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NGAR Report
By Michael Greenwood, TrueBrit Force
This Race “started” about 3 months ago, right after the Ironman
race that Jon Barker and I did – first Training : Some mountain
biking; fell runs; canoeing in the dark; endless streams of emails
and then the buying frenzy, making sure we had all the gear on the
mandatory equipment lists. Nashbar this, Campmor that, REI and Bass
Pro Shops as Emergency backup ….I swear that Jon still has the
catalog numbers memorized for thermal undies and six packs of rocket
flares. We still begged, stole and borrowed things like powerful bike
night lights, and furiously tried them out, and fitted them hopefully
as far in advance as possible.
Thursday night was supposed to be the “in bed asleep” by
7 pm night ….well 1030 rolled by, 1100 followed, finally by about
1120 I got in bed …only to get up another 3 times to dig things
out before finally settling down.
Friday
Up at 0630 to see the kids before school : this was to be a wild and
extreme race, and the raised likelihood of perishing meant that I just
had to see them eating Oatmeal and bagels with cream cheese very slowly,
or my life would not have been complete. So much for the energizing
long battery charging relaxing voyage through la-la land, I had successfully
completed the Ironman race on a negative balance of sleep, and had
done fine … I guess sleep is for puffs. 0830 thru 1030 was like
the mini Olympics running round and packing everything, making a whole
loaf’s worth of PB&Js.
Finally Jon & Di arrived and we
slung the stuff in their nice shiny new Jeep Liberty, and off we went,
Adventurers three ! The first foul up was that I had not got a photocopy
of my Insurance card, then I thought I had lost my finger brace for
my broken left pinky finger ….bad omens ??? or normal hurdles
to be worked thru. This adventure racing does not start with the drop
of the start flag, but it is a sinister evil, tortuous mind game over
several days and weeks, testing your mental endurance, your spirit
to be Super detail Oriented guy ….anal retentive Ace !! We met
up with Kristin, and her friend Sue who was going to assist Di and
Mike Dillon with support duties for the team.
We then quickly got the photocopies we needed, and I filled in the
vital medical forms and waiver on the way up GA400. We saw a bunch
of cars coming South still covered in snow …..
We arrived at Appalachian Rentals in Dahlonega in very good time – Jon
sorted out the canoe rental, while I took the first of many open air ’Ice
Station Zebra’ pees behind a tree. The scene looked like a winter
wonderland, so pretty and vacation like, until we realized that we
were going to be stuck there for a while, as Kristin had accidentally
locked her keys in a very safe place ….yes, in the ignition of
her Ford Explorer. The picturesque snow covered piece of heaven turned
into the parking lot from hell, as we tried everything we knew to break
in to the vehicle. At first I thought Jon was going to go Krakatoa,
as this was not in the game plan, but Mr Barker as always surprises
me by acting differently to how I smugly think he will react. Now if
we had been in the Onion race in Chicago, or in another Urban jungle
adventure, breaking into the car may have been one of the special obstacles,
and some fun [plus the local hoodlum criminal team woulda had a big
home advantage …], but we tried everything or logical little minds
could muster.
We ransacked the place for wire and slim-Jims, called
triple A, called the local locksmith, prayed to the spirit of Henry
Ford, cursed under our breath at how secure this Explorer was. Jon
even drove off to the local dry cleaners to get real coat hangers – that
was the Holy Grail of this predicament, if only we could get a coat
hanger, wave it at the Explorer and the doors would pop open !! Well
we actually got 2 coat hangers, and even working both front windows
simultaneously, we never even got close. The whimsical playful breeze
when we arrived in Santa’s canoe rental grotto, was actually pretty
dang cold, sneaky and effective at chilling your kidneys down faster
than drinking a case of Coors Light!
Finally the local Locksmith guy arrived, after we had irretrievably
jammed one piece of wire in the passenger window. Oh Ho Ho, he’ll
wave his slim-jim at the Explorer and it will spring open like magic …well
20 minutes later, he finally yanked the lock open on the front. We
zoomed on to Suches to register and complete inspection for the Race – actually
the delay meant we got there right on time, and did not have to sit
around waiting for them to open.
We had one stop to adjust the huge canoe on the roof, but the start
of the race was getting closer, bit by bit !
