-23hr40m of running.
-130km of tough West Coast Trail completed.
-At least four toenails sacrificed.
-AND IT WAS ALL WORTH IT BABY!!!
I'm on top of the world right now. Even if in time, another runner or group of runners can exceed my time for these trails, they can never take away the fact that I was the very first person to have ever accomplished this...and solo at that.
I'm half drunk while I celebrate with a few friends, but figured I should put a quick update on here. My running report will follow in the days to come...
WOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,
GR
-130km of tough West Coast Trail completed.
-At least four toenails sacrificed.
-AND IT WAS ALL WORTH IT BABY!!!
I'm on top of the world right now. Even if in time, another runner or group of runners can exceed my time for these trails, they can never take away the fact that I was the very first person to have ever accomplished this...and solo at that.
I'm half drunk while I celebrate with a few friends, but figured I should put a quick update on here. My running report will follow in the days to come...
WOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,
GR
I got my permit to run!
And this will be fun, in the sun with a bun...ahh out of un's...
Worked ten hours yesterday in Squamish, drove an hour to the ferry, boarded a 1.5hr ferry ride to Vancouver Island, drove the three hours to the trail head and managed four hours of sleep. Got up early, brought a chair and a book with me and camped out in front of the Warden's Office until they opened at 9am. I was leaving nothing to chance!
Permit in hand and my support crew (Carlos Castillo) en route...the countdown is on...only 16hr's till my 4am start.
Bamfield is a nice, quite ocean front town. I'll enjoy the day relaxing and trying not to stress out about what I am attempting to accomplish tomorrow.
Wish me luck,
GR
And this will be fun, in the sun with a bun...ahh out of un's...
Worked ten hours yesterday in Squamish, drove an hour to the ferry, boarded a 1.5hr ferry ride to Vancouver Island, drove the three hours to the trail head and managed four hours of sleep. Got up early, brought a chair and a book with me and camped out in front of the Warden's Office until they opened at 9am. I was leaving nothing to chance!
Permit in hand and my support crew (Carlos Castillo) en route...the countdown is on...only 16hr's till my 4am start.
Bamfield is a nice, quite ocean front town. I'll enjoy the day relaxing and trying not to stress out about what I am attempting to accomplish tomorrow.
Wish me luck,
GR
Second sideways video of my attempted climbing...does anyone know how to rotate video like this? Ear Muffs, Eric's a potty mouth!
Couple of sideways climbing vids from yesterday...I think Eric swears in both of them...ear muffs!
Switched it up completely today by doing some rock climbing. I am not a climber, not so good with heights, but my buddy Eric loves it, so we headed out at 6am and did some Deep Water Soloing.
I had a few attempts and just loved doing something completely different, plus it was an amazing way to start the day. I have uploaded a small slideshow from our morning on the water.
GR
So for next weekend, the B.C. Day Long Weekend, I was initially looking to plan a sky diving outing with some friends. Unfortunately the operation I had contacted did not do the ground school solo jumps, only the tandem jumps and it was ridiculously expensive for these. It has been years since I have sky dived and I always thought that tandem jumping took some of the excitement, build up and scariness out of it...it's not the same if you don't have to climb out of the plane, hold onto the wing and actually let go on your own...so it was out.
Due to the long weekend I have four days off and my mind was working overtime to come up with a solid weekend plan. I can't waste valuable time like this in the middle of the summer!
What to do, what to do...bike to Seattle over a period of a few days(500km), party it up and bus it home...scramble up Sky Pilot, Diamond Head and The Black Tusk, three local mountains, in sequential days...head to Tofino (Vancouver Island) for a surfing and kayaking trip...drive to Banff, catch up with some great friends, hit up some hiking and riding and follow that up with a mass consumption of alcohol...head to Oregon for a biking trip...fly to Wisconsin to surprise my friends who are having a baby any day now (I priced out flights guys, you were actually my favorite option but I just could not afford it)...attempt to run the entire West Coast Trail and Juan De Fuca Trail in one go...find the cheapest flight I could, to anywhere and...hang on a second...run the entire West Coast Trail and Juan De Fuca Trail in one go...hmmm, never been done before, most likely perfect weather conditions, great daylight hours being mid summer, a short ferry ride to Vancouver Island and I would be there...that was it!! This was what I had to pursue next weekend!
The down side of this is that I will no longer be able to compete in Stormy the following weekend. The up side is that this has never been accomplished before, although it has been attempted at least a few times. Oh yeah, the catch...it's over 125km in length, and consists of some of the harshest trails and environment you could ever attempt to run.
The West Coast Trail is an infamous west coast hike and is 77km in length. There is a running record for this trail and it sits at nine hours. The guy who ran the trail in nine hours just ran the Knee Knacker a full thirty minutes faster then I did in 2005, so he's no slouch on his feet!
Last year I ran the 48km Juan De Fuca Trail with some buddies. It took us seven and a half hours to do so and my friend Dom (a seasoned ultra runner) summed it up best,
"I've run hundred km races in less time then that trail took us!"
IT IS GNARLY, AND WE WERE SPENT!!
The very thought of pulling off these trails, back to back, has me popping ibuprofen as I sit here on my computer...I is scared!!
I kinda made the announcement to a few friends before I had really thought through all the details. Honestly I was hoping that a few of them would grab at the hook I was tossing out there and jump on board (a group of us have talked about attempting this at some point in time, maybe this fall)...no one did. In fact I got a very mixed reaction, from obvious support, to comments from the people who know me best that this was not such a bright idea on my part. Someone mentioned the tides and I realized how hasty I had been.
