Last year was the inaugural Perfect 10 Rogaine, a 10 hour orienteering race. Luke, Bob, and I had gone and had a great time, so I was already excited about this year’s edition even before a little intra-team bet upped the excitement level. A rogaine is a great learning/practice opportunity since everyone gets a map, and navigation is a huge weakness for me. As much as I was anticipating the race, though, I was most of all looking forward to getting to hang out with my teammates.
Since most of our activities are centered around Jeff City, where most of the guys live, I’m used to making the drive on my own, but not this time. Bob recently moved closer to the St. Louis area, and he’d picked up Casey from the airport, so the three of us made the very cozy trip together in Bob’s truck.
|Luckily everyone wore deoderant|
We met up with Luke, switched all our gear over to the Virtus van, and headed south (? I think it was south) to Lake of the Ozarks. (Luke: Why would Kate say her navigation is a weakness? And yes. It was south.) We were camping again, so I was not thrilled to see clouds gathering in the sky despite the scant chance of rain in the forecast. Last year it rained both nights, and the post-race rain had flooded my tent and made for a long, cold night. With temperatures even lower this year (30′s overnight), the last thing I wanted was a soggy sleeping bag.
We had time to find a spot to camp (my first non-campground camping trip), get set up, and climb back into the van before the rain started. I wanted BBQ, so we ended up at Fired Up BBQ. The parking lot was packed, but the restaurant was largely empty. Weird. The service wasn’t great, but the food was really good and we weren’t in any hurry to get back into the rain. We watched the Cardinals game, talked, and otherwise kept occupied.
The rain never did stop, but that was probably a good thing because it forced us to go to bed sooner rather than hanging out around a campfire. I for one needed the sleep, and thankfully my tent stayed dry and I stayed warm in my borrowed sleeping bag (considerably warmer than my own sleeping bag, thanks Luke!).
We got up around 6, which should have been plenty of time to make the short drive to the race start. As it turned out, despite taking the time to put on a little makeup after changing, I still wasn’t the last one ready. If Luke hadn’t looked at the time around 7:00 (15 minutes after maps had been handed out, oops!) we might still be there. Heading towards the start, we hit another hiccup when it turned out we weren’t as clear on where to go as we’d thought the night before.
Being a little lost on your way to an orienteering race is never a good sign, but eventually we got there and saw the tents pitched at race HQ. Brilliant idea! Why didn’t we think of that? We got our preplotted maps and then set to route planning. And by “we”, I mean that while Bob and Casey busily discussed potential routes and strategies with each other, I left Luke to deal with our maps while I finished putting my food in my pack, braiding my hair, and pinning our numbers onto our packs and then agreed with the route he thought was best.
Luke: That’s not entirely true. Kate had more input than she’s taking credit for. She handed me a pen and a highlighter.
|Photo credit: BonkHard Racing
“Sure Luke…whatever you think, Luke”
Michael, who has read our team blog, came up and introduced himself, and I also got a chance to catch up with my friend Melissa, who rocked the course as a solo.
|The map shows around 30 square miles. It’s a little hard to see, but all of those red circles and numbers show the location of checkpoints. For a look at how teams who could potentially clear the course, check out Emily’s blog post about the race. The highlighted section above is what we anticipated covering.|
Before we knew it, it was time for the pre-race meeting. A raffle ticket was drawn for the sweet Kuat bike rack, but sadly I didn’t win it. We barely had time for some pre-race pictures before it was time to start. In fact, our friend Kelly was still holding the camera as the race began. That’s fitting, because I’m pretty sure he’s the guy who once claimed that Team Virtus would probably do twice as well if we didn’t spend so much time taking pictures.
Luke: But we’d only have half the fun.
|There’s something funny about this picture (besides the fact that Luke and I are sharing one pair of gloves). Can you guess what it is?|
Since we’ve both been running a decent amount lately, we planned to try to do as much running as possible during the race. We’re definitely nowhere near Alpine Shop’s ability to tear up and down rocky slopes while bushwhacking through thorns, but we could at least jog along roads and trails. Our first steps, though downhill, were a good reminder of how much harder it is to run while carrying a pack. Last year, feeling the difference even just a large hydration pack makes helped me to realize how much easier running would be if I dropped some weight; I came back to Perfect 10 around 15-20 pounds lighter, which had to help.
|Our planned route.|
If you look closely at the map above, you’ll notice that each little circle (marking the location of the checkpoint) has a number next to it. The number both tells you which box on your passport to punch and signifies the points the CP is worth. (Important information if you read your race info…not naming any names here but there are a couple I could mention :D). Single digit CPs were worth 100 points, tens were worth 10 points, 20s were worth 20 points, and 30′s were worth 30 points. Strategy is key here in order to maximize your points. Our route included three hundred pointers.
We ran east out of race HQ along the road and then realized we had no idea which way Bob and Casey had gone. All day long we wondered where they were, how their day was going, and whether or not they’d beat us. We basically followed a run ’til Kate got tired/walk/run ’til Kate got tired plan for the road and for smoother trails. We hit our first few CPs with no problems and made sure to get a picture of the cemetery we came across for Chuck.
|Super excited because I’ve located the cemetery on the map.|
I was doing my best to follow along on the map, and I sort of could, but I’d have been in trouble if I was doing the navigating for myself. Well, I probably would have been in trouble, and I most definitely would have been far slower. I teach struggling learners, and navigating using a topo map always gives me insight into what school must be like for them. It takes me a lot of thinking to figure out something that would be immediately obvious to a competent navigator. I’ve learned a lot following along on the map while my more skilled teammates do the navigating, but it’s probably time for me to give it another solo go.
Our first hundred point CP was near the airport boundary. We’d traveled in this area the previous year, and this had been one of the spots where we tested alternate routes. Bob had discovered that the land near the airport fence was pretty clear. Armed with this knowledge, we planned to skirt the boundary. The area was level and clear enough that we were able to run a decent amount here.
|Hard to tell, but I’m running here.|
Since the next CP (number 19) wasn’t far off of the airport boundary and the mapped trails, Luke handed off the maps so I could navigate to this one. Like everything on a map for me, it was much more confusing than it should have been. Follow the airport boundary…which of these fences is the mapped boundary? Follow the trail…exactly which trail are we on? Sigh. We got all turned around and lost some time there before I handed the maps back to Luke and let him sort us out.
Luke: In Kage’s defense, it was a tricky for me as well. I was following along on the map with her, and I’m not sure I would’ve don anything different. Regardless, we found it, and that’s all that matters.
Being able to shrug my shoulders and pass off the map makes me appreciate my teammates who do the nav that much more. I was really focused on following along on the map for the first two thirds of the race, but later when my knee was really hurting and I was hating life a little, I totally checked out and just followed Luke. No one racing with me has that luxury because I’d have us lost in a heartbeat. That’s one of the reasons that I really do want to get better with navigation.
Anyway, we eventually found our way to 19, running into Kelly Sumner on our way out, and then made our way to CP6, another 100 pointer. I don’t remember much about that one, so it must not have been too remarkable. Our plan from 6 was to follow the airport boundary to our attack point for CP 29, but the eastern fenceline was nothing like the relatively clear area you see in the picture above. As we made our way through thickening brush and grass covered rip-rap style rock towards the fenceline, we heard a familiar voice call, “Do NOT come this way!! You can’t get through the thorns and brush.” B’rer Rabbit he’s not, but neither are we, so we took his good advice.
Eventually Kelly emerged from the thicket he’d lost all kinds of time attempting to pass through, so we had a chance to catch up with him for a while on the trek towards CP 29. Once we got passed the briars, the boundary cleared out nicely.
|Kelly leads the way|
Either Kelly moved a lot faster than we did (likely) or we attacked from different points (more likely both), but we lost track of each other before heading into the trees. We snagged 29 (“snagged” might imply that it was easier than it was…I don’t really remember 29, but it seemed like we had more trouble with the 20-pointers than any other CPs) and headed towards CP18.
With the sun finally out, the chilly day was starting to feel really nice. We were hiking along the road talking about the race so far and wondering about where Bob and Casey were, how they were doing, and what our chances were of beating them. I don’t think either of us felt super confident, and it was weird to have no idea at all where they were, what route they’d taken, anything.
Luke: I was pretty worried. I know my brother, and he’s a competitive dude. I thought he might kill himself and/or Bob trying to beat us.
|A partial view of the quarry from last year’s race|
We were just speculating whether Gary had put a checkpoint in the quarry, one of the cooler spots from last year’s race, when we turned off the road towards CP 18 and up to the edge of the quarry. I guess maybe the clue “rock pile” should have given us a hint. Of course, the quarry was full of rock piles. We were having a hard time making our approach match what we were seeing on the map, so we did a little walking back and forth looking for the intersection shown. “That looks like a likely spot,” I told Luke. He wasn’t convinced and started in another direction.
“I feel like it’s right,” I continued. “I’m just going to go check it out real quick.” I walked over to the rock pile and didn’t see anything. I was about to go follow Luke when I considered how stupid I’d feel (and how much time we’d waste) if my perfunctory glance missed if the checkpoint was actually there, so I walked a little further, looked up, and sure enough saw the flag. Now, it has to be mentioned that it was purely dumb luck that I found it; I certainly wasn’t following the map and probably would have been sure the CP was at whatever checkpoint I first laid eyes on…in this case, though, we were lucky enough to have seen the right one first. I called out our special secret code to Luke to let him know I had it and waited there savoring the feeling of — for once — being the one to find the CP.
Luke: Kate saved us at least 20 minutes here. Maybe more. And it was the first REAL time that we used our secret code. It was perfect, and I laughed as I trotted over to her.