It seemed about 20 deg F colder here to me, and the parking lot behind
the school was covered in ice …thick ice. Hmmmm. The juggling
of gear boxes, bikes, helmets, thermals etc began inside the 1950s
looking school gymnasium. The 10 station process went all too smoothly
: perhaps the days of fretting over the miniscule details of fleece’s
thread rating [200 gm or not 200gm, that is the question] had been
worth it. Everyone seemed friendly and in good spirits, well organized
[apart from the stations criss-crossing the gym, rather than proceding
numerically as you advance in a straight line ..there I go again being
all “high J’ and retentive]. Jon had a laugh pulling Zach’s
leg about jamming up the entrance to the building with his Saturn [which
he had ..J], we had our picture taken, and we were done. The boring
bits were checking into the motel [run by an Indian guy which stereotypically
in redneck North GA, seemed amusing to me ..but I,m warped], then going
for a good dinner at a local eatery, before zooming back to the pre-race
meeting back in Suches [Such is life].
We got back to the gym right before the meeting started, walked in
to a scene which was a cross between a scene from “The Perfect
Storm” & ‘Hoosiers’. If George Clooney or Gene Hackman
had got up to speak,I would have known that I had got caught in a time
tunnel [remember that show ?]. All the teams were neatly sat in the
bleachers on both sides of the basketball court, arranged just like
it could have been a film set. There was none of the disorganized chaos
of other race gatherings – people had logically sorted themselves
out ..very weird. Secondly they looked like New England longshoremen,
or Atlantic cod trawler crews, as everyone was bundled up, and kinda
unshaven in preparation for the Arctic challenge ahead.
You know, what it looked like, was the set of a Stephen King novel/movie – I
know I am going on about this, but it was a very memorable setting.
The young Race Director, and his cohorts then proceeded to scare us
with the info about how cold it was going to be if the wind got up
..minus 30 perhaps with the wind chill. Reminders on hypothermia, frostbite
and some brief race rules, info on the GPS tracker, and then the crowd
started breaking up, as the question session fizzled out, due to the
questions becoming wankier and wankier. One show of hands however did
show that there were some crazies here, who were doing this 30 hour
race as their FIRST EVER Adventure Race ….talk about jumping in
at the deep end…even I thought that was stupid…..
Back to the Star of India motel, and we had a couple of hours of mental
torture moving things from bag to bag, worrying if we had remembered
everything. I firmly believe that even if everything is perfect, that
you still have to go through this bag and gear paranoid frenzy, as
a rite of passage, no matter what. Of course the exception to the rule
is Jon, who sorts his stuff out in what seems like 3 minutes, and makes
me feel like a 7 year old preparing for an Ice climbing trip up the
North Face of the Eiger …J …but that’s Jon, razor sharp,
cuts through the bullshit, focuses on exactly what is needed, and voom,
he can sit back and scratch himself ! Actually he tries to help me
to logically sort my stuff out, and does succeed in lightening my pack,
and my conscience about leaving the kitchen sink in the backup box!
Ha !
I can but cling to my self affirmation mantra that I have never blown
a race, or messed something up in my triathlon, AR or any sporting
endeavor ….I,m 41, very successful at my very responsible job,
I,m married to a beautiful and wonderful woman, am raising 3 gorgeous
smart kids, I drive a Porsche [J for Audrey] and a Ram Air WS-6 TransAm,
and by golly, people like me!! [Props to Saturday Night Live]. If this
has dragged on, it’s because the whole getting ready process must
be like pregnancy ..drags on and On, and becomes more uncomfortable
the closer it gets to the big day. Finally in bed, I think, for around
1000 pm, so with reveille at 0300, that’s gosh dang it, newbie
nearly 5 hours sleep !!!
I close my eyes and 2 seconds later the alarm goes off for 0300, and
it’s show time. Up, shower, dress, start loading the cars up.
A bit of video – oh yes, I took some video of as much as I could…..
We listened to my CD with “Cant get Enough of this” on, as
we snaked up to Suches. Slipped [literally] down the access road to
the field, and sat in eerie calm before the storm.
