September 23-24, 2005
Team Forward Regression
Solo Division
I arrived at the Bass Resort located on the Courtois River about 12 miles east of Steelville, Missouri about 1:30PM on Friday afternoon. I checked into my cabin and unloaded all my gear. I installed the required lights on my bike, lubricated the chain, and adjusted the brakes before attempting to take a nap. It took only a few minutes before I realized the bed was a bit too soft for my liking so I transferred all my gear to the bed and set-up a nest on the floor. The last time I slept on too-soft a bed I woke with nasty back pain that persisted a couple of days so I really was not interested in risking it the night before the race. The bed was a more practical gear stage than the floor anyway. I napped until about 3:30PM and then decided to take a short bike ride around the camp in order to assure everything was functioning properly and to scope out the some the teams that were arriving and breaking camp. The bike was perfect and so it was off to the race check-in at 4PM. There was a gear inspection, registration, hold-harmless waivers for the resort and race organizers and then it was back to the cabin for another nap until about 6PM when I decided to prepare and have a light dinner.
Another short nap after dinner took me to the pre-race briefing at 8PM where the 16 four person teams, 18 two person teams, and 9 soloists racing the long course assembled with the 40 two person teams racing the short course. I dropped my solo canoe, PFD, and paddle at the designated area for transportation on my way. The meeting consisted of thanking all the various sponsors, volunteers, and private property owners for making the event possible, followed by a citation of all the governing rules and time penalties associated with infractions ranging from 20 minutes to complete disqualification. The organizers then announced that the long course would start at 5AM and the short course would start two hours later. Although I had been preparing for an early morning start somewhere between 1 and 3AM, I was thankful for the additional time to rest; both courses would start with a 1 mile run out to the most remote campsite on the property to collect the control passport followed by a 1 mile return to the race start area. The checkpoint coordinates for the first part of the course and the associated maps where then distributed to all.
I returned the cabin and proceeded to plot the first 11 checkpoints as well as the locations of the two “mystery events” for the revealed portion of the course. I drew a grid on each map thereby dividing the map into square kilometers which simplifies the plotting process. After plotting the points I spent some time to select the best route between checkpoints before marking it with a highlighter. The course at this point looked good with many opportunities for route decisions. I then used a useful distance tool consisting of a small wheel connected to an analog dial. As you trace the wheel along the route the dial indicates the distance covered in miles. I recorded the distances between important landmarks and locations along the route onto the map for later reference. The final and most vital step in the process was to laminate the maps with Glad Press-n-Seal, the best stuff ever to quickly waterproof almost anything. (Even if your map case is waterproof you still have to adjust and/or change maps during the race—this requires opening the case which during inclimate periods with dirty or wet paws can be risky. Laminating mitigates any risk.) It was then off to bed.
I didn’t sleep deeply, awaking every 45 minutes or so to check the time. At 4:15AM I decided it was time to get going. I took 3 electrolyte tablets, a vitamin, and a couple of big drinks of water for breakfast and then filled two water bottles for my bike, two water bottles for my pack, and filled the 3 liter water bladder also for my pack. One of the bottles contained 6 servings of Perpetium—a powdered drink mix packing 260 calories per serving high in complex carbohydrates with a nice electrolyte profile as well as a little protein. The “liquid pancakes” would serve as my primary fuel throughout the race. I then dressed and grabbed my gear and my bike and headed to the race start area just a few hundred meters away. The early morning was thick with a heavy fog and a pleasant temperature in the high 60’s and relative humidity of 100%. I staged my bike, bike shoes, and helmet next to a tree near the start area. At ten minutes prior to start I downed a Hammer Gel packet of pure complex carbohydrates with another swig of water. I then spent the remaining minutes stretching.
The directors used a P.A. system and lead everyone in a brief prayer followed by the National Anthem. The powerful high-fidelity system they used broadcast the anthem through the entire valley. The short-coursers and the few lucky regular campers were I’m sure innocent victims of proximity. It was really quite a surreal experience with the fog, the still pitch sky, and the echoing anthem. A short countdown from 10 and the race was on.
