 1896. I got an immediate reaction, too. A security man popped off his chair and rattled off some Greek that I took to mean not to park the scooter on the sidewalk.

Whatever. The marathon was done. One hour and 16 minutes. A woman will need barely an hour more Sunday to run it. But she won't have to stop for the lights.