The Race
Mike ran up to get our maps and directions at 0500, but then the storm
was delayed a couple of hours by us kinda intentionally as we decided
to plot all the checkpoints at the beginning.Half the teams plotted
all the MTB section first, then took off into the black chilling cold
of Saturday morning in Siberia. We stayed warm plotting until first
light, then saddled up and walked gingerly up the hill to the main
road, where Mike, Di and Sue had taken our bikes, to avoid us breaking
a bone on the Parking lot ice at the start of the race [like somebody
else did]. It was SooooOOOOOOO cold …..apparently 4 deg F …yes
28 deg F below freezing. I wondered if this was going to be a short
tragic day, something along the lines of Captain Oates or Shackleton
of the Antarctic [or as my Dad quipped like the queer polar explorer
: ‘Scott of the Arse Antics’], setting bravely out to freeze
like an icepop, or like one of the storied drunk reservation Indians,
to collapse and rest, sleep and die in a ditch ……Wake-up
!! Start pedaling Mick !!
We were off. One of the last, but I knew
we would do well, because I have raced with Jon and Kristin before,
and I know we are tough, and strong and good team players. I was strong,
I would not stop. ………I could not stop. My arse was frozen
to the saddle, I could not get off [J]….I like starting at the
back of any field, as every competitor you catch and pass, you are
moving up, inexorably up …I like the feeling of conquering and
over-coming. Talking of overcoming, I was concerned with local yokel
knobby full-size pickup lard sandwich boy over coming the center line
of the quiet country road, and squishing us just for fun in the snow
and ice ….luckily this never even came close, but it was a movie
playing in my head, as we slipped on the ice, and tried to get traction,
and prayed that our bikes brakes and gears would work. But the cold
was sooo COLD ….things could only get better and warmer. Then
my chain fell off when changing down to go up a hill. So things immediately
got worse and colder, as I coaxed the chain back onto the front ring,
with much muttering of all the swear words I knew. The day was going
to be very long if it was going to carry on like that.
Okay so we plodded carefully on, actually warming up okay, and making
progress. We got off the paved [mettled, for Brits] road and started
on the first of many miles of Fire Service roads.
We quickly found that in the snow this took about twice the effort
of regular MTB riding. Jon was concerned with Camelback tubes freezing
early on, and sure enough, this was a constant running gag thru the
race. I solved mine a bit later, by pushing the tube and nozzle all
the way down inside the bladder section of the backpack – both
my body heat, and the llatent heat from the warm liquid kept the pipeline
open ! Good nozzle technique that’s what you want !!
Anyway my
memory of the early miles is scant – we kept pedaling, kept pushing,
and we warmed up, the sky cleared and maybe 1000am the sun came out
on an uphill section with trees, casting lovely long photogenic shadows
across the trail. I think this was the first time I noticed the beautiful
view – I even said to Jon, that this moment in time, a couple
of hours in to the race was perfection, just like it was in the Ironman
2 hours into the bike ride. And lo, it was good, warm body, bike in
good shape, serene beauty all around + we are AR racing ! Nirvana.!
At least if it got bad, I have a nice reference to replay in my mind.
We went down a long medium hill to Checkpoint [CP] One, and the teams
ahead were coming up, telling us to beware for the Ice – good
camaraderie. Really noticed here that I did not like the downhills,
as they were scary. Feeling that you cannot stop, despite jamming the
rear wheel, and imagining ice patches waiting to whip that front tire
out from under you was not nice, until you got used to it …..I
was the slowest descender in our team.
Finally reached CP1, and we checked in and warmed ourselves by the
fire. My concerns for Kristin’s feet getting frozen were already
realized, as she could not feel them. We ate, joked with other racers
there, including the brother of Race Director Tony Bergwald [?] and
warmed ourselves. Kristin put her foot with her new winter warmer show
covers too close to the flames….”Er Kristin I think your
foot’s on fire” I said, and indeed the bottom was smoking
badly, and crispy crinkly charred ..even after all that her foot was
still freezing.
Anyway we left I think in 63rd or 61 st place from
CP1 ..we had a lot of ground to make up. We slogged on and on, gradually
passing a few teams.
My snow technique was to keep my bum firmly planted on the saddle to
get the weight on and over the rear driving wheel, and keep cranking,
and keep the traction going. Meanwhile your hands would be sawing at
the handlebars, trying to keep in a straight line, or trying desperately
to get back onto the hard-pack line [one advantage to following others] – I
commented that Kristin was doing a great job at this, like a Speedway
dirtbike rider on clay. This was very tiring, as you also had to concentrate
110%. Or you would fall off. We got good at this though, and I don’t
think that anyone fell off completely at all. We had a couple of foot
dabs each, but we slogged on. If you looked back over your shoulder,
you wobbled and lost your line and traction instantly, so checking
on ream mate’s proximity became like a roll call – if at
the back, we would holler every once in a while, as we did not want
to stop, but wanted to let the others know that we were still there.