There are numerous points along this trail where you have to run on the beach. This can only be accomplished during low or at least lowering tides. I had not even looked into what was happening around my proposed dates...I feared that I was going to be rescinding my words within twenty four hours of throwing them out there (the very thought of having to do this actually made me sick to my stomach). I tentatively drew up a rough idea of where I would be on the trail, and at what time. I then called the Pacific Rim National Park Office for the third time in two days.
"Hi I was just calling to get the tidal information in regards to the kilometer markings where you have to hit the beach along the West Coast Trail."
"For which days?"
"Saturday August fourth."
"And?" (this is listed as a five to seven day hike)
"Just Saturday please."
"Are you the guy who is hoping to run the entire trail next weekend?"
"Umm, yeah, hoping to being the key words here."
"I told my family about you over dinner last night!"
"HA! Well no matter what occurs next weekend, I'm sure I will leave you with another story to tell them in a weeks time!"
After gathering the necessary info and going over everything three times up and down, I was absolutely shocked to learn that the tides could not have aligned better! This was it, the last bit of fate that I needed to see...I was going!
There are of course the smaller issues that still have to be dealt with, like how the hell am I going to shuttle my own vehicle, my food, my drop bags, carry all my gear while running unsupported...oh yeah, and I failed to mention that the trail sells out three months in advance and although no permits are needed for the JDFT a permit for the WCT is like gold at this time of year. Even though I am not intending to stay overnight, there will be a $200.00 charge for permits and water taxis (across two bodies of water). I have been told that they release five extra permits, each day, on a first come first serve basis, so after work on Thursday I have to drive to the ferry, get to the island, drive to the start of the trail and camp out, in the hopes that at 9am I am one of those five. Otherwise I will plant myself on their doorstep to be one of the five people to get a permit for Sunday the 5th.
I was a little freaked out by what I had managed to get myself into in the last twenty four hours.
I have realized throughout my life that it seems to be human nature that whenever you dream of something big or start to plan something large, you almost immediately try to talk yourself out of it. I mean, the greater portion of people will come up with a wonderful idea and then spend an hour telling themselves why they could never pull it off! I am no different, and this whole thing scares the hell outa me right now, but that excites me more than anything and really gets my blood flowing!
I did end up spending a full sixty minutes telling myself everything that could go wrong out there, why I should not be attempting to do this on such short notice, most likely on my own, and of course that this distance is roughly twice as far as I have ever run before...but one thing I have managed to teach myself over the years is that even if I end up failing in my attempts to do 'stupid' things, I will NEVER, EVER regret having given it a go in the first place. So with that I sent out an e-mail proclaiming my intentions...and then ran to the book store to buy the new Colin Angus book, 'Beyond The Horizon'.
For those of you who have not heard of Colin Angus, he is a Canadian Adventurer who has done some pretty crazy shit in his life. His most recent accomplishment...the first person to ever circumnavigate the planet Earth under his own power! I attended his slideshow presentation in Vancouver last year and it was pretty impressive to say the least.
I read the first eighty pages of his book, realized how tiny my little proposed run is in the grand scheme of things, and started thinking about all of the incredible things that I could experience during my attempt to run 125km of the toughest trails around.
Whether I am able to cover the entire route or not, and no matter what happens to me during this run, there will undoubtedly be a story to tell and an experience that I will never, ever forget!
Wish me luck.
GR
I can never quite seem to find the time to look back and reflect upon the things that I have done, only ever find time to start concentrating on the next big thing. As someone once told me, I seem to be without rear view mirrors in my life.
I know that when I am old and grey I will waste away many a day, with a good mug of tea, lounging in a hammock, and reflecting back upon the things that I never fully took the time to appreciate while I was doing them...but until then, it's on to the next one...
Stormy, 80km ultra marathon, August 11Th. The biggest distance I have covered to date in a trail race is 67km, but that was way back in 2004! Since then many things in my life have changed, as this addiction continues to grow, and although 80km is a hell of a long ways to run, I am only doing it to finish a qualifier event to enter my name into the draw for Western States, a 160km non-stop running event that I would love to do in 08...because if you can finish 'Western' in under 24hr's, you are awarded a cowboy belt buckle!!
Anyways, I diverge, it's sunny out for the first time in a week (as you can see by some of those flooding photos) and I was just quickly going to toss up a few pics of my last few weeks of training, which as you can imagine have been running dominated.
I put in almost 10hr of running two weeks ago and 12hr last week, all in all feeling amazing heading into this event. I managed a 5hr run in Whistler on Sunday covering over 45km and numerous great trails such as 'Comfortably Numb' and the Lost Lake trail system. I was amazed at how my body held up throughout and pleasantly surprised to find that I wasn't too bad the following day. A few more big runs and then a taper until the event...oh yeah, and I fly to Australia the week after Stormy for XPD, our biggest race of the season. The race directors just decided on a whim to add an extra hundred km to that race, so it now sits as an 800km expedition adventure race...we have to finish it as quickly as possible...to enjoy as much beach and beer time as we can!!
Anyways, I'm out the door, too nice to be sitting on here...
GR
Gettting to top of our second peak just a little too late to navigate safely down the opposite side! This is where we lost almost 4hr's getting cliffed out and retracing our steps.
Having a blast in the snow at Raid The North Extreme 2007
A short video from the first trekking stage of RTNX 2007
Checkout the summer edition of Get Out There Magazine. There is a short write up about the Squamish MOMAR on page four, and one of the best articles I have ever seen in print on page twenty two...
(just for the record, I did not say that we finished 2nd in Baja, I stated that we were unranked, second team across the finish line)
GR
The fourth annual Squamish Thunder took place this past weekend at Alice Lake. Conditions were absolutely perfect, with slightly overcast skies and perfectly packed trails due to our recent 'heat wave' in the lower mainland of B.C.