We ran into Kelly on our way out of the quarry and attempted to let him know where the CP was, but when we ran into him at the next checkpoint (35) he told us our advice wasn’t so helpful. Sorry! We left that CP at the same time, but he took a slightly sharper angle towards the road or was moving faster than us (or both), and other than catching glimpses of him ahead of us on the road we didn’t see him again until the finish line. We had a long stretch (ok, not particularly long, looking at the map maybe just over 2 miles) of road hiking, which sounds like it should be gloriously fast but wasn’t at all. The race rules required that you walk on the mowed right-of-way next to the highway unless crossing, and trekking along the off-camber side pretty much sucked.Up to this point, we’d had a pretty smooth day with the exception of my attempt at navigation, but we hit a speed bump or two along highway 42. First, CP24 was playing hard to get. Seemed like we hiked a creek forever. We’d had a few other times when we’d questioned whether we were on the wrong track only to find our CP a little further than we’d expected, but this time, as Luke looked at the map and compass, it became evident (to him) that we weren’t in the right place. We ended up hiking over a spur and finding our CP in the next reentrant over, but we definitely lost some time here.
We hiked out to the road and then attacked CP22 which, despite its proximity to the road, was much harder to get to and steeper than we’d anticipated. We were both having trouble keeping our footing and feeling a little grumpy.
Luke: Hiking back up to the road from CP22 sucked. I was nearing a bonk, so I popped a couple of Foosh caffeinated mints and ate a bunch of food. About 10 minutes later, I was feeling much better.
|OK, I don’t look grumpy, but trust me, I was.|
We took a short break once we got back to the road, grabbing some food, checking the maps, getting the little rocks and junk out of my shoes. That taken care of, we snagged CP13 and then headed off in search of our final 100-pointer of the day. The CP required a half-mile hike along a (((ridge))) and then was located off of a hilltop with the ambiguous clue of “slope”.
We cut in too soon and did some wandering around in search of our CP, but that ended up being a good thing. We passed a guy in the woods who was looking for the same checkpoint. Shortly afterwards, Luke spotted it. “Should we tell him?” Luke asked.
“Yeah,” he decided. “We should…hey buddy, it’s over here!”
When the other guy got there, he asked if we were Team Virtus. “I thought you looked familiar!” he told us. It turns out he’s a blog reader who’s corresponded with Luke about adventure racing. We were really glad we’d called out to him. Very cool meeting you out there, Michael.
Luke: This was a different Michael than the one we’d met earlier in the day. It was great meeting both Micheals.
CP2 was the far point of our trek, and now it was time to head back towards race HQ, picking up checkpoints along the way. Last year our last CP was off of this same ridge, followed by a 5 mile road trek back to the finish line. This year’s route was much more pleasant, trekking through woods. Our first CP of the way back, another 20-pointer, seemed to take forever to find as we again wondered have we gone too far? Did we miss it? In the end, Luke led us straight to it and then we headed for the creek we’d follow to some trails.
At this point in the race, despite a healthy dose of ibuprofen, I was really sore. In fact, the last 3 or so hours were very painful. It was weird; the two sides of my body were having very different experiences. While my right side felt fantastic, my left foot, knee, and hip hurt like crazy. Getting to the trail was little respite, and it was around this point where I’d pretty much checked out on the map and was just following Luke, limping, wincing, and struggling mightily not to complain because what good would it do.
Luke: For the record, Kate never did complain. So her streak of no complaining is still alive. She may have stated a few facts regarding the pain in her Maw Maw hip, but they definitely weren’t complaints.
The trail seemed to take forever, but it was very cool to pass a man backpacking with his little boy. We passed another family already set up at a backpack camping site on our way to CP26. Finding 26, we set a fast hike back to the HQ to resupply and decide on our course for the last 1.5 hours. We’d worked all day to minimize our stops, and we were pretty quick grabbing some extra food and water at the Virtus van before setting off for a 30-pointer a half mile or so away. We toyed with the idea of going for one more possible CP but decided that we’d be cutting it close enough that getting 20 more points wasn’t worth risking more than that with the 10 point per minute penalty for finishing after the cutoff…especially when I wasn’t sure I could run.
Luke: We were tempted to get the 20-pointer since it would have put us over 600 points which was our original goal for the day. There was VERY little chance we’d make it back in time, so we played it safe.
Decision made, we hiked back uphill from the checkpoint. Between the steepness of the hill, all the babyheads rolling under our feet, and my sore knee, I was over it. I kind of wanted to scream…or cry. “I’m going to use up every single non-complaint on this hill right now!” I told Luke. “This must be how Todd feels when he has hiking madness!”
|It took a couple tries to get this without me laughing, but here’s my attempt at depicting my feelings about hiking.|
Luke was doing better than I was, but he sure wasn’t enjoying rolling his ankle with every step. No hiking madness for him, though; instead he did his best imitation of the thousand mile stare.
|This picture makes me laugh every time I see it.|
We had plenty of time to get back to the finish line before the cutoff, so we screwed around a little bit taking stupid pictures and then, spirits lifted, headed back the way we’d come….or did we?
“Wouldn’t it be funny if we were here laughing and being stupid and then took off the wrong way?” Luke asked. We both laughed at the thought and then he looked at his compass. Sure enough, we were hiking in the exact wrong direction. Crisis averted, we headed back to the finish line, breaking into a fake jog for the cameras.
|Photo credit: BonkHard Racing|
We made it back to the finish line with around 45 minutes to spare, so we got to watch a lot of the teams come through. It was nerve-wracking waiting for Bob and Casey and hoping they missed the cutoff finished well, but if you have to wait nervously to find out if you’re going down in flames, I highly suggest doing it with BonkHard’s awesome post-race food and good company.
Luke: Mmmm… Pulled pork… Mac & Cheese… Chili… Beer…
|Photo credit: BonkHard Racing
Casey, me, Luke, Kelly, Jason
Of course, what happens at the Lake stays at the Lake, but my face was sore from laughing by the time I went to bed, and the funniest exchange had to be between Casey and Bob. Ridiculous plans were being hatched for tormenting each other, and Casey asked, “What if I trained a bear to do it?”
“There’s a couple problems with that,” Bob replied, “First, if you find a bear, not cool if you bring it back here!”
Not cool at all. But a weekend hanging out with some awesome teammates? It doesn’t get a whole lot cooler than that.
You know those running shoes that are too worn out to run in, but feel oh-so-good to slip into because they, like your favorite pair of jeans, are broken in just perfectly? Well, they don’t make good trail shoes – especially on a wet, muddy, messy trail.. Trust me on this one.
Robby, Bob, Christina, and I headed to Lost Valley Trail in Defiance, MO where we met up with Drew and a bunch of other crazy trail runners for Rock Racing’s SHivering Icy Trail Run (or SHITR for short). This was a half marathon in the middle of winter at night. Sounds awesome, right?
It wasn’t until I got there when I realized that I had forgotten my trail shoes… And my Garmin watch. But the Virtus Code wouldn’t allow me to sit this one out, so I ran in my crappy Nike Free’s. But oh what a run it was!
The cold and wind seemed to cut right through us as we stood around waiting for the race to start. People weren’t sure what to wear. One nut ran shirtless. Others were decked out in full winter garments. I chose to run in tights, a t-shirt with a long-sleeve shirt over it, a winter hat, and glittens (glove-mittens). Bob decided to wear this (although later he through a fleece on over the top):
Unfortunately, Bob would have to part ways with at least one piece of clothing by the end of the night. Don’t worry… I’ll get to that. Have a little patience.
We started the race by heading out to the top of “The Mound” as it was just starting to get dark. The wind at the top was ridiculous, so none of us stayed up there more than a few seconds. On the way down, I absolutely FLEW by the best runner on our team: Drew. Don’t believe me? Take a look at this video (courtesy of Robin Rongey from Rock Racing) at the 3:02 mark:
In case you couldn’t tell, the only reason I passed Drew was because of gravity. I got going a bit too fast, and I couldn’t stop. So I just went with it, and like an out of control snowball tumbling faster and faster, I flew down the stairs and almost died. It was probably the first and last time I’ll be ahead of Drew in a foot race. And don’t worry. He passed me shortly thereafter.
Before long, we had to turn on our headlamps. The rain picked up as the temperature continued to drop. Soon we were on some single-track. By the time I got there, the trails had become a slippery, muddy mess. And it was awesome! I’m not sure trail shoes would have helped much, but my shoes were worthless. I felt like I was skating more than I was running.
Somewhere in that muddy mess, Patrick from the 100+ Project and Russ (from Alabama I think) caught up to me. Their company was much appreciated as we ran together for awhile. The temps continued to drop, and the rain became more of a sleet/rain/snow mix.
It was dark. It was cold. It was raining/sleeting. It was muddy. It was slippery. It was terrible. Just terrible. And I was loving every minute of it.
Before long, we found the mystery event. We were supposed to find the name on a tombstone. Patrick and Chuck had done a good job of marking the tiny cemetery with reflective tape, so it was pretty easy to spot. Reading the name on the tombstone in the dark, however, proved to be more of a challenge. Patrick already knew the name, so he couldn’t help us. As we tried to make out the writing, Robby Brown caught up to us. Then Russ’s headlamp hit the stone sideways which provided enough shadow-relief that we could read “Caroline L.”
Even stopping at the tombstone for a few minutes caused our body temp to drop significantly. So we quickly trotted off again. I’m not sure who started it (‘Bama Russ maybe?), but someone in our group began singing “Sweeeeeet Caroliiiine.” And all of us chimed in “Bah, bah, bah!” It was a fabulous rendition that surely would have made the great Neil Diamond proud. And you’re welcome for getting that song stuck in your head.