We all got really good at “saving” the bike when we got off
track, or dropping the bike was imminent – like a plonker I started
scoring the saves, as a game to pass the time. Kristin was very good,
with two 8s and a 9 out of ten. Jon got some good scores too, but later
he won the Ice dancing trophy hands down in a section of the hike,
when saving an excursion onto a sheet of hidden ice ….all we saw
was a cross between Road Runner legs rotating at 8,000 rpm and the
grace of a Gene Kelly or Fred Astaire dance move ….he did not
go down, and scored 11 out of ten for that one ………
Anyway the cycle computer that I was so so proud of, and that I had
been shouting the mileage out to Jon from, packed up, dead, kaput.
I had heard the familiar brushing sound of a leaf getting caught in
the front forks and brake calipers, but realized too late that this
was the computer wires rubbing ……then snap …and I thought
that it was impossible for the wires to rub …
We caught and passed a team [Sun Tek skylights, I think] who had an
expat Brit lady on the team …we yakked with them, then off again,
making good time catching people up ….
I was surprised at how much consulting other teams / swapping info
or ideas on the route that Jon did, as this is a competition against
other teams .. it was still early, and the course was the adversary
I deduced. I shouldn’t forget that for me, it was a great fillip,
when we passed I would say 10 teams, all going back, as they had all
missed CP1 turn off ..we were majorly lucky, to be following the tire
tracks in the snow ….we were gaining hand over fist ..and the
sun was shining, though I did feel sorry for them having to retrace
their tracks some of them had to go back maybe 3 or 4 miles. We passed
Zach,Cathy and Vernon of team 50 Somethings fairly soon, even though
I think they set off ahead of us by maybe 45 minutes.
The ascents were generally long and steady, and actually okay, as we
kept warm on them. There was one long, long section of a climb, that
I was very proud of leading us up and setting the pace, although we
all took turns, but with Jon leading mostly. I do remember seeing a
really tall guy go right over on ice on a corner – he got straight
up and dusted himself off, a bit just like a ski or snowboarding fall.
It was around this time that I coined my new acronym …everyone
knows ‘WTF’. Well due to us wiping out so nearly, so often,
yet always just saving it, “HTF” or “How the frick” was
uttered often. Okay the full thing is “HTFDISOTMB” …..’How
the frick did I stay on this mountain Bike’. It was miraculous
sometimes.
CP2 we eventually found, after playing hide and seek with a couple
of other teams. I think Tri-geek Bill’s team was one. We did some
bike whacking to get into CP2, avoiding FS69 [or was it 63], which
it seems after the race, that the embargo on FS69 was not enforced,
but hey, we went the right way. The sections right before CP2 were
very pretty and some of the most enjoyable of the day. We stayed quite
a long time at CP2 ‘cos of the fire, Kristin warming her feet,
us all eating well. There was also thankfully some bottled water, which
was great, though very very cold. I think it was here that one team
that had a real hardcore name like ‘Team Relentless’ were
throwing the towel in, due to the lady on the team having a bad knee.
Then we got back on the road, and rapidly went past the fish hatchery
on the Toccoa [??] river, and started climbing again.
These were long
long miles – I think we did about 55 all told by the end of the
day around 7 pm, so we biked pretty much non-stop for 11 hours. CP3
was off the trail a couple of hundred yards, and Jon scampered off
to get the passport stamped. There were a bunch of teams waiting there,
and even the County Firetruck came up searching for someone in distress.
I discovered the ecstasy of peanut butter and marmalade sandwiches,
as Jon shared his goodies around. Mental note for next time : they
are good. Then off again in search of CP 4 which if I remember was
at the top of a mountain unmanned by the roadside. Then we descended
as the afternoon wore on, I guess towards Blue Ridge area, and we started
doing a bunch of single track stuff with rhododendron type bushes littering
and blocking our path. Also there were numerous logs and trees across
the single tracks, that meant unclipping, lifting the bike over, then
struggling for 3 or 4 minutes to get the snow and ice covered shoe
and pedals to clip in together – this became very tiring. We also
had a lot of team traffic to contend with, as we got bunched up, so
that became tiresome and annoying for me having folks breathing down
my neck. This slowed the pace way down, and we finally got to CP5 which
was on the single track in a bunch of rhododendrons or triffids or
something.
