Life Is An Adventure Race

by Jim Farmer (farmerjp@bellsouth.net)

“In the progress of personality, first comes a declaration of independence, then a recognition of interdependence.” - Henry Van Dyke

I’ve mentioned before that I grew up playing team sports and that the team concept of adventure racing was one of the main attractors for me. My affinity for team activities has something to do with the fact that I don’t do very well by myself. I admit it. I thrive on the social interaction and feedback I get from others. It’s just who I am. I not only get lonely, but I’ll work much harder and am more focused when other people depend on me. Given that, I have no clue what inspired me to go it alone in two epic races this summer, Adventure24 and the Ultra O-gaine, both put on by my buddies at CP Adventures. I think that part of it was the need to prove to myself that I could race competitively without depending on others to pull me through and part of it was simply to try something different. I’ve raced solo before, but never for 24 hours, the length of both of these endeavors.

Patricia Williams Smith and I joined up with my wife, Carol, and our friend Lynn Seeger for last years Adventure24, held in the Ocoee area in June. Despite doing this 24-hour AR for “fun”, we finished near the top and had a great time doing it. The addition of a solo category, plus the unavailability of my Team Rock Creek Outfitters teammates for this years race, planted seeds in my head of going it alone. The solo category soon heated up with the addition of Lee and Brenda Simril as well as another Chattanoogan, Andy Meyer. This would be no walk in the park. Luckily for me, Andy had something come up at the last minute that prevented him from participating, but I still had to contend with the two-headed Simril monster.

We got the maps and checkpoint coordinates just prior to the race start. I immediately knew that I was in trouble since most of the race would be on the bike and in the boat. My advantage over Lee and Brenda, if any, would be on foot. The first leg was running, but after that it would be bike, paddle, bike, paddle and then on foot again at the end. My plan was to build an early lead and then just stay within shooting distance of them until the last section. Going out too hard in a 24-hour race in sweltering heat was not the best idea I’ve had in a while. But that’s just what I did.

I had about a ten-minute lead on the Simrils and was just behind Team Snickers Marathon going into the first bike leg. Lee and Brenda, both strong cyclists and knowing the area like the backs of their hands, didn’t take very long to make up the time. I entered the Hiwassee River just a couple of minutes behind them and not far behind Snickers. It took about an hour for all of us to realize that going out too hard had even more negative consequences as we hit the front of the wave generated by the release at the Apalachia Powerhouse that morning. Dragging my kayak along the near-dry riverbed in the midday sun was not part of the overall plan and it quickly turned into a miserable slog. Although I had been drinking plenty of water and popping electrolyte tablets, I started to feel the effects of the heat and direct sunlight.

“The surest cure for vanity is loneliness.” - Tom Wolfe

I had passed the Snickers team on the last part of the river paddle, but Enduraventure had made up time and were right behind us. After a quick transition, I left the TA on my bike just 15 minutes behind the Simrils and head-to-head with the two teams. The trip from the 411 bridge on the Hiwassee to White Oak Mountain was one of those sections that navigators drool over. There were at least three route choices available, each with advantages and disadvantages. I chose a more risky route thinking that I had to roll the dice to keep in touch with Lee and Brenda. Unfortunately, I didn’t include into my calculations the fact that this route would require a short bikewhack up a steep hill and also have several sections that would expose me to the sun for a significant period of time. All of these factors contributed to my already growing state of heat exhaustion.

Despite downing copious amounts of water and forcing down food, Hammer Gel and electrolyte tablets, my energy level dropped precipitously and I noticed my stomach becoming more and more distended. This was not good. After knocking off the next checkpoint and continuing on the endless series of big roller coaster hills taking me south towards Kimsey Highway, I decided to stop at a creek crossing in an attempt to bring my core temperature down to a manageable level. The shock of the cold creek water as I submerged my body was just the trigger that my stomach needed to extricate its contents. The sight of the whole bits of food that I had consumed many hours earlier told me that my digestive system had shut down and I was not absorbing the nutrients I needed in order to sustain the effort.

I forced down some Hammer Gel, electrolyte tablets and water as I continued on at a snail’s pace along the gravel roads heading south and then west towards Parksville Lake. I was in a world of hurt as I limped into the transition area at the boat ramp on the lake. Jeramie Hoff, serving as my support guru once again, took great pleasure in my depleted state and death-warmed-over look. But hey, that’s what friends are for, right? The preconceived notions of victory were gone at this point and it was simply a question of whether I could finish what I started. A forty-five minute transition is less than ideal for an adventure race of this length, but I had to get my core temp down and make sure that my stomach was functioning again. The setting sun was a big relief as I put my boat into the lake intent on simply completing the several hours of paddling that lay ahead.