The rain had fully converted to sleet by now, and it was VERY cold. I decided to pick up the pace a little just to keep warm. Patrick was right behind me, but Russ and Robby had fallen off the pace just a bit. This section wasn’t quite as muddy, but there was one small incline which was super-slippery. As my front foot hit the slope, it completely slipped out from under me. I was able to catch myself with my glitten-covered hands, but my foot flew up behind me and almost nailed Patrick in the face. It was a close one, but we both made it out unscathed.
Soon we found ourselves back on the double-track which meant we were getting pretty close to the finish line. I was tired and cold, but Patrick kicked it up a notch. I too picked up the pace to stay with him. Then we ran into Jim and Janie Smith from Team TOG and Monster Bicycles. They were walking the short-course… In the dark and cold and mud and wet. Very cool.
Patrick stopped to walk and chat with them. As much as I wanted to, I was just too damn cold. I said hello and good-bye and just kept running. I climbed the last hill by myself, and as I turned on the last stretch just a mile or so from the finish line, the wind just punched me in the face. It was brutal out there. Even though I was having a blast, I was glad that it was almost over.
Then I heard some weird noises. It sounded like a woman yelling. So I slowed to a walk to listen. It was indeed a woman yelling, so I ran ahead to see what was going on. No one was in sight, but there were lights through the trees to my left. After bushwhacking through a small block of brush and trees, I was on a small road. There was a woman yelling, “Jeff! Where the hell am I?!? What the hell am I going to do?!?” She seemed a little scared and quite pissed. Then I realized that it was Carrie Sona from Team Alpine Shop. She had gotten a bit turned around and off the trail, so we ran it in together until she saw her husband Jeff coming back for her.
They slowed to a walk, so I just kept running to the finish. I couldn’t believe there were still volunteers at the finish to welcome me in and hand me an awesome SHITR sticker. HUGE thanks to the volunteers out there! I finished in 2:36. Drew had finished 16 minutes ahead of me, and Robby came in a few minutes behind me with Kate coming in about 10 minutes after him.
I was really cold, but I didn’t realize how serious these conditions were until I tried to get my keys out of my pocket. It took me a several attempts and a couple of minutes before I could get my fingers to work properly. Eventually, I hopped into the Virtus Van, cranked the heat up, and changed into gloriously dry, warm clothes.
As I slowly started getting warm, I began to worry about Bob. This was his first half marathon – his longest run ever at that point I think. Temps has fallen close to freezing by now, and the sleet was unrelenting. The last thing I wanted to do was go back out in the nasty weather, but the longer I waited, the more worried I got. Fortunately, Bob made it in about a half an hour after Kate, and I didn’t have to go back out there.
It seems Bob was slowed down by some intestinal issues. Fortunately, our friends Chad and Bethany were with him to help him through this. He came over to the Virtus Van, but he wouldn’t get in. He had to be freezing his ass off, but he still wasn’t getting in. Why? Well, let me have him explain it in his own words:
For those that don’t know, Bob has some issues with pooping in the woods. He has a routine he likes to follow in the peace and quiet of his own bathroom. I, on the other hand, have no problem dropping a deuce behind a tree. So I’m always giving him hints and tips on how to shit in the woods properly, and to be more specific, how to wipe after taking care of business. So he finally followed my advice with success, but then… Well, I’ll let him explain it again:
So we had a VERY good laugh at Bob’s expense. Bob left his undergarments behind, got changed, and climbed into the Virtus Van. There were no casualties, and everyone made it out alive. We all headed to a local Mexican restaurant where we had beers, margaritas, tacos, and many, many laughs. Although none of us won the SHITR, one of us did win a prize – The highly-coveted SHITR Trophy.
It was a truly amazing night. Big thanks to Rock Racing and all of the volunteers! And don’t worry. This is happening again on January 11th, 2014! Get excited, people. And make sure you don’t miss this one!
Note: This report was written by Kate, with commentary added by Luke (in red), Bob (in green), Robby (in purple), and Travis (in orange). Since it’s the final installment of our Thunder Rolls trilogy, if you haven’t caught up yet you should probably take a moment to read up on parts 1 and 2.
Team Virtus had spent most of the race with our two teams — Kate/Luke and Bob/Robby/Travis — sticking together, but around 4:30 (??) we had gone our separate ways. Luke and I stopped running as soon as we were out of view of our teammates but maintained a fast hike because we were determined to get as many CPs as we could. Our primary goal was to clear the bike-o course; if we could do that, we’d evaluate how much time we had left and possibly go for one or two points on the next o-course before heading back.
All of this was heavily dependent on how well the next few hours went, though; the only thing certain was that we were going to leave ourselves plenty of time to get back. In fact, our personal cutoff time to be at the bikes gave us nearly twice the time it should take us to ride back. We were going to play it smart; the last thing either of us wanted was another frantic finish like at LBL. Our plan was solid.
Luke: There was NO way we were going to miss the cut-off. In fact, we modified our plan a couple of times to be extra conservative, thus ensuring we’d have plenty of time to finish the race.
Travis: I love the smiley face on Bob’s shirt. LOL.
The day had gotten pretty hot, and we were thankful that the temperature would soon start dropping from its midday peak. We headed into the woods after a short hike along the road. Following a reentrant to CP20, we found it with no problems. From here we made our way down a trail to a creek and stayed along it to a creek junction where CP19 was located. This was our attack point for the infamous CP17. The intel on CP17 was that it was hard to find. The team I’d run into at the pavilion had told me that they followed the creek from CP19 and that it looked on the map like the CP was on the right, but it was actually on the left. Armed with this knowledge, Luke and I set off up the creek. This walk in the park was… no walk in the park.
Luke: When the creek split, we stayed right as we looked to the left for the CP. We climbed through some SERIOUS shit. We were filthy, sweaty, and disgusting.
On a map, everything looks so cut and dried: Oh, just follow the creekbed until you come to the rock outcropping where the CP is. The reality is anything but. The creek was littered with downed trees, and the reentrant was lined with scrub so deep that you couldn’t see the sides. Looking for the rock outcropping in the clue for the point, all we could see was a wall of green. We hiked up the reentrant, trying higher and lower on the sides with no success.
Luke: I was getting pretty worried. After closer inspection of the map, we (“we” meaning “Luke”) noticed the CP wasn’t in the main reentrant like we originally thought. It was actually in a much smaller reentrant to the south of the main one. The circle that marked the CP on the map obscured the smaller reentrant, and it was difficult to see on the map. Once we figured this out though, we found CP17 pretty easily.
Luke: After conversing with a couple of teams that never found CP17, it was REALLY nice to find it.
From 17 we shot a rough bearing and headed up to the ridgetop and then down the biggest reentrant which led to the spur CP 15 was supposed to be on. We hit the wrong spur first but found it fairly quickly after some searching.
From 15, we headed down the creek and followed it to a park road. Stopping briefly so that Luke could mix up a bottle of E-fuel, we looked at ourselves in amused disgust. Though the temperature had slowly started to drop, the shade of the woods hadn’t provided quite the respite we’d anticipated. The nonexistent breeze combined with the heat and humidity to make our hike seem more like a trek through a tropical jungle. Our clothes were drenched and filthy; my hair was falling out of its braid and plastered to my sweaty skin. On one level I recognized how terrible I must look (and smell!), but I’ve never cared less about my appearance.
Luke: I’m pretty sure we’ve never been more disgusting in a race before. I was literally as wet or wetter than when we had been chest deep in the water heading into the cave earlier in the race. It was gross… And awesome.
Bob: You were pretty disgusting after the Berryman 36 with Drew. And the one with Casey. And then there was that time in the van when my window wouldn’t roll down.
Kate: They’re disgusting any time they’re in a vehicle. It’s like a point of pride with them.
We crossed the road and headed back into the woods and up a reentrant to find CP16. I was particularly happy to punch this one because this is where I’d mispunched CP24, so I was finally able to relax knowing we had them both (as long as I remembered to tell the volunteers back at the finish line about the switch). We climbed back down the reentrant and up to the road.
We could actually see CP18 from the road, so after a quick hop into the trees we were back on pavement and hoping to find a place to fill up with water. The road was long and steep, and I was pretty grateful that we’d left our bikes where we’d initially dropped them; it was hard enough to drag myself uphill. We followed the road to a trail/ridge junction. Luke shot a bearing that took us across a field before we dropped back into the treeline, and we followed a path pretty much right to CP30.
I had felt amazing all day long, but this section is where I started dragging. I’d been eating like crazy throughout the race, and I don’t think I had slacked off; maybe I did or maybe it was just the cumulative effect of 18 hours of racing. Whatever the reason, I was relieved when Luke “took his turn” at being the passport puncher since I’d been doing it all day. Of course, he’d been navigating all day, and I didn’t “take my turn” with the maps, but he had realized before I did that I needed a break. After smooth going all afternoon, the next couple of CPs took a little more searching (“helped” along by my spotting of a couple phantom checkpoints), but we found them. Naturally, we were trekking through fields of stinging nettle, and over and over again I was grateful that (this time) I’d listened to the guys about wearing pants. Because of my short sleeves, though, I spent a lot of time holding my arms out of harm’s way.
Luke: Stinging Nettle is the worst! I HIGHLY recommend some white sun-sleeves for summer racing. However, even with the sleeves, I still got stung.
Travis: Sorry Kate, I kinda feel like a jerk since I had two pairs of the white sun sleeves and I didn’t use either one of them. I don’t know why you didn’t have the other pair, especially since you had made mention about wanting them.
Kate: I think when I mentioned using them Bob spoke up too and maybe you didn’t want to play favorites. Yeah, let’s blame Bob.