Shortly after that I had my incident, where I lazily did
not unclip my shoe going over a big tree trunk across the track. The
rear wheel got caught, I lost my balance, falling forward as the bike
lay down on it’s side pointing the right handlebar straight up
in the air. I connected at perfect right angles coming down with my
full weight right in the left center of my chest. This flipped me over
the top, and off to the left side down an embankment that went down
to a stream. I found myself in the twinkle of an eye sliding head first
down the slope on my belly, looking at the tree trunks hurtling towards
me, wondering ‘which one of these will break my neck ?? hmmm?’ Then
instinctively I saw a small hand sized stump off to the right, that
I could try and grab to slow or stop me. Luckily I got it and this
swung my legs round below me and I clung on, safe momentarily for a
split second, before the tidal wave of pain and of the wind being totally
knocked out of me hit me like a freight train. I reared up rigid in
shock, trying to both suck some air into my body [it felt like I was
suffocating, unable to draw breath] and also trying to cope with the
pain of being hit by a pile driver to the chest.
My tip is do not do
this at home. There would only be one thing worse, which people joked
about with me afterwards “Oh at least you didn’t leave your
testicles dangling on the handlebars, Ho Ho , Ho Ho” The guys
who were following helped pull me back up with the aid of a long branch
pretty quickly. Funnily enough I recovered quite fast once I had finally
taken a breath. Kristin was killing herself laughing, saying that I
looked like the opening sequence from the ‘Mannix’ show where
the TV detective rolls down an embankment fighting a bad guy ….Mannix
became my new nickname for a short while. I knew I had hurt something
badly though, I thought I had cracked a rib, which turns out that I
fractured my sternum, or chest bone.
I jumped on though and started pedaling, but was expecting to start
coughing up blood, or feel my lungs filling with liquid any minute.
I did not let on that I was very concerned, but it was for the best,
just to carry on and do what I could. I was quite relaxed about it
though, as it was a simple situation, if I can carry on, carry on,
but if I deteriorate, and cannot go on, I have had a heavy heavy fall,
and gave it my best.
About 10 mins later my fears were confirmed, when
I made a bench-press kinda move in lifting the bike over another blessed
log. I got a sharp ohh so sharp dig of pain in the chest, like an electric
shock, telling me not to do that again, as it was damaged. I felt something
click later too. I knew that if the canoeing was still in the race,
the I would have been out. Whichever, I took it easy, but kept on keeping
on. We had one high anxiety moment, crossing a big stream on 2 parallel
logs as a bridge, which was very dodgy taking a bike over with you,
and especially for me, without full mobility.
My fall may have been before CP 5, as we got there, and I remember
we discussed pushing on to get to CP6 [TA1] before dark or as close
to it as we could. There were some nice fast sections actually on the
road to Blue Ridge, but we also had to be careful for huge ice patches
and cars .. We crossed the Shallowford Bridge at dusk, and pedaled
hard. There were a few cars. One contained a dickwad young lady, who
leaned out of the window to taunt us by sardonically saying “Ooh
I bet your freezing cold, aren’t you” Jon commented something
like “ What kind of A-hole was that ? “. My $25 Cateye bike
lght was actually well worth the money, and did really well. The last
huge hill before TA1 was an SOB, it went on and on and on. I was okay
on the climb, but dropped back after taking a leak. The descent was
atrocious, due to the steep angle, bad icy patches, and boulder strewn
busted road. Coupled with vehicles coming up the hill with headlights
on high beam, so we couldn’t see a thing, this was one of the
worse parts of the bike – I had had enough of this, and wanted
Off !!
TA1
Our support team was buzzing around the cars, getting stuff ready.
All I wanted to do was sit for a few minutes and get my bearings, thaw
out. I had some awesome hot lemon spice tea and some macaroni cheese.