One hundred and six racers took off on the run to pick up their control cards located 1 mile away, each sporting a LED headlamp serving to illuminate the fog; again it was quite the site. A two person team walked just ahead of me and then in a few minutes took off on a run as well. After they were just barely visible I too began a slow 9 km/h jog from dead last. It was not long before headlamps of the top teams were headed back towards me followed later by a much larger pack. When I reached the most remote campsite a volunteer took my name and number, witnessed my signing of my control card (the objective evidence to be later punched as proof of checkpoint visitation) and I began the jog back to the race start area. I passed a team or two at the turnaround then jogged in the rest of the way with a couple of other soloists.
Upon returning to my bike I changed into my cycling shoes, stowed my trekking shoes and headlamp, donned my helmet and off I went into the still dark morning in under a two minutes and likely passed a few teams in transition.
The first checkpoint was located about 7.5 miles away. Within the first mile I saw a couple of lights headed towards me as I made the turn onto another gravel road they had missed. (I later learned that numerous teams missed the first turn as it was not easy to see—I likely passed a few teams here.) It was a long climb out of the river valley and out of the fog. At mile 6 was an ATV trail that I headed downhill for ¾ of a mile to the first CP located at small clearing. I chose then to head back up the hill to the ridge line gravel road rather than take the Berryman Trail to CP2. Although the taking the trail was the shorter route and avoided a climb, road travel is much faster. I traveled the road to a point where the Berryman crossed the road and then headed down the trail to the second CP located a small pond.
On the way down to the down the trail there were a few teams headed back out the single track trail. Upon passing one four person team the trailing rider said “I can’t believe we are on the wrong trail,” in a discouraged tone and as if addressing his teammates. I was absolutely certain of my location and was really disappointed to have been subjected such a tactic and in fact it is the first time I have ever encountered active deception in a race. It’s the norm in passing to hear something positive like “nice job,” “go get’em,” or “everything alright?…great.” Teams may not necessarily help one another but they don’t actively work against one another which renders the sport appealing. Turning off your headlamp while hitting and leaving a CP in the dark so as not to light it up for the world to see is one thing, but pointing in the wrong direction is simply unattractive. Enough opined about that.
Upon reaching the CP2 area we learned from the personnel we had to paddle a small one-person under-inflated boat across the pond to the control flag, punch our passport, and then return across the pond. The boats tended to want to pivot when paddled rather progress forward which made headway challenging. Only one person from each team had to go across—soloists had no option. I did the deed then back on the bike to CP3. It was now light enough to turn off my bike lights and preserve battery life. I returned up the trail then cut through the bush to return to gravel as soon as possible. It was gravel roads and a couple of turns to locate another pond and CP3. I located the pond without difficulty only to discover the flag on a downed tree in its center. I dropped my pack and waded into the waist deep pond, ankle deep in muck, and worked my way out to punch my card. I exited the water and was now anointed with the not only mud covered cycling shoes but its associated putridity as well.
The fourth CP was straightforward and located at a trail/jeep trail intersection. A route choice presented itself with either taking the Berryman trail into the Berryman Campground and the Bike/Trek transition area (TA) or backtrack on the jeep trail up to the ridgeline gravel road which also hits the TA. I chose the latter again despite the longer distance due to travel speed it offered and hit the TA after 20 miles on this first cycling stage. I changed into my dry trekking shoes with wet socks leaving behind my bike, helmet, and cycling shoes at the TA in roughly 5 minutes.
A short jog down a jeep trail took me to the Ozark Trail which harbored both CP6 and CP7. Checkpoint 6 was located at the HWY 8 crossing and was the only location we could cross or in any way use HWY 8. I then had to cross a stream (damp shoes were now saturated) and headed up hill to CP7 where the trail crossed a jeep trail. I then took a right (west) on the jeep trail until it turned northwest at which time I continued west and bushwacked down the hill to a power line corridor. I followed the powerline corridor to the location of the first “mystery event” near the shore of the Courtois River.
At the manned location I had to strap-on a climbing harness with two straps with carabineers at the end. I had to climb the telephone style pole about 15 feet in the air then traverse walking along a guy wire to another telephone pole located about 150 meters away. There were two additional wires about shoulder height to which we attached the carabineers for safety. About every 20 meters or so there were wires going between the wire I was walking on up to each shoulder-height wire on either side. Therefore, one at a time, a carabineer would have to be unlocked and moved around to the other side of these bracing cables before proceeding any further. Towards the center of the traverse moving the ‘beeners became more difficult as balance became more difficult. It probably took 5 or 10 minutes to cross. The task was fun but the palms of my Seal Skin paddling gloves liked it so much they elected to distribute themselves along the abrasive, rusty steel cables—oh well, better they than Todd’s palms.