Things were going well. Really well. We just had a few more CPs to go. Having cleared all of the points on this loop, Luke set a course back towards our bikes. Because I was still dragging at this point, rather than take Luke’s initial route over some hills we instead followed a trail up to a clearing. We emerged into another field and set a fast hike back to the bikes. We were just discussing whether or not this was a field we remembered from last year when we noticed someone running in our direction. We hadn’t seen another team since shortly after we’d split from our other half, so we waved happily at the runner. As she neared us, we realized it was Sue, one of the volunteers who we’d last seen some 16 (?) hours before at the ascending wall, and boy was she surprised to see us. ”What are you doing out here??” she asked.
“Ummm…racing?” The question wasn’t as weird as it seemed to us because there had been some confusion. Having seen the other Virtus team at the finish, a volunteer had reported that we were all in.
Robby: I don’t know how the teams got confused because we were totally different numbers?!?!?!
I guess we were the only team left in this section, and volunteers were taking the flags down from this area. As soon as she saw us, Sue got right on the phone with the other volunteers clearing the course, making sure that nobody tore down the CPs we were still chasing. Hiking away, we were almost giddy with relief. What were the chances that we ran into Sue out there? If we’d gone with our original route, we’d have missed her. How terrible would it have been if we were out there looking for CPs that had been pulled down? By blind luck, we’d avoided disaster and were still in the game. We had some light left, and just a few more checkpoints to clear the bike-o. We had this.
Luke: Phew! We caught a HUGE break there. We left Sue with high hopes of getting all of the CP’s we wanted to get before making it back to the finish line with plenty of time left.
Back at our bikes, we opted not to change into bike shoes. We were only riding a couple miles of paved road, and we knew we’d want trail shoes for the trek to our remaining CPs. We were willing to trade a little bit of pedaling efficiency rather than waste time repeatedly changing shoes or suffer by trekking in our bike shoes (no fun). In what seemed like minutes we were riding into our next attack point, where we ran into our friends from Orange Lederhosen …being lectured by a conservation police officer?
If you’re lucky enough to know these guys, it might not surprise you that they’d be on the wrong side of the law, but their “crime” was a little ridiculous. As we rode up, she was informing them that this part of the park was closed, that they had to know that because there were signs up all over saying the park closed at sunset (7:46 that evening). Being as it was a good four minutes past that at the time, we were in clear violation of the park rules. We’d been in the park for several hours, almost all of that time was off-trail and away from signs, and even if we’d noticed the signs, we’d have ignored them. We had the expectation that, since the race was there, we had permission to be there…an expectation shared by the race director and his permit.
Luke: As soon as this “cop” said that “sunset was at 7:46 today” I knew we were in trouble. She clearly has limited power and authority, so she has to really abuse the little bit she actually has. I mean, come on! Who actually looks up the exact time the sun sets? And who in their right mind would write a ticket a few minutes past this time?!? It was absolutely ridiculous! I was dumbfounded.
I clarified, “So just the South section is closed?” This wouldn’t be a big deal because we’d already cleared this section. Instead, everything except the campground section was closed. This cut us off from our two remaining CPs in the North section and our planned route back to the finish. Just like that, the officer had squashed our hopes of clearing the bike-o. We stood there in furious disbelief, but as she turned her attention back to the Lederhosen boys and started writing them a warning ticket, Luke and I decided to slip away before she gave any more thought to us.
Luke: I went from being dumbfounded to pissed in a hurry. But I didn’t want to have to fight a bullshit ticket from 6 hours away, and I DEFINTITELY didn’t want to pay a bullshit fine for a bullshit ticket written by a stupid, bullshit rent-a-cop. Talk about having the wind taken out of your sails! This was a crushing blow.
We rode away in angry silence. We’ve weathered plenty of adversity in races — a fight between teammates, mechanicals, debilitating leg cramps, a yellow jacket attack, missing meds, and terrible ascents to name a few — and those kind of things are all part of the package. This was different. This was something from outside the race interfering. This wasn’t fair (stomps foot and pouts). One of the cool things about adventure racing is that you don’t necessarily have to be fast; strategy and perseverance come into play, and sometimes if you don’t quit, you end surprising everyone by a come from behind division win. Now, despite our good plan, successful navigation, and carefully budgeted time, the “don’t quit” option was gone. There were still three CPs we could get in the campground section, but I think for a while we could both have easily said fuck it, let’s just go back. But we didn’t.
Luke: I haven’t felt this low in a race since the Phantom Cut-Off fiasco, but this was different. The Phantom Cut-Off was because of an incompetent, asshole race director. This time, our hopes were crushed by an overzealous, idiot conservation “cop.” And Kage is right. I easily could have said, “Fuck it. I’m done.” But that’s not the Virtus Hhhhway.
We got the closest two remaining checkpoints, stopped to talk to another team, and then crossed paths again with the Lederhosens as we rode towards CP 34, the transition area. There, the volunteers told us Gerry was directing teams to take the short way back (our intended path) - because most teams would not make it back in time going the long way. Being as we’d just encountered an officer who had told us in no uncertain terms that we weren’t allowed to be in that part of the park — and that as an oldest child and a teacher I’m a born rule-follower — that didn’t work for me. (And the “cop” had already seen us and spoke with us, so we were pretty sure she wouldn’t just let us off with a written warning if she caught us “breaking the law” again.) In the end, we were directed to take the longer route back to the finish line. The volunteers warned us that teams were averaging 3.5 hours for the trip back, which was particularly unfortunate because we had less time than that before the midnight cutoff.
Since we had never planned to take this route back, we hadn’t plotted it on our map. While Luke painstakingly made out the numbers on our sweaty, smeared race booklet, I ate, drank, and waited. I’ve learned that hurrying your navigator doesn’t save time when it causes them to make mistakes, so tried to keep my impatience at a minimum. I’ve also learned how important it is to take care of your teammates — heaven knows they’re always checking if I’m eating and drinking — but somehow I never thought to check to see if Luke needed anything or make sure he ate something. This would prove to be a significant oversight.
Luke: I was so focused on plotting and planning our route (which was difficult since there were 5 or 6 maps involved), that I guess I forgot to eat or drink anything other than half of a Monster energy drink.
We rolled out of the TA at 9:15. Two hours and forty-five minutes to ride a route that was apparently taking many teams considerably longer. Oh, the irony…despite our good intentions we were once again racing our bikes to avoid missing a cut-off. We turned onto the highway in front of the park, and I immediately felt exposed and nervous. I don’t so much mind riding my bike on gravel in the dark because cars are few and far between; riding a busier road at night is scary because, despite our headlights and red blinky taillights, drivers really aren’t looking out for bikes in the dark (full disclosure: despite my big fear here, I think maybe only one car actually passed us on this road). As is typical with these guys I race with, always putting themselves between me and danger whether it’s an oncoming dog or potential traffic, Luke rode behind me on the highway.
Pedaling fast, because I really was scared here, I was for once having a little trouble with the chivalry. He has four young children, two of my kids are grown adults…if one of us is going to get killed it should probably be me…he’s so much younger than I am… Yeah, what can I say? My internal monologues can be a little dramatic. (I wasn’t being chivalrous, I was trying to draft off you.) Thankfully, we made it onto the gravel without incident, except that as I flew down the road I realized I’d lost Luke, who’d had to stop to roll up the pant leg that kept catching in his chain.
Back together, we made our way to the first CP on the bike leg back. Luke checked the maps while I punched our passport. Another team was there at the same point, confused about a course change that they apparently hadn’t heard in the race meeting, so Luke got them straightened up about that. As they rode off, his headlamp started flashing, so I pointed my light so he could get the batteries changed. Because I’m always the slowest team member on the bike, I started riding while Luke finished putting his old batteries away. ”I’m going to go ahead since you’re going to pass me in a minute anyway!”
I rode in the direction he’d told me, pretty quickly coming alongside the other team and then, though I was sure they’d be zooming right by me again in a minute, passing them. We never saw them again. The hill seemed to go on forever, but I felt weirdly good for the first part, almost like I was riding on flat ground. Eventually it didn’t feel good at all, but we still managed to ride the whole thing.
Luke: This hill was effing ridiculous! It… Just… Kept… Going… I was proud to see Kate fly by the other team and completely smash them up that hill, but I soon realized that I was starting to fall behind and really starting to hurt.
Luke’s navigation was dead on, and we found the next CP with no problems. I had to climb a little hill at the intersection to punch the passport, and Luke looked over the maps. Orange Lederhosen pulled up as we were about to roll out. With a downhill ahead of me, I left before Luke. The guys are all way braver on hills than I am, so any head start would just lessen the amount of time he’d be waiting at the bottom for me. The Lederhosens caught up with us again during this section, and we all pulled over at one point so that Luke and Derrick could look over the maps and make sure we were going the right way. Course confirmed, we started back again, climbing yet another ridiculous hill. At one point Sheldon and I were riding towards the front, but then they were gone and it was just Luke and me again. And then it was just me.
Because my bike handling sucks, I have a hard time checking behind me to see who’s there, and I didn’t realize that Luke was gone. Bob and I always have to laugh in races, because while we’re dying at the end Luke and Casey just seem to get stronger. You’d almost hate them if they weren’t dragging your ass to the finish. Given this past experience, I kept expecting Luke to come flying up, but looking behind me on a hill his light was way back, so I got off and started walking, waiting at the top. When he got there, he looked grumpy, and I assumed he was irritated with me for getting ahead like that…which was a dick move, or would have been if it had been intentional. It wasn’t, of course, but I should have been more aware of where my teammate was.
Luke: I wasn’t pissed at Kate at all. In fact, I was proud of how strong she had been all race and especially proud of how super-strong she was on this last bike leg. I was just hurting and trying not to puke. I had nothing left in my legs, and I couldn’t eat or drink. It sucked. Plain and simple. And she’s too modest to say how much stronger than me she was this late in the race. She was an animal! Seriously. I’ve never seen her stronger.
Kate: He’s right. It was crazy and wonderful. I have no idea where it came from…maybe it was the Pop-Tarts.