I was somewhat surprised by the surge of day of participants and even ran out of registration forms at one point! However, we managed to get record breaking numbers, having never cracked 100 participants, we had exactly 200 registered runners for the 2007 edition!!
As a first time race director there were two things that I wanted to ensure I did properly,
1) Flagging the course
2) Posting the results by Monday morning
These are perhaps two of my biggest pet peeves that I see in the races I do and I wanted to ensure that I took all the necessary steps to avoid this.
The night before the event I spent 2.5hrs basically running sprint intervals while flagging the hell out of the trails around Alice Lake. I used five rolls of flagging tape where most race directors would use one or two. The following morning I drove to the furthest corner of the race course to ensure that no one had messed with the flagging in the previous twelve hours. My Christmas like display was perfectly in tact and I headed back to the start-finish area to organize the days events.
After a few pre-race announcements the event was underway. The first ten km runner was through in just over 45 minutes and the first 16km runner broke the course record by over three minutes, taking just 58 minutes to cover the course, which had significant climbing involved.
Quote of the day:
"You failed to mention how big that climb was!"
I was happy to confirm that no one managed a wrong turn out there...an absolute rarity in trail racing...and my race results were posted first thing Monday morning. The feedback I have been getting so far has all been overwhelmingly positive and I greatly appreciate all of it.
This was a bit of an eye opener to me, having only seen the other side of the coin for a few years now...when the volunteers try to stop you at the finish line...do it! It's for a reason...one which I never fully understood until this past weekend. The time and effort that goes into every single event, no matter how small, is significant and those involved certainly don't do it for the financial rewards. I know I have a greater appreciation for what I may have taken for granted since I started racing.
The volunteers were amazing, thanks to every single one of them for there incredible assistance, the event would not be possible without them!
Congratulations to each and every runner that took part, from the first across the line to the people at the back of the pack, I appreciated having all of you out there and hope to see you again in 2008.
Sincerely,
Gary Robbins
(These pics are not in order...it's harder then you would think!)
As mentioned, the team was in second place, after a 5km run, coming into the first transition...another dreaded paddling leg.
We were definitely in race mode and went to work on pumping up those damn boats as quickly as our bodies would allow.
A few teams managed to launch ahead of us, but there were rumours of some teams having purchased a second pump to quicken their boat transitions (I wish we had done the same!). As soon as we hit the water it was the same ole crap, the boats would not track, they were all over the place and we thought our race for a top finish would once again be over before it even started. What we did learn from a few other people was that these boats are amazingly finicky when it comes to weight distribution. Todd is a big boy, and we had packed one big bag of gear in each boat during the first few days of the race. For the second stage of the event we re-positioned the seats within the boat to help balance them out, and packed much smaller bags of gear into the kayaks. As soon as the boats started weaving their way through the water we went about the tedious process of re-configuring the weight in the kayaks 101 different ways...I eventually moved the pump, weighing all of 1/2 a pound to the middle of the boat...and the friggin things actually started to track through the water and allow us to paddle!! We hooked up the tow and agreed not to eat, drink, fart or burb until we hit land again.
A couple of teams caught us, but overall we had a respectable paddling time and came off of the water in a good position for ourselves. The rains had started mid-way through the kayak section and it was now streaming down sheets of water on us. We were entering what would prove to be the most physically challenging stage of the entire race...an 8km boat-whack. The kayaks weighed about sixty pounds each, and as if we didn't already hate the things enough, we now had to deflate them, somehow attach them to our backs, and bushwhack them up and over a decent incline before re-launching them in an inlet on the other side. A few teams had wheels that had functioned well for them throughout the event and they were some of the first teams out of this transition. We managed to utilize the seat straps and came up with a make shift harness to attach the kayaks to our bodies...there was still 100 pounds of gear outside of the boats and Todd carried three backpacks and three PFD's, I could hardly make out Megan behind her load, Chris had a kayak on his back and I was being somewhat strangled by our kayak paddle bag dangling around my neck, with a boat hanging off of my rump...we were off!
Was There A Turnoff Back There Anywhere??
The team is pretty strong on our feet and we went about tracking down numerous teams that had left ahead of us, including two teams that were trying to wheel their boats through the bush. We were initially following a fairly open forest service road, but it quickly became indistinguishable and those teams with wheels were rapidly regretting their choice. We knew we were towards the front of the pack, but all of a sudden we noticed there were very few, if any, tracks/footprints in front of us. We checked the maps and it all seemed to make sense so we continued onwards. There were two teams just back of us, which only lead to our belief in it being the proper route. Eventually we popped out into a clearing and the trail/road seemed to continue on in the wrong direction. We let the other teams catch up and amongst us we compared our knowledge of English swear words. At that point we were right with our good friends from Baja, 'The Dancing Panda's', and as we all turned around to head back the way we just came our buddy Eric yelled out,
"Don't worry, you guys are the comeback kids!"
I though for sure we had taken ourselves out of the race, for it was a costly 30-40 minute error. We found the 'intersection' where we had taken 'the path less travelled', and for the record, it was not more rewarding!
We were now, once again, towards the back of the pack, yet moving quickly over the terrain. We eventually came to a bit of a bottle neck of teams and I asked my team if they were alright with running for a bit. Everyone agreed and we made our own passing lane around a big group of racers. I noticed some people trying to match the pace, but with sixty pounds on your back it is no easy task.
Within an hour we were once again catching up to people we had been with or around before our detour. This gave us renewed hope that we might have caught our mistake in time to make up for it, and once again we quickened our pace to get past these teams.
