When we signed up for the One Day Xtreme
Adventure it was warm outside. Mike and Grant had raced in NGAR last
January and wanted to beat the elements involved in a winter race,
me…I was about to jump out of Florida and try on the North. Of
course we were all excited, but I was the most wary. There is a
distinction between being out in the cold for a few hours and
withstanding the elements involved in a 30 hour race. (Especially
coming from winters where the lows rarely even touch freezing
temperatures). However, if it wasn’t going to be a challenge then
none of us would have been as inspired to push training through the
delicious holidays, and stick with the race even after the date was
pushed back an entire month (by the race organization due to
"permit" issues). We viewed it as more time to gain ground, and who
knew…buy more gear. I had no clue as to all the cool winter gear out
there! Anyway, with the extra month, maybe we would see some warmer
temp’s.
No dice. The skies of Georgia were about to open up a can of
whoop-ass.
It
was 6 am February 11th in Blairsville Georgia on the shore of
Nottely Lake Marina. Mike, Grant, and I were sitting in our grand
canoe (‘the Wenonah Sundowner’ graciously lent to us by our friends
at Encompass) donned with layers of merino wool, waterproof
everythings, and chem. glow sticks. From under my hat I watched the
rain and sleet bead up on my jacket in the 35 degree weather. The
night before, during the race briefing, Ronny had given us a run
down of the weather reports. Mother Nature picked our race weekend
to throw all the winter weather that she could at us. I wondered
just how far our limited supply of hot cocoa would carry us.
The heart rates rose as the countdown began and the lead pack of
canoes took off. Call it a fluke, call it a mixture of darkness,
fog, and freezing rain, call it an impractical blunder of follow the
leader but, as we came out of the marina, the entire line of 23
canoes paddled southwest out of the lake channel instead of
northwest. The terrain was nearly impossible to read in the dark and
the water seemed to fit the bill. The very first trace of a ‘huh?’
was a run of sandbars that left us stuck in muck and fighting to
regain water depth under ourselves. This didn’t seem to correspond
with the map or Ron’s warnings not to portage during the paddle.
This was a case of portage or sit in mucky sand.
We
fought to rescue our shoes as we pushed through the knee deep mud
and back into the river where teams laughed in slight confusion. No
big, just keep paddling. By the time we approached the area assumed
to be CP1, it had begun to grow a bit lighter outside. Ronny told us
that the CPs were not hidden and would be easy to spot. However,
teams were out of their canoes were scouting the area. The bridge,
major four lane highway, and terrain that we canvassed for 30
minutes were not corresponding with our maps. Trying to make heads
or tails of our whereabouts, Grant and Mike continued scouting
around while I stopped a truck on the highway for verification of
the highway route number. The driver grunted that he didn’t know
what maps we had, but they weren’t gonna help us here. Oh boy! I was
never a winner in math, but things weren't adding up. One by one the
teams paddled off in their canoes as our light bulbs began to turn
on. Back paddling in our canoe Grant, Mike and I laughed as we
realized what just took place - a mass screw up. Navigation is a
team effort. We had learned a lesson, took it in stride, and were in
good company with all of the other teams in the race. We got
ourselves back on navigational track and dug in for the ‘real
paddle’. After three hours and 14 miles of paddling, we passed back
by the starting line and headed in the proper direction.
Ironically, the two teams that had arrived late to the start of the
race actually gained an advantage.
They
skipped the follow the leader in the dark chaos and came off the
water in the lead at the first TA leaving the race officials,
volunteers, and support crews perplexed. That 30 mile, six hour
paddle in the cold sleeting rain gave us character and some mighty
stiff legs and backs. Mike got out of the canoe and couldn’t even
stand up straight (grandpa!). I was so happy to see the TA that a
tear attempted to come out, but instantly froze. And rumor has it
that Grant’s pinky toe is still out there. Our tremendous support
crew, Don and Morgan, greeted us with eager, helpful attitudes and
propelled us thru the TA. One of our goals was to move fast through
the TA’s while making the most of them. Get dry, get food, and get
out. We hopped into our warm vehicles and worked out cramps and
stiff limbs while our support crew threw our labeled clothes bags at
us and dumped hot soup down our throats. I could have stayed in the
warmth of the vehicles all day, but we took off on our bikes after a
46 minute TA. Not stellar, however, the average time that teams were
in the TA was 55 minutes. (The fastest time was 17 minutes, and the
longest was 1 hr and 16 minutes.) Bones and brains…they take longer
to function in that cold.
Soon after Mike, Grant and I headed out on our bikes we discovered
that the maps were outdated, which is not unusual. Depending on the
elements, sometimes you can work with old maps fairly well, and
sometimes it is a bit tougher. There were roads on the map that in
actuality were covered by a lake, and new roads that were definitely
not on the map. While searching for our next checkpoint, we ran
across some Blairsville natives who had never heard of our
destination - Chestnut Gap. It seemed as thou we hadn’t shaken off
the navigation head scratching yet, but Mike and Grant are a
well-built navigation team. We donned our creative routing caps and
realized that we had to bike through a large Boy Scout camp to get
to our missing road. Hindsight is everything. We had been by the
entrance to Boy Scout camp previously and contemplated heading in,
but figured with it being private property it couldn’t lead to our
road. After a good hour of unintentional process of elimination
biking, we were pumping away and back on track again headed for CP
4.