I think I assumed he’d had to fix his pant leg again or wrestle with the maps, but after this pattern repeated itself a couple more times I finally realized there was something wrong. ”Are you ok?” I asked.
“I’m bonking bad,” he answered.
Now I felt like a total asshole. Here I’d been, happily (ok not happily…those hills sucked) riding along, not realizing that my partner was hurting. And now that I did know, I didn’t know what to do. Food was making him sick, so he could barely force anything down; I didn’t think I could ride with both of our packs on, so that wasn’t an option. We were so short on time that we couldn’t afford to sit down and regroup, and I can’t cheerlead someone out of a bonk. In retrospect, it might have helped a little to switch bikes so that Luke could ride the one with the smoother tires, but trading his nice 29er for my heavy 26er might not have been any better. The only thing I could do is what I should have been doing all along: stick with my teammate. So that’s what we did, riding hill after hill until finally we made it to the finish line, 9 minutes past the cutoff.
Luke: Even with me bonking and being the weak link, we managed to finish that bike leg in just under 3 hours. Not bad in hindsight, but as we turned onto the final road leading to the finish line at Camp Benson, it was crushing to see my watch hit 12:00 and know that we had missed the cut-off.
I know Luke had a hard time mustering a smile for the camera, but unranked finish or not, I loved every moment of this race. We had some major ups and downs, but we came through them all as a team. And speaking of team, despite their threats to be sound asleep when we got back, our awesome teammates were there cheering as we arrived, taking our bikes and bringing us food (and even going back to the cabin so I could have diet soda instead of regular…thanks Travis!).
Luke: I was still trying not to puke, but I too loved everything about this race (other than super-”cop” of course). Aside from my bonk at the end, I think it was one of the strongest performances we’ve had. And big thanks to the rest of our team who took great care of us at the finish line.
Travis: Being there for you friends or team mates is what Team Virtus is all about, and that is why I am proud to be a part of this team. I sat anxiously awaiting your arrival, watching my clock, chewing my fingernails, no nevermind that is gross, pulling my hair out, or not. I just wanted to see you guys make the time cut-off that I knew you were working so hard for.
24 hours and 9 minutes of racing together and we were still on speaking terms. Because Luke and I finished after the midnight cutoff, we weren’t ranked in the standings. We missed 20 CPs; the team that won our division finished way before us missed 18. Had we been able to get the 2 CPs in the forbidden North section and then picked up the one in the campground section we skipped AND gotten back to the finish on time by taking our planned route back, we’d have won our division. Sometimes you aim high and miss, but I still couldn’t be prouder of our race.
Luke: As my Dad has always said: “If the dog hadn’t stopped to take a shit, he’d have caught the rabbit.” Normally, I believe that statement, but not in this case. Our plan would have worked, but because of circumstances beyond our control, our plan had to be altered. So in this case I’ll modify it to this: “If the dog hadn’t been unjustly harassed and threatened by an egomaniacal, power-hungry, overzealous rent-a-”cop”, then he definitely would have caught the rabbit.”
On the other hand, not all of our team was struck down by the midnight cutoff. Because other teams in their division finished late, Bob, Robby, and Travis took third place! Now, my mom would say we’re all winners, but Luke and I don’t have a fancy piece of paper to prove it.
Luke: Nice work, fellas! Way to represent the team! Strength and Honor!
Bob: Oh, the irony. I’ll never forget Robby’s reaction. “What!?!? Oh, shit! Do we get a certificate or something?” It was hilarious. We had a lot of fun celebrating our “victory” and drinking as many free cans of Samuel Adams’ delicious Oktoberfest beer. And that, my friends, is a level 10 smile on MC Hammons’s face.
Robby: My reaction may have been influenced a bit by the Samuel Adams, but I was super pumped!
Travis: I don’t remember who came and told us that we had won third place, but I had seen our name on the board earlier and just assumed that it was some kind of cruel joke, -50 checkpoints yeah right that is not a third place ranking, but I guess it was.
Robby: The WINNING team’s trek back was a lot more uneventful. When we split ways, we were done. BUT we still had the bike leg back to camp. We spun up the hills and I struggled on my SS. Bob and Travis climbed those with ease and I did have to walk a bit on one of the long steep hills. As we were a few miles from camp we came upon a team hanging by the mile high corn. We stopped to check on them and one guy was seriously hurting. He couldn’t eat or drink and was doubled over and moaning in pain. Travis went right to work with his medical skills and got him in the shade. We found a rag in one of our packs and got it soaked in water which went right around the guys neck and head. We all offered him drinks and food and I think he finally choaked down some gatorade or something. After getting the guy better and having them call for sag, we made the few mile trek back to camp.
We finished knowing that we were out of the money a long time ago, but I was very proud of how far we came given the days events. We brought Bob back from the dead. We stayed together as a team and made decisions together. We picked each other up and got stronger throughout the day. I was proud of what we had become, proud of the obsticales we overcame, and proud of how we perservered.
Bob: I felt pretty bad about my performance on the ascending wall, but I think it’s worth mentioning again that no one ever gave me shit about it. The only negative comments were the ones in my head, and I’m infinitely grateful for that. I’m also grateful for how tolerant and forgiving you were as far as carrying my stuff and taking it easy while I got back up to speed.
Kate: That’s what a team does!
Travis: This race definitely had its highs and lows, but I am proud of what we did accomplish. Bob overcame a giant obstacle and pushed on to complete a lot more of the race than most people would have after the ascending incident. Robby did an awesome job on his first 24 hr race, and Luke and Kate pushed to the very end just as they wanted to do. And Robby and I both had our first rappel and ascent.I wouldn’t change a thing except to be a little stronger and faster. I do wish that as a whole team we would have gotten to do a little more navigation on foot, but unfortunately that did not happen. Oh and one more thing……. The morning following the race I came to a rather sad realization. I was gathering up my gear to pack into the Virtus van and emptied my camelbak which still had water in it. No big deal considering that everyone filled up whenever necessary, except for one thing: I never refilled mine. I went the entire race on less than 100 oz of water, one bike bottle of Gatorade and a monster energy drink. In hindsight a critical mistake that somehow went unnoticed by me and my teammates. You have to stay hydrated to feel good and I did not. But every race has a lesson to learn, sometimes it is one you have already learned before.
We all slept in as much as possible the next morning and then loaded up for home. I know I was a little sad. After a year of anticipation and excitement, it was over. Another 365 days of waiting seemed like way too long, and I don’t think I’m the only one who’d go back and do that race again tomorrow, with the exact same people, if it was possible. And since it’s not, at least there are only 6 more months til Adventure Camp!
Travis: Dirty Kanza is the only other race that by the next day I was already counting down the time till next year, until this race. I have every intention of going back next year, and maybe even adventure camp. I already said something to Crystal about it, she did sound slightly interested. =)
Robby: The rumor mill is that the Virtus Ladies may make an appearance at the Adventure Camp?!?!?! Time will tell….
Luke: Big thanks to Gerry Voelliger and ALL of the amazing volunteers for putting on one of the hardest, most memorable races I’ve ever done. The Thunder Rolls is a race that should be on everyone’s calendar every year. Don’t miss it!
**Editor’s note: if you haven’t read part 1 yet, go get caught up. It’s ok…we’ll wait….Ready? This race report was written by Kate with commentary by Luke in red, Bob in green, Robby in purple, and Travis in orange. Any of my replies are in blue.**
It was a subdued group that left the ascending area. Remember that because this is an expedition-style race, a team’s last consecutive CP determines their score (as long as they beat the cutoff). The rules stated that everyone must ascend. Since neither Bob nor Travis (who’d stayed with him) had done so, we knew there was a possibility that their race, standings-wise, was already over. Regardless, we were almost certainly in last place at this point, but none of us cared. Our only concern was for our friend. Bob was exhausted and shivering, even bundled in his jacket, and I wouldn’t have wanted to be inside his head at that point. “Demoralized” would be putting a positive spin on his mental state. He wanted nothing so much as to quit, which, of course, is why we couldn’t let him.
Robby: Don’t I just feel like an ass for doing the ascend! I knew Travis was taking care of Bob and he is far more experienced with patient care than I am. Just to be clear that right after I ascended, I rushed to Bob’s side.
Luke: I was happy to see that Robby ascended. How often do you get the opportunity to ascend a huge cliff at 2:00 AM? Bob was in good hands.
Travis: Robby did the right thing by going ahead with the ascend. I just was doing what comes naturally to me and that was taking care of the man that was down.
Bob: I wouldn’t have known or cared either way. I’ve never been so happy to be laying on a pile of rocks in all my life.
Bob has this line that has stuck with me through a lot of difficult times: “Just remember how good the story wouldn’t be if it ended ‘It got hard and then we quit.’” I’m sure he appreciated having it turned against him, but to quit now would mean that the failed ascent was the story of the race, not just one bad chapter. Things looked bleak to be sure, but 24 hours is a long time, and anything can happen.
Bob: I needed an attitude adjustment pretty bad. Going balls-deep in a cold creek wasn’t exactly the cure, but it was an excellent distraction.
Looking to avoid bigger climbs while Bob recharged, we spent a lot of time walking in the river. That’s ok, we were starting our coasteering leg early. Walking hills might have made it easier for Bob to warm up, though. The night had cooled off, and every time we paused for a map check his shivering went up a notch. He looked miserable.
CP 6 was in a cave. The guys ahead of me seemed to climb up the wet rocks with no problem, but I kept slipping back until Bob put his knee up for me to use as a step. This year the CP was tucked in a side channel instead of way at the back of the cave like last year. One by one we ducked bats and squeezed through the narrow passageway to punch our wristbands and then slipped back out into the water.