The eighth checkpoint was a cave about a mile away. I think some teams elected to head back up the power line corridor then along a ridge line to approach the cave from above. I went right into the river and trekked downstream cutting across gravel bars where it made sense to do so. At the right time I exited the stream and headed around a hill and located the cave about 25 feet up a steep embankment. After scrambling up I could see the flag located about 20 feet into the cave which was only about 2 ½ feet high so there was no choice but to lay down, get dirty, and belly crawl to punch the control card. There was no room to turn around so it was then fun to back out the same way.
It was a short trek to the HWY 8 bridge over the Courtois River, under which was CP9 and the trek to paddle TA. This trekking stage was roughly 6 miles in length. I dropped my pack at my boat and then ran about ¼ mile to a small store where I purchased two sports drinks and a Red Bull to consume on the paddle as I was now very low on fluids. It probably cost me 10 minutes plus energy but was a better prospect than drinking river water with cattle upstream.
It was very nice to get on the river and sit for a while on something more than a minimal cycle seat. I have a nice seat and braces for my feet which is makes it rather like “strapping on” my boat. The river was shallow at times as it always is come late summer into fall but I managed the entire 9.5 mile section without having to get out except to portage around a low-water concrete bridge. Since there were no CP’s on this section I had my pack and map case stashed in a trash back to keep them dry. One aspect of not using the map was that after some time you keep thinking that the takeout must be “just around the next bend” but it always disappointed. After several hours I did find the elusive “next bend” and CP10 at the east end of Bass Resort.
I was instructed to take my paddle and PFD along with my pack with me as I headed to the location of the second “mystery event.” It was a short trek (~1/4 mile) to the local where I was told to drop all my gear and head to the center of this field. In the center of the field was an obstacle course of sorts constructed of large (6 or 7 foot diameter) round hay bales. Some were stationed alone while others were stacked in pyramid fashion. We simply had to go over the top of each bale or bale set along a straight line course which is fun when you are completely drenched with perspiration. I suppose its not unlike being tarred and feathered. It only took a few minutes to complete and then another short ¼ mile trek to the race start finish area, headquarters, and CP11. I had now completed the first part of the race and had been racing for nearly 8 hours. I was then handed an additional map and coordinates for 11 additional checkpoints.
I returned to my cabin a short distance to drop my paddle gear, plot the new points, change clothes, and re-supply. I targeted for a ½ hour transition and started my stopwatch. I one point I glanced down at my watch and I was 17 minutes in and I thought, cool all is good. A while later I glanced again and I was 17 minutes in…yikes I knew I must have inadvertently hit the button at some point and I no longer knew where I was time wise—stuff happens and so I did what I had to do then headed to HQ to checkout. I fear the transition may have gone upwards of 45 minutes but I’m not sure.
It was off on a 12.5 mile trek through CP’s 12, 13, 14, and 15, the latter of which was the Berryman Campground where I had dropped my bike earlier in the morning. I set a goal of hitting CP18 before dark. I took my trekking poles for this section and set out at a brisk 4 mph pace. It was about 5 miles of gravel road before heading off. The map indicated a trail or old road headed down in the proper direction but there was no such thing in site at the indicated location—I suppose it was now very overgrown. Twelve was located at a junction of two creeks in a valley according to the map. Unfortunately the entire area seemed to have dry creek beds everywhere and it was quite frustrating. This was by far the most difficult CP thus far but after much combing I finally located it. At one point I contemplated blowing it off and taking the 3 hour penalty but I persisted and finally found it. It probably only took 15 or 20 minutes of searching but it felt as if it was taking much longer. On the way towards CP13 I was thinking what a *itch that one would be for those searching in the dark.
Thirteen was a bushwhack up and over a hill to another creek bed. I intentionally headed off 15 degrees so when I hit the creek I would know that I had to head northeast up the bed to hit the flag. If you try to hit it directly and miss you would not be certain which direction to proceed. It worked like a champ.
