Southern Exposure

July 21, 2001

Chris O'Connell - Solo

Guns and Gators

After every race, I always seem to be revising my Basic Rules of Adventure Racing.

Well, after the Southern Exposure 1 race in the Florida Everglades, I have a new #1 rule of Adventure Racing. Yes, this beats the time-honored rule, Don't follow the team ahead of you just because they look like they know where they are going...

My new #1 rule is, when bushwacking, if you come upon a barbed wire chain link fence, even if the gate is slightly open, enough for you and your kayak to go through, turn back and stick to they main portage route!

I was competing solo in this 12 hour 50 mile race, when, shortly into the race, I was close behind the second place guy ahead of me. Energized by doing so well early on, and ignorant of the local surroundings, I checked the vague back and white map I had, and saw a great chance to plunge ahead, doing a direct bushwack portage to the canal, rather than the longer roundabout road hike that the other top teams had taken. (This is where, in a team scenario, perhaps a cooler head would have suggested we stick with the main road... I hope...)

Anyway, the road I took soon brought me to a chain linked barbed wire fence that was half open -- just enough for me and my kayak to pass through. I bit at the opportunity to cut some time, and race ahead of the competition.

Instead, my "bushwack" soon led me up to a densely vegitated ravine, which I mistakenly took for the levy, where I assumed I would plunge over into the canal, ahead of the competition!

Much to my dismay, after several minutes of struggling up the steep slope, I broke free into -- a firing range! Luckily, no one was shooting just yet, but my bright red kayak drew the attention - and yelling curses of several marksmen who were just getting ready to unload on me! I quickly fell back into the brush, and out of danger, and made my way to the canal, having lost several spots.

Later, during the race, every time we came in the vicinity of the range, I heard the non-stop firing, and was glad I was far away from the range!

Racing solo also taught me a ton of lessons, which I am still am only beginning to fully understand. In a race, we usually judge our own performance against our teammates. Sometimes I am the fastest, sometimes the slowest. However, when racing solo, you have only the other teams to gauge yourself against. While I passed people on every leg, I was also passed by faster teams and individuals. Ironically, the only event that I was not passed, and passed every team in site, was the Everglades orienteering. This was an hour or more of slogging through ankle to knee deep swamp, going from one checkpoint to the next. The first team I caught up to, I jokingly said there was nowhere in North Georgia for me to train for this kind of event. However, as I quickly overtook them, and as many as a half dozen other teams, I realized, this was not much different (except that I was soaking wet from the waist down) from trudging up a mountain along the Appalachian Trail. It was the same process of heaving one foot up to knee level, and pushing forward non stop.

However, with all the traditional disciplines of biking, running and paddling, at one point or another, I was pushing forward thinking "I need to work on this." Still, I kept my pace up overall, and with quick transitions, and kept hydrated and energized. And overall, I felt strong throughout the race only loosing one spot in the very end to another solo male who chose to cut off a portion of the last run by doing a couple of swims.

I had been in third place in a very competitive solo male division until that last leg, which is probably the thing that will gnaw at me and push me to train harder and smarter for the next race. But despite feeling I could do better in every discipline, I had the very satisfying feeling that, overall, I ran a good race. That, I guess, is the challenge and reward of adventure racing -- while I am not a master of any one discipline, I can put it all together, and, maybe someday, win at everything.

So, I finished 4th in the solo male category, and definitely felt satisfied with the race -- especially when, during the final 18 mile bike leg, I saw an alligator cross the levy only 30 yards ahead of me. Oh, and, if you read this, Mom, I promise not to cut through any firing ranges ever again...

One final thanks to Shay, who played the role of support crew during this race. Despite it being an unsupported race, she was crucial in helping with the pre and post race logistics, which I found to be especially daunting when racing solo. She also was extremely helpful during the race, in shouting encouragement, specifically during the last test -- a ropes course. While the teams got to help each other, us poor soloists had to pull ourselves unassisted up this very tough traverse. I hung lifelessly in between pulls, energized only by her cheering. Once again, I learned the value of the team, whether they are members racing with you, or part of the all-important support crew. Thanks so much!

-- Chris O'Connell -- Team Anhinga