Robby: This was an AWESOME CP. I started to explore the cave further by myself, but my light started blinking low battery. This freaked me out going back by myself while others punched their wristbands, so I only went back 100 ft or so. Still, TOTALLY AWESOME!
It seemed like we spent a lot of time in the water on our way to CP 7, and that was because we’d missed it.
Travis: The entrance to the reentrant was none too obvious, but with Luke and I both watching our maps we probably should not have walked right by it the first time. Of course right around this time there was another team that passed us. I wonder where they went because it seems that they went up on the bank across from CP 8.
We realized our mistake right near CP8, which was up a cool, slippery rock creek bed. CP 7 was up (in a Gerry race, almost everything is UP) a re-entrant jammed with fallen tree trunks and branches. This section reminded me of a jungle gym, and I had a blast climbing my way up. I had so much fun that I climbed down that way too, while the guys opted for a steep downhill instead.
Robby: I really struggled on the felled-tree-climbing-uphill-jungle-gym. Kate flew through the tree and I could hear the smile on her face. I was sweating and out of breath. I was glad to get to the top in one piece and coming down was a blast. It was very VERY steep and I basically slid down the hill on my wet ass.
We looped back again, passed the turn for CP8, and were now officially in the coasteering section. Since we’d spent much of the last couple hours in the water, it wasn’t much of a change. Walking in a river at night is always tricky, but I didn’t think it was nearly as bad as last year when the water was deeper, the submerged rocks made the footing fairly treacherous, and almost all of us fell into the water more than once. This year seemed smoother. Still, after a couple hours we were all sick of walking in water and especially of having our shoes full of sand and rocks. I was starting to get a headache, so I was relieved when the sky lightened just enough that I could take off my headlamp. In fact, I was still holding it in my hand when I fell.
I just tripped really, but I haven’t had much range of motion in my left knee since falling in Kansas last year and my knee bent all the way closed. Wow, did it hurt. I tried to stand up quickly but fell back into the water. Luke, who was closest, ran back to help me out of the water. We all just stood there for a minute until I realized that my knee, though sore, could still bear weight. I took some ibuprofen and we got going again. My pace definitely dropped here because I was limping and afraid of tripping again. The guys offered to carry my pack, but I felt better holding onto the straps. Still, there were quite a few times I gladly accepted one of their arms to steady me, even if I did me feel like a grandma being helped across the street by a boy scout.
Robby: All I heard was “Ouch, Ouch, Ouch!!!!” and when I turned around Kate was in the water. She really tried standing, but fell back in and just laid there till Luke came to her aid.
Luke: I saw Kage fall, and when she hopped right back up only to have her knee buckle under her, I thought our race was over. Good thing she’s been taking calcium supplements.
Travis: Just prior to Kate falling was also when Bob took a misstep and tumbled down the edge of the bank. Once I saw Kate go down all I could think was ” What else could go wrong?” It seemed that we were doomed for something to end our race.
We were all happy to get to CP9, where we could finally get out of the water. After taking some time to get some food we had a mile or so to go to the canoe put-in. It was flat road, and originally I had envisioned jogging between points. I now hoped no one else had that brilliant idea. Since they didn’t, we had a nice sunrise stroll between fields and a discussion about what corn silk looks like with a nice visual from Luke.
Robby: I got really cold through this section. Thanks to Bob for letting me wear his arm warmers.
Luke: At least the carpet matched the drapes.
WTFAR’s Brian was volunteering at the canoes, and since he’s twelve feet tall we could see him in the distance and waved wildly. As we neared, his bell-like voice rang out in the morning air: “Where the hell have you been????” His confirmation that we were, in fact, in last place was a little demoralizing, but the double-stuffed oreos in his hand perked us up, as did the opportunity to dump all the crap out of our shoes. We ate, grabbed one of the 7-ton canoes, and put in to the Plum River.
Luke: It was really great to see Brian’s smiling face. And it was even greater when he handed me not double-stuff Oreos, but MEGA STUF Oreos! Sooooo damn good!
Travis: It was amazing how seeing Brian’s big dumb face could somehow brighten all of our spirits. LOL.
We turned around to have a good view of Bob, Robby, and Travis as they tipped their canoe, but they totally let us down with an incident-free launch.
Luke: Very disappointing indeed. Brian could have gotten some great shots of them dumping their canoe.
Travis: With our combined experience there was no way we were dumping our boat, especially not in front of everyone.
Bob: I’m still amazed at our paddling success.
We had been warned that we’d hate the canoe leg and had envisioned dragging our boat for miles through rocky water. Instead, the paddle was delightful.
Luke: After the coasteering section where the river was very low, I was absolutely dreading the paddling leg. No offense to Kage, but her upper body strength isn’t exactly one of her, well…strengths. (So true.) I figured I’d be dragging the canoe for 9 miles by myself. I was stoked to see a floatable river.
There were all kinds of branches, snags, and trees down in the water, so I imagine navigating these obstacles was a bit trickier at night. For us it was downright fun and broke up the monotony of the three-hour tour. Approaching the first big tangle, we paused to consider our options. The first of the twelve-hour teams passed us at this point, one opting to portage (getting their boat over the steep bank looked way hard) and the other attempting to get into the water to push their boat through…and discovering it was fairly deep. Neither alternative looked particularly appealing, so we opted to plow through and actually ended up beating the portage team to the other side. Score one for laziness!
Luke and I paddled on, expecting the three guys in our other canoe to easily catch us, but we didn’t take into account that their fully loaded canoe wasn’t going to skim over some of the blockages like ours. Though we occasionally got updates on them from passing canoes (all of them 12-hour racers), we never saw them again until the take-out. We soldiered on, Luke deftly steering our canoe around obstacles despite my less than clear and decisive directions: “…um…left?….um…there’s a….log?…on our….oops, sorry…yeah, that was it…”
Luke: The more we paddled, the more confident Kate became calling out directions, and even though we were paddling at a nice, leisurely pace, we became a pretty efficient team.
The longer we paddled, the more determined we became not to get out of our canoe until the end of the leg, a sentiment bolstered by the development of our “seated portage” technique…basically taking obstacles at speed, scooting over them using synchronized hip thrusting, and pushing or clawing our way forward when necessary. We laughed a lot. Eventually, however, the seated portage met a logjam it couldn’t overcome.
Luke: Kate originally called our hip-thrust-and-push-and-claw-maneuver a “self portage.” When I pointed out that all portages in an adventure race are in fact done by ourselves, we decided to go with the more accurate “seated portage.” Our seated portage worked wonderfully. That is until we hit this:
Though it doesn’t show in the picture, a lot of teams portaged along the bank to the left. The bank was sloped, with shin-deep mud and a tree over which the canoe would have to be lifted. Seems like I’m always the vote against portaging, and this was no exception. A team in front of us tried climbing out of their boat to push it through the tangle of downed trees and promptly sank in past their shoulders. Another team managed to get their canoe across by standing on some of the logs, and this is the strategy that got my vote.
Luke wasn’t sure about the wisdom of this plan, but despite his clear doubt my teammate was willing to give it a try. I had no idea how we’d actually do it without tipping and couldn’t have gotten out of the canoe without Luke steadying it, but we both managed to climb onto the log pile. Then it was just a matter of picking our way across floating logs, standing on the stable ones and steadying ourselves on branches as we pushed and dragged the canoe over the blockage. It was ridiculously fun, and we were ridiculously proud of ourselves as we paddled away without capsizing. This goes down as my favorite canoe leg of any adventure race.
Luke: I would have voted to portage around it, but I am easily swayed. Going through the trees instead of around definitely sounded more fun, and it didn’t disappoint. Some logs would sink when we stepped on them, others would spin. It was a blast!
Travis: Our paddling leg was definitely not as enjoyable as Luke and Kate’s. After they slid through the first big log jam we attempted to take the same route only to discover that our boat was running a little lower in the water than theirs. Bob jumped out to help guide us and discovered that the water was about chest deep. Bob seemed to instantly feel rejuvenated after entering the water and happily pulled us through as well as another boat of 12-hour racers, they eventually went on to win their division and set a new course record. Bob then climbed back in for a while, but the rest of paddle involved him getting out a few more times, and our boat getting hung up on what seemed to be every log in the river. We couldn’t seem to float over anything without getting stuck. While our portage was not as cool as our team mates at this biggest log jam of all, we did successfully avoid the majority of the mud while sliding our boat over the logs. Pretty much every corner after this Bob would say ” Hey I think I see a bridge, no never mind I guess not,” and so forth.
Bob: There was just something about that river water that got my head turned back around. Pushing and pulling boats through the logjams was a total blast, but it was not without its dangers. More than once, my feet would get tangled in the branches under the water. I bet I was in and out out of the boat half a dozen times, but we never tipped. There were a few times we probably should have, though…we were doing some pretty stupid shit out there.
That’s not to say I didn’t spend the last hour of the paddle watching for the take-out, and Brian’s smiling face waiting for us was a sight for sore eyes.
We lugged our ridiculously heavy canoe up to the road, drank some cold Monster, ate, changed into shorts (and dry socks!! So glorious after 11 hours of wet feet) for the bike leg, and waited for the rest of our team. They didn’t look too cheerful when they arrived. “You guys shouldn’t have waited for us,” Travis told me as they carried their canoe, and my heart sank a little. I wanted them to be having as much fun as I was.
Luke: The other guys definitely looked a little worse for wear. Like Kage, I had hoped their paddle was as fun as ours was, but it obviously wasn’t. Having 3 guys in one canoe makes for a rough paddling leg.
Travis: I was anything but happy at this point. Aside from Bob and Robby’s company that paddle leg was a suckfest on a shit river of logs and mud! I think the three of us knew at this point that Luke and Kate were feeling much stronger and could probably make much better progress through the course without us, but they didn’t care. Team Virtus sticks together and that is what I love about this team. In retrospect I also now know that I was already well into a downward spiral, making a critical mistake that continued throughout the day.