What happened next was a bit shocking to all of us. We traversed around a corner and straight into three teams who were checking their maps...it was Sole, Dart-Nuun and Intrepid Travel...we knew that this had to be the lead pack of teams!! Now admittedly, Sole and Dart-Nuun had covered a lot more race course then ourselves in the first three day stage on the islands, but Intrepid Travel, like ourselves, had run into some bad luck and were forced to drop out after the first trekking stage of the event. They are a respected and experienced team and we knew that this second stage of the race was probably going to come down to a race amongst the un-ranked, more rested, slightly frustrated teams that faced issues in Haida Gwaii. GAME ON!!
As these teams were going over their maps Todd and Chris decided to pick our own route and go with it. We started descending a gully, which lead us onto a lower forest service road and eventually what ended up being a thick forested, steep descent back to the ocean. Now keep in mind that everyone was overloaded with gear and you can just imagine how on more then one occasion someone would yelp as they found themselves off balance and falling with what was basically an anvil tied to their backs.
I never thought I'd be so happy to be inflating those damn boats!
There was a camera crew on the water and once they spotted us they approached for some footage. We were able to converse with them as we were pumping up our watercraft,
"How many teams have made it out so far?"
"One, you guys are second."
"YEEE HAAAWW! How far ahead are they?"
"An hour and a half."
"WHAT!!!"
Team Supplier Pipeline, another un-ranked team, racing with only three of four members...and only one boat, were able to make up big time on the paddling and bushwhacking sections...we would not seem them at all.
We hit the water and once again went about trying to find that magic mix of where things should be placed. Eventually, after an insane amount of frustration, we had the kayaks working with us and not against us.
Team Sole caught and passed us within an hour. Not far behind them were teams SSS (fourth overall) and Intrepid Travel, working together with an efficient draft system in place. We knew that this was our only chance at a respectable paddling leg and we just about killed ourselves in joining them and hanging on. We held their pace for about an hour before they dropped us, however, we managed to keep these two teams, and Team Sole within sight and pulled off the water section within a few minutes of them, and with no one even close behind us.
Intrepid were first out of transition, followed by Sole. Team Helly Hansen/MOMAR had made up significant time on all of the teams in front of us threw a great transition and we were off right behind Sole and ahead of SSS. A few minutes out, Team Sole captain Paul Romero 'called off the wolves', and they dropped back from us. Initially we thought that they were letting the un-ranked teams go at each other. With a four hour lead over second place after the first stage, Sole had but to finish this second stage to claim their overall victory. We later learned that Paul had issues with his peddles, followed by a few flat tires!
The bike stage was very similar to the first time we were on our bikes. The terrain was pretty much flat, initially on forest service roads and then onto a paved road. With about 10km to go we caught sight of Intrepid Travel. They had stopped to adjust something and as soon as they noticed us in hot pursuit they were back on their bikes and gone in no time.
I Don't Ever Want To See These Boats Again!
We came into the transition to our final kayak stage of the entire event at dusk. Intrepid were one inflated boat ahead of us and hit the water about five minutes before we did. Finally the kayaks gave us a break and right from the get go they worked as they should.
It was nightfall by the time we beached and we could see the lights from Team Sole just behind us on the water. Intrepid were disappearing into the bushes, for a 1.5km hike-a-boat to the last transition of Raid The North Extreme 2007. All along our paddle I was telling the team to be ready to run once we hit land, for there was no way that we were not going to track these guys down!
We managed a short detour on our little hike-a-kayak, and after a speedy transition we struggled to find the trail head. Intrepid Travel now had almost a fifteen minute lead on us! We hit the trail and absolutely ate it up. After about an hour and a half we saw lights in the distance and I whispered to the team
"Their right freakin there!!"
This is where race strategy comes into play and everyone does their best impression of someone fresh out of the shower after a ten hour nap on a long weekend from work.
"Oh hey, yeah, we didn't see you guys there, how's it going?"
"Great, you!"
"Couldn't be better! Great night for a run!"
"Sure is, in fact I'd rather be nowhere else right now!"
"Me too, wonderful night hey team."
"YUP!"
"You bet!"
"Loving life right now buddy!!"
The trail had dissipated and all eight racers were off in different directions trying to find it. I was lucky enough to locate it first and called to my teammates to get on it asap. Two team members from Intrepid were first to do so and we all went about trying to run each other into the ground. I noticed one headlamp was falling off the back.
"Helly, you guys all hear?"
"Yup, yeah, right here."
Sweet...I upped the pace and everyone followed along...all except the injured sheep at the back of the group. It took less then one kilometer for Intrepid to realize that as a team they had to back off. This, of course, was our sign to go as fast as our bodies could handle. We simply had to get our headlamps out of sight as quickly as possible and we started running up this mountain at 2am.
By the time we had hit a few clear cut sections we knew that we had them. Our only concern now was if Team Sole were on us or not. Given fresh legs they would undoubtedly dust us, but with our extra rest we knew we should be able to keep them at bay.
Who's bright idea was it to put planks of wood down on B.C. 'rain forest country' trails anyways? These things are like sheets of ice after a few years of rain and no matter how many times you might throw yourself off of one, your brain keeps telling you that this one will be different, this one is fine...then you're picking mud out of your teeth and trying to re-align your knee joints for the sixteenth time!
There were some very nice volunteers at our last C.P. before the finish line. They ensured us that it was but a 24 minute, yes she said 24 minute, run down the mountain and into town. Over an hour later we were cursing her innocently natured advice and wondering if she thought that we could run as fast as her car would do it in?
What Now? Beer, No Shower, No Food...
Team Helly Hansen/MOMAR ran across the finish line for Raid The North Extreme 2007 at 4:30am, just over 19 hours after the second stage had begun...in second place!! For the stage that is...we were something like 25Th out of 23 for the overall rankings...but at that point in time it did not matter, the team was on top of the world, we had as clean a stage as could be asked for and between us we felt that we had proved to ourselves that given a little bit of luck, we just might be able to compete with some of these top teams in the very near future.