Then I got out and behind the Jeep stripped naked from the waist up,
in the wind, in order to completely change my clothes and get dry layers
on. This accomplished I warmed up again curled up with Kristin’s
puppy Pinto in the front of the Explorer. I was glad that Jon was spending
most of this time studying the maps and the route. I hoped & thought
we were going to fly around the hike course.
Hike
We set off, having stocked up with all the food we had left, took some
pics and off we went hiking into the night, towards the lake crossing
on pontoon boat.
The scene at the lake was like a scene from another movie, ‘Apocalypse
Now’ …there was music playing at the lake shore, and a big
open fire, and a loud chain saw that we could not see was cutting down
a tree. We got on the pontoon boat, and instead of getting in and sitting
down, we had to stand outside the safety rail on the fantail, holding
onto the rail for dear life. The lake was full of broken ice, so that
it made a sound like a huge blender full of ice when the boat crunched
it’s way through. Once on the other side, off we went. We soon
warmed up and it was quite pleasant actually, with a bit of snow falling,
the path lit by our powerful headlights.
We made CP11 at the top of the hill fairly quickly, chatted around
the fire for about 5 minutes tops, and off we went, I think in about
24th place or so. We caught up with an all female team just down the
hill, and it turned to be team ‘Crew Zen’ from Tampa Florida,
and they knew of Jon’s AR friend down there, Margo ! So we yakked
to them for a while, but they said they weren’t doing too well,
and sounded like they were going to bail soon. We had a detour for
30 mins as we finally decided to go back to the ‘Brent McAuley’ [?
Similar] trail. After that we hammered on up a bunch of “stair
clmber” hills, getting higher and higher, and bleaker and bleaker.
It was late, maybe 0100 am think, and I think we all felt sleepy, me
in spite of taking some Xenadrine.
We had one surreal food & drink
stop sitting on a log, noshing as much as we could stomach, drinking
as much as we could, and taking Tums, more Xenadrine. Kristin lay down
in the snow, and started to drop off, before Jon kept her awake saying
loudly “Kristin, No sleeping!” This did the trick, as we
all jumped up and hit the trail. We could see team’s lights ahead
occasionally, and the CrewZen girls catching occasionally, but I think
we all felt that we were flying along. This 2 man team was also around
us, and we swapped places a few times with them. I nicknamed them ‘The
Proclaimers’,as they both had thick framed glasses on. They were
actually the ‘Macon Marauders’. We went up mountains, down
mountains, around mountains, and down the side,of mountains. Sometimes
we were in the lea of the hill, and all was peaceful. Other times on
the ridge, and it was COLD. Between 0200 and 0300 we had a blizzard
blow. At first it came straight down. Then sideways. Then upwards!
It was very beautiful, and I cannot for the life of me understand why
so many teams bailed, as this was a unique opportunity to hike these
mountains at night in winter with the relative safety of a bunch of
others out there too, plus dedicated search and rescue teams there
to find us, Emergency radios, and GPS tracking units also. It was fun.
I think there was one point where after CP12 we were in the valley,
and crossed the main road, and saw all these teams coming back down
the trail saying they were bailing, and this seemed to be contagious,
as other teams decided to quit also. We realized that they had started
out up the hill, and had been frightened or psyched out by the big
hill there was to climb ….up we went, and it was tough, but a
great climb, straight up!
As I say, fun until we had to find CPs 13 and 14. We teamed up with “The
Proclaimers”, Neil and Shannon for probably a couple of hours,
still following footprints in the snow. It got to a point where we
had to do a bunch of scrambling / bushwhacking down a slope. I had
to take it easy, as a fall might finish me off. Kristin was starting
to get tired, and got a good twig in the eyeball at one point. We did
get lost, and at one point it seemed like we spent the whole hour between
0400 and 0500 in one spot in the woods discussing which way to go.
We crossed this stream back and forwards [no joke] 3 times before proceeding
on, but that’s what Adventure Racing is like …navigating
is not easy, and the fear of not getting lost can lead to some lengthy
discussion & study sessions. I was feeling very nauseous or acid
stomachy tired from the Gatorade, but this was all we had to drink.
I was gagging for simple water, and had periodically been eating handfuls
of fresh frigid snow. Eventually we hit CP13, and I got some water
there. There were 2 officials, and one of them stayed inside his tent
and took the info down through the canvas !