Adventure24 Transition Area 2: The agony of defeat

I felt good for the first two hours but the wheels started to come off once again as I entered the Indian Creek Inlet in pursuit of the next checkpoint on my list. I was doubling over in my seat as my stomach started to dance once more. The checkpoint flag was buried in the trees at the end of the inlet, so I gingerly made my way out of the kayak to find it. Trudging through the reeds, I finally found the orange and white striped orienteering flag in a clump of vegetation. The only problem was that I forgot to bring my punch card that would prove that I was there. In a state of malaise I worked my way back to the boat to retrieve the punch card. I once again made my way to the flag, realizing when I arrived that I had no idea which CP number this flag represented; therefore, I had no clue what number to punch on the card. Once again I sloshed my way back to the boat and looked at my map to determine the checkpoint number. The third time was the charm as I finally punched the card in the correct place and returned to my kayak. But I sat there in the shallow water with my arms and legs hanging over the sides of the kayak trying to cool down, knowing full well at this point that my goose was cooked, both physically and mentally.

I soft paddled back out of the inlet to the main channel near the dam. My gas tank was on empty and it was time to pull the plug. The only problem was that my cell phone, which was mandatory gear, had no coverage out there and I was several miles from the transition area. Luckily, Snickers Marathon was heading back out of the Baker Creek Inlet at the same time and I spotted their glowsticks and headlamps coming my way. I told Bill Fletcher to inform the race officials that I was toast and have Jeramie come pick me up at the Lake Ocoee Inn since it was just a mile or so away. I pulled my boat up onto the boat ramp at the Inn and got into my emergency blanket to wait on my ride. Despite temps in the low 80s that night, my depleted state gave me the shivers. One of my comments to Jeramie upon his arrival was, “So this is what it feels like to be a loser.” He got a good chuckle out of that one.

“There is no loneliness greater than the loneliness of a failure. The failure is a stranger in his own house.” - Eric Hoffer

I spent the next week or so feeling sorry for myself, but being an endurance athlete means that you have to forget the pain and suffering quickly. I had four weeks before the Ultra O-gaine and I needed to get my mental ducks in a row before tackling this beast. This race would not be an adventure race, since it had only one discipline, trekking. But it wouldn’t be a pure Rogaine, which is an orienteering event where you pursue as many checkpoints, of differing values, in a 24-hour period. The Ultra O-gaine would be something in between. But navigation and route choices, along with stamina and energy management, would be keys to success in this race. I had learned my lesson at Adventure24 and now it was time to redeem myself.

Pine Log Wildlife Management Area (WMA) is less than an hour north of Atlanta. Calling it rough country is an understatement. I knew that thick vegetation and steep ridgelines would be on the menu, but I didn’t expect a sadistic course director to be the chef. Patrick Bair, race director of the Double Dog Dare Adventure Race, had been placing checkpoint flags out in the woods for weeks prior to the event. He didn’t take the easy way out for sure. Patrick simply found the most overgrown, difficult to find spots in the WMA and then placed the flags, some not much bigger than a softball, in some nondescript tree or on a log or a rock. Needles in haystacks is a good way to describe it, except that these haystacks were chock full of ticks, briars, chiggers, rhododendrons and all kinds of other nasties. That would have been bad enough, but a race start time of 9:00PM Friday night meant that it was baptism by fire starting off in the pitch black of night.

Experienced navers and adventure racers from as far away as Michigan, Florida and Missouri would be duking it out for the Ultra O-gaine title, some going it solo and others teaming up for the affair. The first section of the race would consist of twelve checkpoints that had to be obtained in order. Three of the CPs were mandatory but each soloist or team could use three “free passes” on the others. However, you could also use the passes on an upcoming section of the race, the details of which were still a mystery. We got our maps and UTM coordinates as the gun went off and the race was on to plot them and get out of the “Hash House” as soon as possible. Personally, I wasn’t in any hurry, knowing that being out front means that you expend a lot of energy digging around for the illusive orienteering flags while the people trailing behind simply follow your lights and pick off the fruit of your labor. I chose to be a cherry picker for CP1.

Heading down a creek bed towards CP2, I soon ran into many of the usual suspects out in the woods trying to find the flag. Headlamps were scouring the woods as we picked our way through the thick brush alongside the creek. Luckily, I was one of the first to spot it and immediately snuck away from the fray to head back towards the road. I ran into Lisa Randall and Allen McAdams, racing as a two-person team, just before hitting the jeep road on the way to CP3 and we quickly hooked up with Jon Barker as well. Unfortunately, Jon had not been able to find CP2 and had already resigned himself to using up one of his free passes. What we all realized was that four sets of eyes were going to be much better than one trying to spot these flags out in the middle of nowhere.

“It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Our impromptu team of four knocked off the next four CPs without too much trouble. That’s where Lisa and Allen and I put on our “Bad Idea Jeans” and decided to skip Checkpoint 7 thinking that it would be a strategic move. CP7 required us to go back downhill into a relatively nondescript locale, which we assumed would be difficult to find. We would then have to turn around and regain the elevation we had just lost in order to make our way up to CP8. Jon, on the other hand, was already one CP in the hole, so he proceeded on to CP7 while we continued east up towards the radio tower on Pine Log Mountain. Taking a bearing off of a trail intersection we headed downhill into the drainage that should have taken us to pay dirt. Over forty minutes later we were both frustrated and dejected as we watched the headlamps coming from the ridgeline signifying that our “strategic move” had all been for naught. We didn’t feel too bad though since it took well over another hour for the dozen or so of us to finally find the bugger. It had fallen off the tree it was hanging from and was laying on the ground in the grass. It took somebody literally walking on top of it to locate it. I was in the hole now as everybody else in the group, except Lisa and Allen and Jon, had all of the CPs up to this point.