Congratulations to
-First Place, Sole Custom Foot beds
-Second Place, Dart-Nuun
-Third Place, Yukon Wild
The only three teams to complete the entire course!
-Fourth was SSS and because they are just good people and the completed almost all of the course, they get a congrats as well!
Raid The North Extreme is a genuine expedition style race and they practice exactly what they preach,'Real Wilderness', 'Real Navigation', 'Real Freakin Tough'...OK I made that one up, 'Real Adventure'.
These guys pulled off a near miracle in being able to not only re-design the entire race course, over two years in the works, in under two weeks, but on top of that they managed to throw us into incredible terrain in one of the most pristine places in all of Canada. My hat goes off to Geoff Langford, Lawrence Foster, everyone involved with the Frontier Adventure Race organization and absolutely each and every volunteer that helped make this race a sparkling success.
Prince Rupert, upon first glance, does not look like much, but after spending just a few days in this city it was actually hard to leave...I truly wanted to push my flight back! Their are rumours at this point in time that the original race course might be resurrected in a few years time...I for one, can only hope this to be a reality.
Thanks for everything guys, it was an absolute pleasure and Team Helly Hansen/MOMAR will be back for more!
GR
HA, I'm freakin done...now as long as the power does not go out I can try to proof read this damn thing...ahh screw it, I'm going to bed...my Dad can proofreed it for me!
(Check out my incredible form on the water donut paddling section of the MOMAR!)
So I realize that I am falling behind on my official blogging duties, but you have to understand that I have been without Internet at home since returning from RTNX and the first versions of that race report were done by staying behind after work each night to get through it. Now that I have Internet at home again, in my new place, that excuse can no longer be utilized, however with my Race Director duties at this weekend's Squamish Thunder, I am sure to take longer than I would like to catch up on everything...please bear with me!
This past weekend I raced again...and that was the last one for a full month. Todd and I surprised ourselves by pulling off our second MOMAR overall victory of the season. The bodies were still hurting from RTNX but in comparison to that race I just kept saying to Todd, we're only 4hr's from the finish line...only 3hr's to go...only 2hr's till a month off...basically Todd nailed the navigation section and it was over from there.
More to come shortly...
GR
For RTNX 2007 they were having us paddle an inflatable kayak known as the Tomcat Tandem. The reasoning was that they could access so much more terrain by simply deflating these boats to transport them, rather then needing a full kayak trailer and trucks to do so...these boats proved to be the mental undoing of just about every individual in the entire event!
At 6am we were off. A short run down to the beach, into our inflatables and off on a 20km paddle. The Tomcats have a limited hull speed of about 6-7km an hour, so many were under the impression that the boats would be a non-factor in the event...we were about to prove otherwise.
Within minutes we were witnessing teams disappear on us into the horizon. My team is not the strongest paddling team, but I would easily give us a top ½ of the pack, if not top ten ranking in terms of where we should have fared. As the hours ticked by we struggled to keep our focus as teams were effortlessly dropping us. We still had 1/3 of the paddle to go and we were already in dead last! There was no explanation, it made absolutely no sense to us and no matter how hard we tried we simply could not get our kayaks to go any faster.
There was a logging road that followed the shoreline for about five kilometers into the first transition. After continuously staring at the beach and realizing that we could effectively crawl faster then we were paddling the decision was made to get the hell off the water and try to salvage the stage before it was too late. As mentioned we had a custom set of wheels constructed for just this purpose and we felt that if we could be efficient at our switch over from paddling the boats to towing them, that we could run into the transition and most likely surpass some of the teams still on the water.
We pulled off onto the beach, bushwhacked a hundred meters to a logging road and went about setting up our towing device. It was perfect, we were ready to go in minutes and I could feel the excitement of the team to be off of the water and on dry land again. I grabbed the tow and tried to run...it was nothing like the feeling I had the night prior. Sure there was twice the weight, but it felt more like 10x the weight of the one boat I had practiced with. We made it about 300 meters before the entire set up collapsed! The light weight aluminum folded in half, and the boats were now touching the ground on both ends of the center aligned wheels!
We had to unload everything and redesign our loading procedure. It took a few minutes but we managed to stabilize the set up, along with removing the extra weight of our paddle gear (wetsuits, PFD's, paddles, food n fluids, etc), that was now being distributed amongst the team. I tried once again to tow the boats and again struggled to get the wheels to actually roll. The set up had a small bushing type wheel and unfortunately we seemed to be exceeding the maximum weight limit. The wheels were buckling and the friction was making everything feel just as heavy as it actually was. I was now towing a 120 pound trailer and my teammates were carrying 100 pounds of gear...our progress was slow to say the very least.
When we finally made it into the transition from kayak to trek and were greeted with,
"Oh Team Helly Hansen, we were starting to worry about you!"
"So we are dead last right..."
"You betcha!"
"How far back of the leaders?"
"Two hours."
In five hours of racing we had lost two hours to the leaders...we were in complete shock!
DEAD LAST, TIME TO RUN!
We had a quick transition and went about running the first 12km of the trek until we would reach the entrance to the actual bushwhack. In the process we managed to catch and pass three teams, which brought us from 23 rd up to 20th. After the 12km run you had to cut off the main trail and find yourself the best route to the peak of a mountain, then come back down that mountain into the valley below, before heading right back up another mountain on the other side, and finally descending the opposite side of that rock face back to sea level and the second transition to the bikes...it was the perfect terrain for my team to get back into the race.