Then on to CP 14 with the Proclaimers. We got lost though, as conditions
got worse. It seemed to get colder around 0600. There was hidden ice
on the Road – one of the thick frame glasses boys went completely
arse over tit on one bit. Then we turned round to retrace our steps
as we’d missed a turn ….the sag wagon went by, headed for
TA2 full of teams that had bailed. Jon and I were concerned about Kristin,
as she was showing signs of extreme fatigue and or Imminent hypothermia,
ie she was acting “drunk”. I was getting disillusioned aswell,
due to the excessive time we had unavoidably spent getting lost and
working out where to go. But I cannot complain, as Jon mainly and Kristin
did all the navigation …I just followed. But I thought that we
had blown being able to finish the race within the time limit + we
had done so well early on, that it was disappointing to be dragging.
I am still a newbie to this.
Back to Kristin – Jon had talked
to her, and seen her eyes kinda rolling about in her head. She was
alternately staggering, then skipping along at a good pace. I had seen
Kristin sleep walking , so that I had to shout her name to wake her
up, before she went into the ditch or over the side and down the hill!
I expressed my “event weariness” to Jon, and in retrospect,
he did the right thing by giving me a metaphorical slap in the face,
giving me a “We will fight them on the beaches” speech. He
said that “right now was not the time to quit, but just the opposite
to push harder and knuckle down, as other teams were dropping out,
and that it would be light soon, and that this made the difference
in being competitors or quitters” [or something like that]. Also
that “we were 24 hours into this, and we only need to push on
for a few more hours”. I learned that Jon is a good team leader,
he is very strong and tough in these endurance ARs and Ironman type
events, and correctly recognizing when I for one needed some more motivation
due to being knackered ! I would have said that 0600 was my lowest
point, but there were 2 lower later on. We eventually found the correct
route, which was a path going upwards and away from civilization. Before
we started, we had a team huddle, and Jon looked us both in the eye
and asked both of us “if we were up for carrying on”, as
if we weren’t, now was the time to bail. We both said we were
definitely going to go on. We had had our moan and low times, but when
confronted with the black and white ‘quit or push’ $64,000
question, our depth of character [or was it depth of masochism ?] shone
through. This was a key point in our race, and a major milestone in
what we achieved in the event.
Sunrise was nice, as the sky went from black to this deep deep electric
metallic blue, that was so rich ..the richest blue I have ever seen
[there’s a Nissan 350Z color like this, FYI ]. Then slowly our
spirits rose with the sun, although it clouded over quickly I think.
I still tried eating and drinking, but my stomach was so sickly acidic,
but I slowly forced PB&Js down anyway. Onwards to CP14. I thought
it was going to be just round the corner when we saw a bunch of teams
coming back from it. Now they did say that it was a long way up over
this hill. We must have climbed about 1000 feet straight up, just like
a stair climber machine again. …..then there were 2 more mountains
like this …..This leg must have been about 15 miles or so. Soul
destroyingly long. Maybe I need to get involved with the navigation
next time, so that I can mentally budget my will power better. I know
I asked at one point for Jon’s honest opinion if there were going
to be any more big hills, hoping he was going to say “there there
Michael, it’s all flat from here”. But in his best ‘Bridge
too Far’ tones he dashed my hopes into the snow with a dose of
brutal reality : “There will always be big hills to climb, Michael”.
In a nice pulling no punches kinda way also inferring that ..”this
is what AR is all about, this is what I [Jon] am all about, keeping
on pushing, bring on the hills.” He was right, and I know that
after the event, we recover very quickly, and have all our comforts
very quickly too. So that when things get tough, just get tougher yourself.
That which does not kill us, makes us stronger.
This was the hardest event I have ever done, and puts Ironman down
a league of magnitude [though both very very stressful in different
ways]. But this was the first time I have ever vaguely flirted with
the idea of bailing or wanting to call it a day. In fact I have Never
ever bailed on any run, bike ride , triathlon, AR in my whole life,
but this race got me closest to the envelope edge than anything before.
I feel that having seen that edge now, it is pushed back more now,
as this was a lesson in toughness. I do keep reminding myself that
I was nursing the chest injury, and that it had taken a bunch of the
stuffing out of me too.