We somehow lost Lisa and Allen on the way to CP9, but Jon and I decided that we had to make a move after this checkpoint. We took a shortcut out of the woods and double-timed it along the jeep road to the spur heading up to CP10. Although it looked like it would be tough to find given its locale on the map and our experience with previous checkpoints, it proved to be a fairly easy one due to the limited vegetation in that area. We were very surprised to not come across anybody else on the way back out to the road. Turns out that the group we had been with decided to skip CP10. Now Jon and I were even with them in points, but we had to make up time. Unfortunately, CP11 proved to be a tiny needle in a really big haystack and kept us busy for a good forty-five minutes or so. We came into the transition area an hour behind the leaders, but feeling strong.

Ultra O-gaine: Bagging another flag

The next section was called a Memory-O and was a heck of a lot of fun. There were five checkpoints laid out in a circular fashion, each less than a mile or so apart from each other. The problem was that they sealed up our maps in a FedEx envelope and you had to find the flags based on memory. Each CP had a punch plus a placard showing the area of the map in question with the current checkpoint location and the location of the following CP. You could write the information down if you wanted to, but I’ve got a good photographic memory so I took a mental snapshot at each checkpoint and we proceeded on to bag the next flag. Jon and I moved fast and nailed each of the CPs without any trouble. We had gained twenty minutes or so on our prey by the time we got back to the transition area. We quickly plotted the next set of nine checkpoints that had to be obtained in order. Although we had two free passes left we both knew that the teams in front of us would probably bag them all and collect the points for them, so skipping any didn’t seem like an option if we wanted to win.

“Without friends the world is but a wilderness.” - Francis Bacon

From the TA, in the upper reaches of Stamp Creek, we made our way east and then south towards the southern edge of the WMA. Along the way we ran into Jessica and Kip Koelsch, two incredibly experienced adventure racers and adventure race directors. Once again, the “four sets of eyes are better than two” mentality set in and we teamed up with the Floridian couple. Picking our way through the impossibly thick briars and suffering in the ever-present sun, we methodically picked off one checkpoint after the other. In an attempt to try to catch the leaders, I foolishly left my cohorts thinking that I could knock off the last two flags and make it back to the Hash House in time to catch the crew in front of us. Despite fresh legs and the best intentions, I had to wait for the cavalry to save the day. Kip found the flag just twenty feet or so from where I had been circling aimlessly for the previous fifteen minutes. This was no place to try to go it alone.

Out of water and dealing with burning feet and inflamed legs and arms slashed mercilessly by the briars, we hit CP20 on a small knob just east of the Hash House, which was at the intersection of Stamp Creek and Stamp Creek Road. Unfortunately, there was no easy way back to the Hash House from this point without going out of the WMA, which was illegal. Hacking our way through thick brush once more, we finally came to the road leading us back to civilization. On our way we saw Bryan Goble and his teammate Bo on their way out on the final Rogaine section of the race. They informed us that just about everybody else in front of us, with the exception of John Dove, another soloist, had cashed in their chips and called it a day. It had turned into a war of attrition.

“Nothing makes us more vulnerable than loneliness, except greed.” - Thomas Harris

After plotting the points for the Rogaine section, downing some food and drinks and tending to our feet that looked more like hamburger than skin, we headed back out. It was just after 4:00PM, so we had five hours to pick off as many points as possible. Since the points could be retrieved in any order, we decided to head to an area with a cluster of points that was nearest to us. Unfortunately, the closest one, labeled “FL”, proved to be a fruitless search through very thick vegetation. We gave up on it and decided to move on. After retrieving four CPs, including one at a Civil War Iron Smelter that was very cool indeed, it was after 8:00. Kip and Jessica were feeling pretty rough and were satisfied with calling it a day. But as we started heading back towards the finish, I proposed to Jon that we give “FL” another shot. We must have had our “Bad Idea Jeans” on once again because it was another frustrating search in the thickets and we came away empty handed. Because of our greedy bid to get one more point, Kip and Jessica finished in front of us with the same number of points but a faster time. Bryan and Bo finished first overall with Jon and I tying for third, but both sharing first in the solo category.

Ultra O-gaine: The price of victory

It was a long day out in the woods, but being with Jon, Lisa, Allen, Jessica, Kip and many others throughout the day reinforced the fact that I was a team player and not a soloist. I didn’t enjoy Adventure24 because I was out there on my own most of the time, never mind the fact that I DNF’d. The only advantage to going it alone is that you don’t have to coordinate things with everybody else and worry if they’ve got all their mandatory gear and whether they’ll be on time, etc. But I think I’ll just deal with that headache from now on, because once the gun goes off I want two people next to me that I can count on and they can count on me. I know that it sounds like a cop out, but that’s just the way it is. I’m not as independent as I think.

P.S. More of the “Life Is An Adventure Race” series can be found at www.TrailBlazerAR.com under the Chattanooga Chapter section.