We saw very few teams in the bush, and by bush I mean exactly that. If you want to get an idea of what we were facing, go to your favorite trail head, trek 200 meters in a 90 degree angle to the trail itself and then follow this terrain until you reach the end of your favorite hike or run. If your home terrain is not filled with tight trees, mud pits, river crossings, dead fall, bog, snow and exposed rock then you are getting off easy! There were absolutely no trails in this terrain...I loved it!
From sea level we climbing to our first summit at 3500 feet above. There was a team just ahead of us that we passed on the last pitch and out of curiosity we asked them if they knew what position they were in.
"6th"
"Did you say 16th?"
"No 6th"
"Sorry, was that 16th?"
"SIXTH!"
In five hours of trekking we had surpassed seventeen teams...we only crossed paths with five of them! We were right back in the game and now passing this team put us in the sixth place position. There was an instant jump in our step, and we were off and running down the mountain!
We shot back down the peak and into the snow we had just traversed up. This was followed by a harrowing scream. Megan went down hard and had tears in her eyes instantly. She had folded her ankle while traversing the snow pack and was unable to move for a minute. All we could do was offer her a bandage and hope that she would be able to recover. I knew she would tough it out and within a minute she was up and going again. She later commented that the snow seemed to freeze her ankle for the next hour until it felt better.
We hit an open patch of snow and went about 'skiing' it down in our shoes...well I skied it, my teammates slid down on their butts...it was a blast, but we were back into the valley and tight terrain again in no time.
It is not normal to get stage time estimates from race organizers for events such as this, but they had included them for us when the original course was flooded out and they had to redesign everything in a matter of days.
The time estimate for this first trekking leg was 5-10 hours. I know that my team can trek with the best of them and I packed 7 hours of food, figuring I could go without for a few hours if necessary. We were not even starting our second climb and we had already been out there for 10 hours...I had 200 calories left!
We quickly realized what we were in for and started rationing what we all had on us, which was basically nothing. I ended up with about 25 calories an hour, for the next four hours, which was absolute torture on my mind and body. Hour by hour passed and we trekked onward and upward, my entire being screaming at me to nourish it, to indulge in my last 100 calories and forget about holding out for the rest of the trek. Eventually, one small bite at a time, we all ran out of food.
There was a recommended 'way point' on the course, which meant that the race had given us a bearing that they felt would be the safest route for us to follow. There was no checkpoint this far out so all they could do was recommend that we follow it for our own good.
I am quickly learning that in expedition adventure racing loosing a few minutes can add up to loosing a few hours in a heartbeat.
We reached this way point saddle at 11:15pm, right at sundown. The fastest route that we had initially scouted on our maps would take us up and over the ridge line, but now at nightfall that route was effectively out of reach for safety reasons. We had about 45 seconds to crest the saddle and try to scout a safe route down the opposite side before the sun completely set on us. It looked best to traverse left into a clearing that seemed to lead swiftly down the mountain side.
We pulled out our headlamps and ended up spending the next four hours getting cliffed out, retracing our steps, holding onto tree roots, sliding down snow patches, crossing rivers, and scrambling down rock faces...all to loose just 400 meters in elevation. Arriving at the saddle at sundown had cost us the entire night. Once we surpassed the 400 meters of elevation loss we were back into the tight dead fall forest floor and some terribly slow bushwhacking...but we were safe and moving, which was more then we felt the teams behind us would be able to accomplish.
The night was agonizing. The trek seemed to go on forever and my body was becoming more and more inpatient with my refusal to fuel it with anything. I don't know how we managed on so little.
We popped out of the forest and back to the ocean at 6am. We had crossed a dozen rivers, and some of them were only passable by finding a fallen tree bridge to do so. We had been without significant food for 12 hours, without any food for most of the night. The 5-10 hour trekking stage had taken us 20 hours. What had happened to other teams?
As we rounded the corner into the T.A. There were a half a dozen Bald Eagles that we startled and they flew directly over us, just a few feet away. Chris, being from Ontario, was worried about an Eagle attack! (I just like making fun of Ontario)
As we entered transition,
"What place are we in?"
"5th"
We were all in shock, which was followed by immediate concern for every team behind us.
We all devouring our food at the T.A. and were then hit with some unexpected and unfortunate news. Although we arrived in 5th overall, which we were all quite proud of considering our horrendous paddle section, the top four teams had come in at least five hours ahead of us and the first place team was in 10 hours ago!!! Team Sole, one of the best in the world, just annihilated the course. Due to the spread out field, and the official stage cut-off of a ferry sailing in three days, they had no choice but to short course teams coming in after the top four...the race wasn't even 24hr's old and the top four were untouchable. All they had to do was finish and they were guaranteed their top four placing. This was an unexpected course cut-off as no one anticipated the initial bushwhack to take so damn long. The team was now fighting for all that we could, a fifth place overall placing.
Fifth Or Nothing
While in transition the 6th place team caught up to us, Playground Bullies, captained by Dave Zeitsma, who started the F.A.R. (RTNX) organization back in the 90's and was one of the top known names in Canadian A.R. at the time. Admittedly his team was not the fastest, with his fiance racing her first expedition, but as we all know by now, it is not always the fastest teams that succeed in this sport and Dave had a decade of experience to draw from. We knew it would be a tightly contested battle for fifth. Intrepid Travel, from Ontario, who were also a very fast and experienced team were still not accounted for and until we later learned that they had descended into the wrong valley and were forced to drop out of the event, we kept telling ourselves that they would be pushing hard to catch us as well.
We had an efficient 45km mountain bike stage that lead us back to our initial starting point and another water stage. Upon arrival the water was thrashing about, with high winds hitting the coast. We had intended to sleep for 45 minutes at this point in time anyways, with our tents being right there. We jumped in and started dreaming within seconds. Less than and hour later we peeled ourselves out of the tents and thankfully the water had subsided enough for us to feel safe enough to tackle it.