Bob: A quick sidenote for future portagers of yellow canoes: With a 2-piece paddle, Robby and I put the paddle-shaft through the pull handle and were able to share the weight of the boat. Also, dried mangoes are frickin’ delicious.
And I was having a blast. Sitting at the TA visiting and relaxing, I asked what time it was. Hearing it was 11-something I was delighted. “We still have over twelve hours of the race left!” I was dead serious, but Robby looked at me like I was a little crazy and Travis looked like he was considering which knife to use on me first.
Travis: I assure you, I am not a violent person, but for some reason my team thinks that I might just kill one of them someday.
People hear “24-hour race” and they think oh my gosh, that’s such a long time…and it is, but it really isn’t even the half of it. With Gerry’s races starting at midnight, you’ve probably been awake since five or six the previous morning. After getting to camp, there’s ropes practice and bike drops. Then there’s dinner and a pre-race meeting, maps and routes to figure out and gear to organize. If you’re lucky you might get to lie down for an hour, but basically by the time you’re finished with a 24-hour race, you’ve probably been going for nearly 44 hours straight. So while we were “only” about 12 hours into the race, we’d all been awake for much longer.
The bike leg was pretty uneventful other than missing a turn and riding a mile or two out of our way, but at least the day was beautiful, if warm, and before long we were pulling into Mississippi Palisades State Park and having a little pow-wow to discuss the remainder of the race.
Luke: I apologize for missing the turn. It looked like a driveway instead of a road to me, and we just blew by it.
Travis: I felt terrible when we realized we had missed a turn, mostly because I saw the road when we went by it and remembered that our turn should not be too far out of town. But I was too busy having my own little pity party to be following along on my map like I should have been.
Luke asked what everyone was wanting to do. I think Travis and Robby were ready for whatever but were leaning towards “whatever” not being a super long time. I wanted to hit the finish line at 11:59, knowing we’d done everything we could. I think this was the first time the possibility of splitting up was mentioned, but we opted to do a loop of CPs and then re-evaluate how everyone was feeling.
Travis: I was feeling very poorly at this point, but nobody ever wants to be the one that says lets just head on in and call it a day.
Kate: And I’m totally the pot calling the kettle black here, because I do the same thing, but we all need to be better about communicating with each other when we aren’t feeling well so that the team can help out whoever’s down.
We rode further into the park, left our bikes at a picnic area, explained adventure racing to a couple hanging out there, and then Bob took over on the maps. The topsoil in the park is so soft and loose that the many teams who’d already passed that way had created trails towards the CP. Determined to do his own navigation rather than follow in others’ footsteps, Bob took alternate paths where possible. I wasn’t a big fan of walking through nettle just on principle, but that’s why Bob’s navigation improves with each outing and I’m still lost on an orienteering map. Robby was following along on a map too and seemed to have a pretty good handle on where we were going. Me, I just followed my teammates like a lost puppy.
Luke: Robby is definitely getting a handle on navigation. It won’t be long before he’s our lead navigator. Bob rocked this section of the O-course.
Travis: Yes Robby definitely seemed to be understanding more about the navigation. I am glad I gave him the maps so he could follow along. And yes Bob rocked this section, though I think he was a little disappointed at the amount of traffic that had already been through the woods.
Bob: There had definitely been too many people through there for me to assume any kind of credit for finding those flags..except for the last one. That was all me, baby.
Kate: This team definitely loves the word definitely.
I think we found 5 CPs together in this section, with no navigational problems that I can remember but a lot of steep hills. By the last of these CPs, we were running low on water, and I’d been waiting a long time to use a real bathroom. Looking down the hillside we could see the park road and had hopes of facilities waiting at the bottom. While the guys waited in the shade, I jogged to a nearby pavilion to find the holy grail trifecta: flush toilets, air conditioned bathrooms, and cold water. As I filled my camelbak after using the facilities, a team I’d met at registration showed up. These guys had only recently heard of adventure racing; this was their first AR ever, and they were in for the 24 hour. Jumping in with two feet…our kind of people. I talked to them for a little bit, and they gave me some pointers on the hard-to-find CP 17.
Our two teams decided to split at this point. Robby’s extra batteries resurrected my camera, we all filled up on water and wished each other well, and then we were off. As we turned away, Luke whispered, “Let’s run,” and we dashed across the field laughing our asses off as our teammates’ groans and calls of “Assholes!” rang in our ears.
Luke: I think this was pretty much the only running we did, but it still makes me laugh just thinking about it.
Travis: It was kinda a show off move of running when leaving us behind, but at that point the three of us were just glad we weren’t the ones doing it.
Luke: It was completely a show-off move, and I assure you it was only for dramatic effect. We stopped running as soon as we were out of sight.
Will Luke and Kate clear the o-course and stage a come-from-behind victory? What will Bob, Robby, and Travis do after the two teams separate? Will Kate and Luke’s dick move of running away cause Travis to finally snap and make a skin suit out of Bob? Did anyone on the team get watermelon at CP34? Tune in next time for answers to these and other burning questions.
Note: This race report was written by Kate, with commentary by Luke in red, Bob in green, Robby in purple, and Travis in orange. My responses (if there are any) will be in blue because it’s my favorite color and I’m a bit of a diva like that. OK then…on with the show…
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, but not for all of us at the same time. If it’s true that a story of struggle and adversity is more compelling than one that dances from high point to high point, then you’re in for a treat. We may have set off for the weekend entertaining thoughts of glorious triumph (or at least a happy romp through Gerry’s house of pain), but we should’ve known it couldn’t be ALL rainbows and unicorns. After all, this was Thunder Rolls.
This year, Team Virtus fielded two squads for the 24 hour version of the Thunder Rolls adventure race: Luke and I on one, and Bob, Robby (making his first appearance in a 24 hour race), and Travis on the other. Even with two teams, though, the plan was always to stick together. ..once we got there, anyway. I made it to Camp Benson around 11:30, in plenty of time to visit with my volunteering buddy Brandy and snag a bottom bunk in the cabin. The guys rolled in a couple hours later, and once we were all registered and settled in the cabin, the first order of business was to get down to the ropes practice area. Travis and Robby would be rappelling and ascending for their first time, and I wanted to get in some practice.
Because we got to the ropes nice and early, there wasn’t much of a line (which is still plenty of time for me to get nervous). Our friends Dave and Woody were there so that Woody too could make his first rappel, and soon after we got there Chad and WTFAR’s Brian wandered down. We had a nice little reunion waiting for the ropes volunteers to have everything ready, Woody rappelled, and then it was our turn.
First Robby and then Travis made their first rappels and looked smooth and comfortable.
Luke: I must admit, I was both impressed and a little disappointed: Impressed with how easy they made it look, and disappointed that neither of them almost shit their pants like Bob and I did on our first first rappel a few years ago.
Robby: I was scared shitless, but didn’t want anyone to know I was frightened. Once I figured out what I was doing then it was pretty easy. The most scariest part was when the rock ended and I was left dangling.
Travis: The whole rappel and ascend were the two things that I was truly concerned about. But once I coached myself over the edge and got started down it was only mildly terrifying. Even with full finger gloves I was holding on with my left hand so tight that it was burning as I went down.
I was up next, and my reputation for cowardice preceded me as John remembered, “You’re not too crazy about heights, right?” Somehow backing up over that edge is way scarier in practice than in a race, but I managed it more quickly this time than at camp.
Bob came down next, and then it was time for us to ascend back up.
Robby: She actually did hit me. To bad we didn’t get a picture of me grabbing her leg.
Robby and Travis looked like old hands on their first try. Though I’d expected to be pretty comfortable after my additional practice back in March, I had a harder time than anticipated and needed coaching from John to get over the edge. The experience left me very nervous about the ascent in the race, particularly after my disastrous attempt last year. Since the line was so long, Luke and Bob opted to hike to the top rather than take time away from people who were getting their first ropes experience.
Travis: Once I got started I felt pretty comfortable going up, of course Bob may or may not have copped a feel of my ass in an attmept to boost me up the rope. And I was trying to catch up with Kate. =)
We said hi to Chuck and Robin at the top and then headed off to take our bikes to the bike drop. After about 15 trips back to the cabin for forgotten items, we finally crammed 6 of us and 5 bikes into the Virtus van for a hilarious (for most of us) and uncomfortable (for Brian and Bob) trip to Savanna.
We were able to leave our bike shoes and a stash of food and water with the bikes, eliminating the need to carry them with us for the first part of the race. By the time we got back, it was time for the pre-race dinner: pasta, salad, and bread sticks served family style on the table.
Finally it was the time we’d been waiting for: getting the maps and hearing about the course.
There weren’t many points to plot, so Luke took care of ours by himself (probably a good thing because my contacts had gone into open rebellion against my eyes and I could barely see) while Bob, Travis, and Robby went over their map.
The basic structure of the race was like this:
1. Midnight start with a short run to pick up the pre-plotted maps for our initial o-section, which would include both the rappel and ascend. The early ropes were kind of a good news/bad news situation. I was much happier to get ascending out of the way before I was exhausted from the race, but it also created the potential for a big bottleneck of teams waiting.
Robby: I was very nervous about the ropes sections after hearing Gerry ask how many had practiced. Then he said “That ain’t shit!”
Travis: My heart definetly sank after Gerry made the comment about the practice not being shit compared to what was coming in the race.