That
5 ½ hour bike portion was a bittersweet battle of ascents and
descents on paved roads in the freezing rain, and muddy/snowy off
road trails that left our derailleur’s begging for attention. We
grabbed CP 5 and were thrilled to know that our next CP was also our
second TA. Once again, time to recharge with warm dry clothes and
hot food.
Morgan and Don really came through for us at this TA. They had
picked up three medium pizzas and kept them warm by stuffing the
boxes in Morgan’s sub-arctic sleeping bag. Talk about going the
extra mile! We threw off wet clothes, grabbed dry ones while
figuring out gear changes and communicating with Don and Morgan our
needs for the next TA. The sun had gone down, the temperatures were
plummeting and the real race was just beginning. We made the most of
that TA and were in and out of there in 30 minutes.
The next section of the race was a straight forward hike that
followed 17+ miles of the Benton Mackaye Trail. Grant, Mike and I
had grabbed our trekking poles on this section and this proved to be
a wise decision. Ronny had told us to expect more down’s than up’s
during the race course. When he first said this I was skeptical, and
as we progressed thru the hike…I called bull on his comment. The
race was to be 110 miles with an excess of 10,000 ft. elevation
gain. Much of that gain was felt on the hike. The winds were blowing
fierce along the ridgelines we were following, but at least we got a
break from the sleet during most of the hike. The moon was full, the
ground was covered with at least 5 inches of snow, and the air was
bitterly cold. Racing through the night is a moment when you can’t
help but realize how lucky we are to be out there. There is
something about the darkness and bobbing headlamps as you trek
through the wilderness while the rest of the world sleeps. Gotta
love it!
We entered the third TA and CP 9, the Skeenah Creek Campground, at
3:44 a.m. after 8 hours and 45 minutes on the Benton Mackaye Trail.
By
this time the race course had been re-routed around the Mulky Gap
due to the weather conditions. The temperatures continued to drop as
the relentless winter weather began dropping more snow. I could feel
myself slipping away in that cold. Thank goodness for the warmth of
our vehicles. As the heat blew on your feet you could feel
determination start to defrost. We took our support crew by surprise
this time, but they had cleaned off our bikes and given them the
necessary tweaks to get us back out on the trails. Our supply of hot
food was pretty much gone, so we concentrated on drying off and
drinking hot fluids. We took almost an hour in this TA. In order to
continue on we needed to be out of the TA by 5 a.m. and as Mike put
it “we came to do this”. So as the snow poured out of the sky Mike,
Grant and I cranked our bikes in route for CP 10.
The roads were slippery. A layer of ice lined the road as snow
continued to pile up. We had trouble seeing through the flurries as
we pedaled forward. It was a winter wonderland and the kid in us
popped out as we slipped and skidded over the roads with our bikes.
We were heading towards CP 10 taking a mandatory route over some
seriously overgrown fire roads. The riding was tricky with a fair
amount of hike-a-biking. Each time we were forced to unclip and put
a foot down, our cleats would clog with snow making it impossible to
clip back in. The open binding mechanisms of our pedals made them
vulnerable to packed snow and our chains were freezing. It was cold
and we fought the game of pounding out our shoes and pedals to keep
moving forward. We were going to finish this race.
Well, we
wanted to finish the One Day Xtreme. At approx.
9:30 a.m. we had made it through the off-road trail and were back on
paved roads…not that it really mattered at this point the snow was
so deep. At first I thought I might have been hallucinating, but the
race director himself came bustling down the road in his big black
truck and pulled us off the course. He told us that he was stopping
the race due to the weather and we were to head back to the Skeenah
Creek Campground where our support crew would be able to come and
pick us up. The snow was getting deeper by the hour and we respected
Ronny’s decision. We slipped out of race mode and enjoyed the
ride/push a bike back in the snow. We were a bit disappointed, but
also very happy to have come this far safely and to be headed back
for warmth.
Mike, Grant and I enjoy the elements of a race. Personal challenges
are overcome with our strengths as a team. We care about each other
and work well as a solid unit. We usually end our races talking
about our love of adventure racing in its complexities and this time
was no different. Little did we know that our personal adventure
race was about to heighten.
After we made it back to the campground we laid our bikes against a
tree and all headed to the only building around with any form of
heat, the bathrooms. Morgan arrived and came into meet us with a
bizarre look on his face. After we had left TA 3, Morgan and Don had
headed back to our cabin in order to clean our gear and keep up with
their awesome support crew qualities. This was approx. 5:30 a.m.
during the height of the winter storm. The cabin that we had rented
for the weekend was tucked away on the back roads from hell (frozen
over) and was not a place to be in a snow storm with ice as a base.
Don was driving Mike’s beloved Yukon and lost control on the ice.
The truck rolled over the side of a cliff and came to a halt as the
Wenonah Sundowner strapped on top grabbed a tree. You could hear a
pin drop as the blood left our faces in fear for Morgan’s next
words. Morgan assured us that Don was indeed ok. He was safe back at
the cabin. That was a huge relief. Even though we were crushed to
hear about Mike’s Yukon and our friend’s canoe, those are
replaceable and we would deal with them.
We climbed into the car and headed back to the cabin with mixed
emotions. The post race adrenalin swept away with the reality of the
conditions. In doing what you love, in facing extreme conditions you
take chances and face risks. We accepted the weekend with open arms
and came out feeling good about our accomplishment, feeling
regretful about the losses, and feeling excited for the next
adventure. In the end, we finished the race in 3rd place overall
with the majority of teams withdrawing from the race over the long
cold night.