We launched our boats into rolling but quiet seas. Once again we had agreed to test out our wheel towing set up as we had originally intended to us it on a 40km logging road and before we could even think about attempting such a thing we had to be sure that all the bugs were worked out. This shortened our paddle to just 3km, but the winds picked up again with 1km to go and at one point Chris very seriously asked me,
"Are we actually moving forward?"
"Not sure, just don't stop!"
The winds were whipping so hard that I had a serious fear of my paddle being ripped right out of my hands and tossed into the sea a few hundred meters from me. I made sure to hold on tight with every stroke.
We eventually hit dry land and once again set up out kayak tow. There was an 8km section of road to the next checkpoint. Initially we were under the impression that we would have 5km to cover and after almost three hours of towing the boats I vowed that I would never do it again with our current set up. The 40km kayak tow was out of the question and we were very fortunate to have figured that out in advance.
We hit the C.P. Fully expecting at least one team to have caught and passed us but were surprised to learn that most teams decided to stay grounded when the winds picked up behind us. Even with our pathetically slow trek with the boats, we had managed to lengthen our lead!
We were starting the second big trekking stage and due to our short course status we were now ahead of the entire field of racers. We were told that 'Yukon Wild' were just a few hours behind us (having completed a longer course) and the team went about trying our best to hold them, and any other teams at bay. There was a forest service road approach of about 16km which we ran to the start of the hiking trail. By this point we were once again into nightfall and the navigation was becoming a bit tougher.
Remember That Minutes To Hours Bit I Spoke Of Earlier...
We made our way to a marked trail head and flagging tape that lead into the forest. The flagging tape disappeared at a river crossing. We were informed that the entire hiking trail was flagged to the top. I crossed the river, scouted it out and could find absolutely no evidence of a continuing trail. We back tracked, confirmed our position and spent almost two full hours trying to figure out where this trail could be. Eventually we settled on letting the teams behind us catch up so that we could work together. Also, if they did not show up then we would know that we had gone wrong.
Yukon showed up within minutes and together we went about the very same thought processes that my team had encountered over the last few hours. We headed back to the same flagged river crossing and both teams started searching for a trail...nothing. Then we went about trying to find alternate routes up the mountain and basically trying to alter the maps to fit our situation. We found one additional road, but it petered out to nothing and both teams stood dumbfounded at our location.
Then Chris said something about dead fall and it hit me,
Me to my team, "C'mon, I'm pretty sure I know where it is, let's go."
We headed back to the very same flagged river crossing and I told my team to take a load off and close their eyes for a few minutes. I was convinced that the trail had to continue at some point on the opposite side of the river and I attacked the forest with a vengeance to find that damn flagging tape. There was a huge fallen tree on the other side of the river and I had to maneuver around it and then started scrambling up the slope all the while flashing my headlamp back and forth trying to find evidence of a trail. I had climbed a few hundred meters before I found it, the actual path. I made sure to follow an additional six flags before turning back to follow them down to the river itself.
It was flagged right to the water...but the flagging taped was spread out so far on the water that it was impossible to see that far up stream with your headlamp at night. I gathered my team and told them we had to move. The dawn was upon us and as soon as it brightened up that section of flagged river crossing would be blatantly obvious. With each additional team it would become more and more of an elephant path...we had dropped another 3-4 hours...yet no team had passed us.
As the day brightened, with rain, we found ourselves on a seriously steep climb up a mountain side to the tallest peak on the island. There were ropes along the way to assist in some of the more precarious areas. About 2/3 of the way up we came out of the forest and onto the snow pack. We were indeed able to confirm that we were the first team up as I was breaking tracks in the snow the entire way. The team worked hard and stopped minimally on the climb and we were on the saddle, completely socked into clouds in no time. We were unsure of which way the actual summit was and initially proceeded the wrong way, until the winds came whipping through, in the process taking all of the high cloud cover with them.
In under five minutes we went from being unable to see our teammates in front of us to huge sweeping panoramic views out over 'floating peaks' above the clouds and even the ocean in the distance! It was spectacular and a big boost to our energy levels after working so hard throughout the night to get to that point. Everyone was soaking wet and freezing cold. We could do nothing but press onwards and upwards.
We had just enough time to snap a quick photo on the peak before we were able to spot a line of teams coming up the slope just below us. As predicted, any teams hitting the trail in the day break were able to continue unobstructed throughout the entire trek. Playground Bullies, the sixth place team, were the first team we doubled back on...they had made up over four hours on us and had slept in the process as well...experience, experience, experience. This is not a sport for the young, inexperienced, or impatient...you have to fight at it for years to be successful...at least that's my perspective to date.
We ran down the entire snow pack and it was a big descent until we hit the roots and mud again. Everyone loved it and people were yelling and laughing like kids along the way. By the time we hit the first rope back down we had seen, Playground Bullies, Yukon Wild, Sole, Dart-Nuun and a handful of others. Yukon and Sole were leading with Dart-Nuun being just under 90 minutes behind.
My team descended as quickly as possible as we were trying to prevent Sole and Yukon from passing us along the way. We managed to fly back down the mountain and hit the transition area still in first (5th), but Sole and Yukon came in just behind us, having put 10-15 minutes into us in the process!
This was exactly the motivation the team needed. The top teams were right next to us and we wanted to prove to ourselves that we could at least hang with them for a bit. We had our best transition of the entire event. Sole hit the water first, Yukon just two minutes behind and as Yukon were launching their second kayak we were transporting our first to the beach.
What's That Sound?
The Camera's caught it all:
One boat in the water, the second boat ½ wet and then,
"PFFFFTTTTT"
The right side of the inflatable kayak no longer existed.