2. Coasteering leg (hiking down the river)
3. Short run (walk) to the canoes
4. Canoeing the Plum River (paddles, pfds, and food staged here)
5. Bike leg (bike shoes, water, and food staged here, climbing and paddling gear could be dropped here)
6. Bike-o at Palisades Park. You could ride your bikes on the park roads to get closer to attack the CPs on foot.
7. More orienteering on foot
8. Advanced course (it was pretty clear from the maps that we wouldn’t be experiencing this)
9. Mandatory bike route back
There was a lot of discussion about whether or not to bring extra shoes to change into after the coasteering leg. We could send dry shoes with our paddling gear and then change after we finished the canoeing. I kept going back and forth about what I wanted to do until Bob told Travis, “I’m taking my shoes because that’s what Luke is doing, and every time I don’t listen to him I’m wrong.” That decided me; there were three times in last year’s Thunder Rolls that I didn’t listen to Luke’s advice, and I regretted each one.
Luke: I think the main point here is I’m always right. It has nothing to do with the fact that I’ve made WAY more mistakes than everyone else.
Travis: I figured that Luke was probably right, but I also figured that my shoes would dry by the time I needed them, I did not take into account how much sand would in my shoes though.
Weirdly, we were all packed and ready in time to lie down for a little bit, if not actually sleep, and there was no last-minute rush (unless you count Bob and I having to lug Luke’s gear up to the start line). We dropped off our paddling gear, took some last-minute pictures, sang the National Anthem, and then at exactly midnight the race started and we wished Orange Lederhosen’s Kyle a happy birthday as we dashed off to pick up our map.
Thunder Rolls is primarily an expedition-style race, meaning you have to get each checkpoint (CP) in order and if you miss one, you’re done; scores are based on the last consecutive CP punched. This first section was a rogaine, though, where the points could be found in any order. Anticipating a logjam at the ropes, we’d discussed tackling the other points first, hoping to make some forward progress while other teams were waiting in line and then arrive at the ropes once the crowd died down. Looking at the map, we rethought this plan: it looked like a lot of doubling back would be required.
Our nav was spot-on for CPs 1 and 2. There was a bit of a line at the rappel (CP3), so we skipped ahead to CP5 which wasn’t too far away. Following a ridge that narrowed as we got closer to the CP, we came to what appeared to be the end of the ridge…but didn’t find the flag. There were steep drop-offs on three sides, and we could see lights below. Noticing that there was another rock outcropping just a bit further ahead, we made our way out to that one with some careful climbing. We ended up getting there about the same time as Alpine Shop and Wedali, and even though they’d already found an additional two CPs it was still really cool to be at the same spot as two top teams. Usually that only happens at the pre-race meeting.
Robby and I had the passports for our respective teams, and it was sketchy getting to the CP. We had to hang onto trees and swing out on the rocks because the flag was on the very top tree facing out. I was trying very hard not to think about how high and how exposed we were; it makes me a little sick to my stomach to think back about it now.
Robby: I was actually quite scared.
Luke: I believe there was a CP here at one of the Lightning Strikes races where we had to clip into a rope just to get on top of it before we could rappel. At TR2013 we had no ropes whatsoever.
Next up was the rappel, where thankfully the line had died down. We got our harnesses on and basically got right onto a line. Luke went first so he could belay me (for some reason no one trusts me to belay anymore) and made quick work of the rappel; then it was my turn. I gingerly backed over the edge to LE’s coaching and before I knew it I was standing in the river. This was my fifth rappel ever, and for the first time I loved it. I think all of my previous rappels have involved overhangs where my feet weren’t touching the rock. This time, Luke and I had a straight shot down a wall and I could just kind of walk my way down.
Over to our right Bob was belaying for Robby and then Travis.
Robby: I wasn’t very nervous here. For some reason, not being able to see the ground helped. The descent was a lot faster then practice though. It was pretty cool coming down in the river.
Travis: I was still pretty nervous about going down, but maybe that was just because the rope seemed like it had a lot of stretch in it as I leaned back to go over the edge. Or maybe because when you are rappeling your life is basically in your own hands.
The guys looked like they’d been doing this for years. Once we were all down, it was time to go around the corner to the ascending wall. There was a pretty good line waiting, and as luck would have it right in front of us were our friends (and cabinmates) Kim, Donovan, Chad, Chuck, and Robin. I felt pretty good that we were sticking right with them, especially since we actually were one CP up on them all at this time. And then I looked at the ascending wall and felt even better: “That’s it?“
Now, make no mistake…it was a big cliff, but it didn’t seem all that much bigger than the practice wall and I’d been anticipating something twice that size like last year. I knew I would still have a hard time, but I was really relieved that it wasn’t worse. When a rope came open, Bob, Robby, and Travis went first since there were three of them to get up their rope.
Bob started up line 4, and almost immediately things seemed off. He was struggling to make any progress. Ascending is exhausting when it is going well, and it’s debilitating when it isn’t. Now, Bob isn’t a pro climber or anything, but he knows what he’s doing. Remember, this is the guy who coached me up the wall at last year’s race when I had pretty much accepted that I was going to spend the rest of my life hanging off the cliff…and then zipped the rest of the way up with a smile while I collapsed at the top.
Now, it sucks to struggle at something, but there’s a whole added layer of frustration and confusion when you’re suddenly sucking at something you can do. And the icing on the shit cake was that this was all happening very publicly, in front of volunteers and other racers who were still in line, amid good-natured teasing and coaching that tapered off as it became clear that Bob’s predicament wasn’t at all funny.
Meanwhile, I had started up rope one, calling encouragement to Bob as I went up, and my ascent was going really well. It was the best of times and worst of times all at once. Everything was clicking, I was making good progress…and the irony was agonizing. My friend — my hero – was in the midst of one of the worst moments of his life, and I couldn’t do anything to help him.
I’ll let Bob take it from here…
I had decided to ascend before Travis and Robby in hopes of showing them that ascending wasn’t that hard. Sure, it’s exhausting..but as long as you think about what you’re doing and keep good form you’re ok. I had, after all, been successful at this before. The volunteer got me set up, and I started moving up the rope. I think I made it about ten feet up before I realized something, no.. everything was wrong. Ropes were twisted, ascenders wouldn’t move, muscles burned. What just happened?
Kate: Must’ve been a shit rope.
Travis: Even though I had pretty much zero prior experience I recognized right away that something did not look right. Whenever Bob would stop to rest it looked as if he let go of the rope that he would just flip upside down.
I’ve always prided myself on being level-headed, so I stopped for a moment to assess what was wrong. I tried to sit in the harness, but couldn’t stop myself from falling backward. Nothing made sense. I tried untwisting the straps to get things moving properly, but that didn’t work either. It was frustrating, and I was burning a ton of energy. We’d done so well to get to this point, and any gap we had on other teams was dwindling away quickly.
I tried to wrap my brain around what was happening, but came up with nothing. There were a lot of jokes and advice coming from the racers below, and I knew it was all well-intentioned humor, but the negativity just consumed me. I pushed and pulled and did everything I could think of to get up that rope, but it was obvious I wasn’t going anywhere. Chad climbed past me and tried to help…no dice. Minutes later, some other guy ascended past me and accidentally teabagged me…how appropriate.
I couldn’t begin to describe the level of shame, self loathing and exhaustion I felt on that rope. I’ve never tried that hard to do something and failed. Ever. I lost all my grip strength, so I had to hold the rope with the bends of my elbows. I tried to take my pack off, but it was twisted into my harness. The rock face was about 8 feet away, completely out of reach. The harness pinched the meat on my ass until it burned like fire, and I couldn’t feel my junk anymore…it was totally asleep. This was the lowest I’ve felt in many, many years. I don’t know how long I hung there, but I can tell you it was a long damn time.
When the other racers had come and gone, I was left to my own thoughts; none of them were good. As I wallowed in my gloom, Ron was suddenly on the rope beside me. Unaware that I’d completely given up, he was trying to coach me into ascending. We tried, but I was just completely spent. I’m not ashamed (anymore) to say I begged him to get me off the rope. To say I’d been humbled is a drastic understatement. Ron worked hard to get a rappel device set up, but even with that, I was too weak to get the ascender unhooked. I was no help at all.
Ron made the call to cut the loop. I didn’t give a shit anymore. If he’d have handed me the knife and told me to cut the rope and hope for the best, I was game. Robby and Travis held a tight belay on the rope below me and Ron did the knife-work. When the loop finally gave way, they lowered me to the ground and I just laid there in a heap. I think it was Travis who pulled my harness off.
Travis: Ron had called down for us to belay Bob, of course neither me or Robby really knew what we needed to do. So we just both got ahold and pulled down on the rope in hopes that Bob wasn’t going to come screaming down at us when the sling was cut. Once we got him down my only concern was getting his pack and harness off and restoring blood flow to his lower extremities. I knew he felt terrible and I knew that without some help there was no way he was going to get up off the ground anytime soon.
I didn’t want to quit, I was quitting. Of this, there was no doubt. I couldn’t breathe right, my stomach was spinning, I couldn’t lift my arms…continuing was simply not an option. I had completely ruined this race for the entire group.
Guilt. Shame. Failure. Inadequacy. Embarrassment. Pick a synonym for pathetic and multiply it by a thousand.
And now Ron and Luke are talking about how “there’s still a lot of racing left to do.” I would’ve laughed if I had the energy. Clearly these people don’t know what’s happening here. If I’d had my way, I would’ve been on an evac-chopper headed back to Holts Summit.
I knew I was about to puke, so I got to my knees. After a fair amount of burping and some “visualization coaching” from Luke, the vomit finally came. Several times, actually.
Finally done with that, Luke handed me a bottle of something to drink.
It was delicious, so I guessed that was a good sign.
Then they got me to my feet, and Travis shouldered my gear. I knew I’d never make it, but the rest of the team wasn’t taking “quit” for an answer and I owed to them to give it a shot. We were just gonna have to see how things played out. We lined up and made our way back onto the course.
Read on for Part 2…