I then bushwhacked up the next hill and along a ridgeline I intended to follow out to a gravel road. The ridgeline developed into a slightly overgrown jeep trail that lead me out to the intended road. It was then a matter of pacing 250 meters southwest on the road before dropping back into the bush and down a steep hill 150 meters to CP14. I returned uphill to the road which would lead me directly to the Berryman Camp, CP15, and the trek to bike TA. The legs were now very tired and although I was happy to be getting to the TA, I was uncertain how my weary legs were going to react to cycling on the technical single track trails I knew lay ahead.
As I arrived at the TA I noticed a group having a picnic at a pavilion at the camp. I decided to take a wide line to the TA and pass by the pavilion to ask to purchase a beverage of any description. One gentleman said “how about a Mountain Dew?” I indicated that it was perfect. They would not accept any payment and so I thanked them and headed to the TA proper and slammed the Dew in I’m sure record time. I had now been traveling nearly 13 hours.
I had a great transition of only 5 minutes or so; donning cycling shoes and helmet, stowing my trekking poles and shoes in/on my pack. It was now something like 5:45 to 6PM and if I didn’t muck around too much I would make my goal of CP 18 by dark and so I headed off. Eighteen was located at a flowing Artesian Well, a great water source and given I had only one bottle remaining I knew I needed to get there. I elected to take a road a short distance to the Ozark Trail crossing I had taken earlier in the day on the first trek out of this TA with the intention of taking the trail this time to the north in order to rendezvous with the Berryman Trail and thereby cut off some trail riding. Athough I had the best of intentions for some reason I could not find the trail crossing. I rode down the road for 9 tenths of a mile and knew I absolutely must have missed it. I rode back a ½ mile and still didn’t see it. After checking the map I knew the Berryman trail paralleled the road about 200 meters below so I just headed down the hill through the woods until I hit the Berryman and proceeded clockwise or west at this point. After several tenths of mile the trail didn’t “feel” right. I had ridden the entire 26 mile Berryman Trail loop probably 3 or 4 times in the past couple of years and this section did not seem correct. I stopped and looked at the map and the direction of travel jived as well as the terrain but nonetheless it still didn’t feel right. I elected to trust the map, compass, and terrain and proceeded with some looming doubt. Eventually the trail took a jaunt to the north which was my route-planned-queue to dismount and head west into the woods 75 meters to locate a small pond and the CP16. I left my bike and headed into the woods and there was the most beautiful little orange flag right where it should have been. I think what I experienced was similar to what sometimes happens to pilots that become disoriented in clouds or at night and if they then continue to fly be “feel” they will crash but if they trust the instruments and overcome how wrong they may feel they can come out of it successfully. Although it was not yet dark, my thinking was a bit clouded and contributed to the disoriented feel to the situation. Alas, it was a return the bike to continue down on the trail I now knew to be the Berryman to CP17.
I had planned to hit a small parallel road section to cut off some trail riding to seventeen but after the previous incident I elected to stick to the trail. Eventually, up and over several hills and through several valleys I hit the creek down which CP17 was located. It was now entering twilight but I had only 2 to 3 miles to hit CP18 and more importantly water. Sticking again to the trail I hit the CP in 20 minutes. I re-supplied with water, turned on my lights and headed up a long climb on a jeep trail to a ridge gravel road that would lead me to CP19 back at Bass Resort.
The 10 miles remaining in this section from here were pretty fast. I passed three or four teams on foot heading out to CP12, their headlamps piercing the once again pitch black cloudy night. It began to rain and I saw the occasional flash of cloud to cloud sheet lightening—I gathered that the arms of Rita had now embraced central Missouri. I thought back to CP12 and how much fun they were going to have finding it in the dark and rain and I empathized. I road as fast as I could and uttered an encouraging “nice job guys” as I passed each group headed towards me. On two downhill sections my speedometer eclipsed 30mph which can be quite sketchy on wet and loose gravel. Part of me was hoping for an early end to the race due to the seemingly looming threat of severe weather given the upcoming paddling section and I think I got a race-end adrenaline boost. I was out-of-the-saddle and hammering up each hill and savoring the speed on each downhill. It was not long until I entered the river valley and a short flat section leading into Bass Resort and CP19 at HQ. I had now been traveling for roughly 16 hours.