"WHAT THE F#$K WAS THAT!"
"Gary the camera's are on."
"I DON'T CARE ABOUT ANY F#$KING CAMERAS RIGHT NOW!!!"
Our boat had a four inch gash in the side of it...it had effectively exploded. The beach we were launching off of was an old logging camp, it was low tide and the ground was covered in old bits of iron. There was a three inch spike sticking straight up from the sand below, it had been there for years and was completely disguised amongst everything around it. I tried to grab it and throw it but it was completely solidified into place. I could not believe what had just happened to us.
We spoke to race management but they said that if we accepted a new boat we would be disqualified. Our only option was to try and fix the boat ourselves. Luckily there were a few local fisherman handy who were kind enough to help us out. The patch kit that came with the kayaks was useless and the locals had much better materials to work with. We initially had to sew up the exterior of the raft and then place a patch on the inside bladder portion of the boat. The rip was very near a seam and a terrible place to try and fix.
It took us five hours to get back on the water, and even then we were leaving before the patch had completely sealed. We were initially launching at 10am, it was now 3pm, the cutoff for starting this stage was 4pm and we had lay powerless as team after team caught and passed us in this transition. We had opened up over a ninty minute lead on sixth during our run down the mountain, but that was all gone in a heartbeat...again.
We set out to paddle the longest stage of the race, a 35km ocean section. In any type of kayak that woud actually glide, or was designed for paddling you would not even flinch at this distance, yet with these inflatables we were facing a 10-14 hour paddle, depending on tides, winds and swell.Instead of tackling it during daylight, we were heading into the night.
Prisoners Of Our Watercraft
We were 20km in, having taken about five hours to cover this distance. The ocean wasn't too bad and we were making decent time, although once again, teams were effortlessly passing us out there. These boats really were the death of us in this race and we unanimously agreed to never, ever register for another race that even thinks about using these boats! Our patch work was holding up decently well, yet there was a slow leak that we had to beach ourselves to pump up every few hours.
It was one of the most mentally destuctive things that I have ever had to suffer through. Putting in so much effort, for so little return. Glaring at the land and realizing that given any type of trail or road we could walk backwards faster then we were moving on the water. I had just spent ten minutes telling myself that I was a prisoner of my kayak for at least another five to six hours and to just freakin deal with it. In the grand scheme of things, this was a blink of an eye.
All of a sudden Todd started complaining about feeling sick. He said he wanted to puke, felt like he had a fever and was unable to continue paddling. We were utilizing a tow rope anyways, so we simply switched it around and told Todd to take a break and try to recover as best he could.
It was 9:00 pm, the sun was behind the mountains and whenever Todd seised paddling he would start shivering. He alternated between a few paddle strokes and trying to relax, but he was continually getting worse. We could tell by Todd's own confusion at his situation that we had to head to shore and get him out of the kayak right away. It was not until we beached and Chris and I had to carry Todd, all 220 pounds of him, that I was confronted with the severity of the situation, he was completely out of it!
We immediately stripped off his wetsuit and placed all of our dry clothes on him, which between the four of us was not even one full outfit! We then tucked him into our space blankets/emergency bivy's and placed him out of the wind. Chris broke out our emergency radio and tried to get ahold of Race H.Q. While Megan collected wood and I went about starting a fire. It was 9:45pm and the sun was gone, we were running out of lighter fluid and our situation would be greatly altered without a fire to rely on...for all of us were soaking and freezing. It was only the focus on Todd's situation that allowed us to forget about ourselves for a few minutes.
Just Follow The Beach Fire
Chris eventually found radio reception and called in our predicament. We located some 'Old Man's Beard' and the fire was raging in no time! We cut Todd out of our bivy's and tucked him around the fire. He was shivering, which was a good sign and within a few minutes we could see that he would be alright. For a very brief moment I swear we were all enjoying being on a beach, not racing, sitting around a camp fire and watching the moon rise over the nearest mountain range...someone even asked where the marshmellows were.
The emergency staff showed up in under an hour, and we later learned that Todd's body temperature had dropped by over two degrees! We were very fortunate that we made the call to go to shore when we did. The radio's have a limited range and everything would have been complicated ten fold with a night sky and fallen temperatures about us.
We were all at The Morseby Adventure Camp and around a fire place by 3am...it was completely surreal, I mean you go about destroying your body and mind for days on end to try and compete for a top placing in a huge race and all of a sudden, within a few hours we are sitting in front of a fireplace, eating strawberries and wearing someone elses clothes. Every single person I met on this trip, throughout the race, the volunteers, and in every township we passed through were genuine, down to earth, good whole hearted people who would do anything to help out a stranger. It was a touching experience to have met so many great people and it really reminded me of being back home in Newfoundland at times.
We managed about five hours of sleep before they collected us in the morning to catch a ferry back to the main island. On the ferry crossing we were able to reconnect with some other teams and get their races stories for the first 3.5 day stage of the race.
The Second Stage
At 11pm we sailed into the night and back towards P.R. Everyone on board was asleep within minutes and like most I slept right up until the morning announcements at 4:30am. The boat docked at 7am and at 9am, from the parking area for the ferry, the final stage of the race began.
It had been almost two full nights since Todd went down with hypothermia. He had been cleared by race staff to go again, and he seemed to be fully recovered. Team Helly Hansen/MOMAR agreed that we were racing for pride at this point. We needed to show ourselves what we were capable of and what could have been with a little luck on our sides.
We started with a five kilometer run to our kayaks and my team was 2nd into transition behind only a team that was continueing on with only three of four members. During the previous day we spoke with anyone who would listen regaring our issues with making our boats move in the water and we seemed to have found the solution from a few people...
(Almost home, hopefully done by tomorrow!)
GR