Anyway I had a first that morning too. My first open air #2. It was
time. Touching cloth. I could not go on clenching any longer. All I
can say is : balancing act; vulnerability; undignified; surreal; cold
, oh so cold, taking a fresh air Travis Tritt. I did get frostbite
in my left balancing hand in the snow, but at least there weren’t
any snakes around ! Later on the way to CP14 the sun was shining, and
I remember chatting with Kristin and telling her how tough she was.
There aren’t that many guys who hung in the race this far, and
here Kristin was, recovered from her brush with hypothermia, and strong
as ever ! She really is amazing + putting up with us guys ! Ha !
Eventually we find CP14 ..somewhere near South Dakota I think. We sit
with the Proclaimers and kinda feel giddy, as we have one more CP and
that is back to the TA …..but we are way out of time to finish,
so we will not be mountain biking. I decide not to eat any more or
drink any more as my stomach is so churning. Off we go again, soon
my lungs feel like I have damaged them with breathing in all that cold,
literally freezing air into my inflamed lungs. As a precaution, I cover
my mouth with the face mask thing I have, to pre-warm the air, and
slowly my lungs feel better.
We get back down onto the road, and start trekking back after speaking
to a Police officer on country patrol in his massive Ford Expedition.
Kristin and Jon want to jog back on the flats and downhills – I
try, but this shakes my ribcage up too much, and have to stop after
really trying for 200 yards. Can fast hike, but no running.
I think they were disappointed in me for not being able to run, but
I have given my all, my everything, injury and everything, and I know
that my tanks are empty and that I am running on fumes from now until
the end. Water water water, that is all I want. This last leg, I thought
was going to be about 45 mins ….it turned out to be immense even
though it was only 8 or 10 miles. Then a weird thing happens, the race
director Tony drives by, then comes back to talk to us. I thought he
was kinda flippant with us, rather than being supportive and congratulatory,
but I also know that I was in a downward spiral of exhaustion, complete
exhaustion. Then 30 mins further on we see Mike Dillon walking towards
us, and so I think great, nearly over, as he must have just walked
around the corner from the TA. But no, he has inadvertently sent my
mental state spinning way down, as he tells me he has been walking
for an hour to here to meet us! I am shagged from this point on. I
walk the fastest I can, but this is slower than the other three who
keep going off ahead. They stop to let me catch up a couple of times,
but they still scoot off. That last hour of shuffling back to the TA
was miserable, totally miserable. Then when we got there, the place
was deserted apart from DI and Sue and the vehicles. That made it seem
like we had been abandoned…to me anyway, used to spotlights and
crowds and music at the finish of Ironman races …
I was done, I was totally spent. Not going any further.
Empty.
I had some water and some hot tea,and some of the photos show me smiling,
but I was a zombie, and it only got worse. I was proud of what we had
done, and proud of what I had done with cracked ribs, but I knew this
race had majorly kicked my butt, but also shown me what I was made
of, and also tempered my steel in the fire, so that it would be stronger
for next time.
Home
Let’s wrap this up, by saying that still in full cold gear, I
hopped in the passenger seat of the Jeep. The next 16 miles back to
the hotel from the School House at Suches were the lowest point, as
it was torture feeling Soooo tired that I wanted to sleep, and not
being able to because of the bright sun streaming through the windshield,
coupled with overheating rapidly in the car. Soon I felt mega nauseous,
and almost threw up, if the drive had been a half mile more…..
I bailed out of the car the second we stopped in the hotel parking
lot, and sat head in hands. As the others sorted gear out for the various
vehicles, I stripped some of the trail clothes off, and actually put
some fresh items on. With that I climbed in the back seat of the Jeep,
grunted some semi-conscious goodbyes to the team, pulled my fleece
over my head to shut out the light and noise, and my body shut down.
Next thing I woke up as we entered Alpharetta. We slung my stuff in
our garage and we all zoomed off to crash. I actually stayed up until
7:00 pm playing with the kids, and having a bath that I fell asleep
in.
So an awesome event that took me to my limits, stressed my body. Took
my soul, my carcass and character to places they did not want to go……but
it has made me stronger. I take my hat off to Jon and Kristin, who
are tough, very tough. Thanks to our great support crew.
I think it was Wednesday when I said the unthinkable, in that I wanted
to do this race next year again !!
It’s an Adventure!
P.S. We believe that we came about 21st overall out of 63 or 64 teams
that started, and in our coed 3 person division came 13th out of 28.
We did great!
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