I headed back to my cabin and stowed by cycling gear and collected my paddle gear and glow sticks. I resupplied, slammed two Mountain Dews and a spaghettios lunch cup and checked out at HQ for the second paddle section—I’m not certain but I think I had about a 15 minute transition. I rendezvoused with my boat this time on the western end of Bass Resort and activated the chemical glow sticks and attached them to the bow and stern of the boat as well as my PFD. With only my LED headlamp to illuminate the blackness, I headed out on the paddle in the now light but steady rain. Again it was fortunate that there were no CP’s on the paddle section as it would have been difficult to both paddle and avoid obstacles as well as track position. The river flowed well on this section and I paddled hard and made really good time—probably upwards of 5mph. Eventually I flowed into the Huzzah River and later arrived at the low water bridge and the canoe takout at CP20. This 6 mile dark paddle section was so very sureal. As I scanned the river my headlamp would reflect from the retinas of lord knows what cridders lurking along the banks and in the trees. One tree dwelling creature followed me with its eyes as I passed from being upriver to downriver from it. I looked over my shoulder and it was still watching. A number of bats buzzed around the boat for a period as well. I would see all manner of things ahead in the water as my tired mind would naturally complete the fuzzy information and turn it into something real like a person wading in the water or a deceased cow. Not until literally directly at the object would I come to realize it was only a partially submerged tree. I was never actually alarmed or frightened but simply took it all in like the dark indoor flume ride at Six Flags—something new around every corner highlighted by the rain drops illuminated by my headlamp and the occasional flash of lightening. This section I will never forget.
I hit the takeout and took a second to warm by the fire they had raging to compensate for the rain. I extended my trekking poles and headed across the bridge on the final 7 miles of trekking. At this point I knew I was going to finish the race.
The first check point on this section, CP21, was at the entrance to Bat Cave. It was a 1+ mile trek before heading across the Huzzah River then down its bank for a period while searching above for the cave. I felt a really cool breeze and realized the cave must be above and I scrambled higher up the bank and found the rather large cave. The cave was gated to protect the bat habitat and there was a large plastic container sitting under the flag on the gate with the words “Congratulations—You are almost finished!” Inside was an abundant supply of tasty confections—I had a wonderful jelly donut. They were all sticky from the suger-humidity interaction but at that point it really didn’t matter.
From there it was a ¼ mile trek along a narrow and now very slick ledge 10 feet above the river bank to hook up with the northern section of the Ozark Trail. Once I found the trail my navigation was over and only two CP’s remained. By now my feet were on fire but I focused on the trail and tried not to think about the 5+ mile death march remaining. After a big climb out of the river valley I hit CP22, and as I got closer I realized it was up a tree. They had tied ropes, taughtly, spaced every 2 to 3 feet between the tree housing the CP and a neighboring tree so it was a matter of climbing a ladder with widely spaced rungs. Once high enough it took me a minute or two to coordinate holding the control card and punching the flag without falling—its like one of those times you could really use a third hand. With that accomplished it was one more CP to go.
Walk and walk and walk and walk, then walk some more. Checkpoint 23 was across from an adjoining jeep trail and so every time I would come to one I would hope and expect it to be “the one.” I was really hungry now and for the first time my stomach growled but I just didn’t want to eat anything I had. Finally I came to the "one" and saw the flag. I punched it and then only had something less than 2 miles to go. A trek out on this trail to the only paved road on the course and down the hill into Bass Resort and the finish.
I jogged in the last 2 tenths of mile and arrived at HQ and the finish ~20.5 hours and 80 some-odd miles after starting the journey to little fan fair which was fine me as this was personal. It was almost 1:30AM and the directors and a few volunteers hanging-out appeared tired from their long day and weeks of preparation. They checked my control card and then said nice job…you are the second place soloist. It was more than I had hoped for on this very personal, physical, mental, and logistical challenge. I sat down for a moment and enjoyed the hot baked potato smothered in butter they had for the finishers. I then headed back to the cabin for some well deserved rest.
(This is meant as a personal journal and has not been proofed for grammar etc. so please forgive any errors.)
