Mission: Adventure Race

May 27, 2006

As defending champions, we had high hopes coming into this year's version of the Mission: Adventure Race in southern Indiana. Those hopes were tempered by the realization that this year's field would likely be stronger since it was now a USARA Nationals qualifier. It appears from the start list that the premier division (3-person co-ed) will likely be a three-team struggle between us, local favorites Citgo/Grey Goat (who held us off until the final segment last year), and the Wellsport team coming all the way from California. Our original entry was me, Vicki, and Brad, but he injured his hamstring at the Memphis in May Triathlon, so Doug steps in to complete the team.

On the drive there, we get an omen when a bird flies right over the car. We look out the back window and see only feathers and figure the rest of the bird is now attached to somebody's bike. The next rest stop confirms Doug as the lucky winner and he spends a few moments separating the bird from his brake and shifter cables. If we thought that would get the weirdness out of the way for the weekend, we were truly mistaken.

We get to the main transition area just as they are starting to serve dinner. After checking in and eating the standard pre-race fare, we get the standard pre-race set of warnings and are told to go play a round of mini-golf. We decide to setup our TA first, so by the time we are playing our round, the only other team there is the late-arriving Wellsport. We chat with them a bit and find that they made the trip because one of their members lives in Wisconsin and they decided it was about time they did a race near him for a change.

The campground sports what has to be the saddest mini-golf course in America. The holes (all 8 of them, not sure what happened to #9) are all in disrepair making them more than a match for our feeble skills. Our success is further impaired by the fact that it's getting pretty dark and there are no lights. We figure this round will likely be the subject of a mid-race quiz so before turning in our scorecard, we take care to memorize our pathetic scores and some other miscellaneous features of the course.

Back at the motel (where a smile and $90 gets you a room with 2 double beds - Indy 500 rates apparently extend this far south), we realize we're short one ATC. That's not the sort of thing we can pick up at Wal-Mart, so we decide to try to forage among the other teams at the motel. Vicki strikes paydirt when Wellsport produces an extra belay device. It's a strange combination ascender/belayer and at first I can't figure out how it works. I go over to them to get more instructions and am shown it's just an ATC in a weird shape that allows it to serve an additional purpose. I thank them profusely and am once again reminded of the amateur sports progression (novice, intermediate, jerks who think they are experts, and at the top, generally cool folks who are confident enough that they don't mind helping the competition here and there). Clearly, this gesture is an indication that they'll be tough out on the course tomorrow.

At just before 6:00 AM, we all assemble in the field next to the TA for the start. The race director asks for one member from each team to line up. That person will run around the small pond at the TA and present three pieces of gear in exchange for the maps. One of the items is the spare tube, which is back at the TA with the bikes so at the word go, everybody scrambles as teams try to grab the gear items before their runners get around the lake. Naturally, we've given the running task to Doug. Vicki grabs the tube from the bike while I dig through my pack for the water purification drops and bandages. Unlike last year when Doug blew the field away on the start run, this time he holds back a bit and comes by in fifth place. We give him the gear and then grab a prime spot in the main shelter for plotting our points. Doug comes back with the maps just as I've got my plotting tools laid out.

One of my goals this year is to improve on plotting. We typically lose considerable time on this task. Vicki and I practiced a bit at Planet Adventure and I've been doing some practice on my own. So it's with no small satisfaction that I slide the map into the case and look up to see that we are the first team out onto the course.

The first section looks like about 2 hours worth of trekking. A few of the controls are moderately technical, which is always good for us. The course notes advise that there will be plenty of nasty vegetation. Long pants and Zanfel are recommended. Zanfel, a poison ivy treatment, is a sponsor of the race and we find the product placement in the course notes amusing, but it really is good advice - the woods are loaded with our three-leaved freinds.

On each loop, we can take controls in any order. Upon completing a loop, we'll be given coordinates for another loop. This continues until either 18 hours have passed or we've swept the course. On the last loop, there's no penalty for skipping, but if you skip on any other loop, you get docked a control (in addition to the control you didn't get). We decide the best order for the first loop is 7,6,5,3,4,2,1. Seven and six go without incident and on the way to 5, we stop for what Tour de France broadcaster Phil Liggett likes to call a "natural break." We continue on and spike 5 but when I look down at my hand I'm mortified to find the punch card isn't there. In the several hundred orienteering and adventure races I've done, I've never dropped a punch card, so the best explanation is that I simply didn't pick it up after the break.

Vicki and Doug are surprisingly calm about all this and we head back to the spot where we stopped without either lifting or dropping the pace (either of which is a common mistake). The card is there, so the damage is limited to the 20-minute round trip going back for it. This effectively converts a spike into a very bad boom, but it is the sort of error you can bounce back from. In fact, we are still in first place at the end of the loop, albeit only by a few mintues.

At the TA, we are given just a single point: 631000, 432475. It doesn't look right to me. It's one of those weird things like seeing a word misspelled, but not being able to come up with the correction. I try plotting the point several times, each time coming up with a point that doesn't seem quite right. I write the coordinates on the map in case I've plotted it wrong and we head out on the bikes.

On the way to the control, the race director passes us and then stops to take our picture as we round a corner. We get to a spot on the road just north of my plot. We can look into a farm and see that there is clearly no control (this is made more obvious by the fact that this is supposed to be a manned control). The race director is driving back our way and I flag him down. Normally, I wouldn't ask for assistance with something like this, but last year we were given some bad coordinates so I figure he owes me one. I explain that the plot should be 75 meters north of the grid tick, which is where we have it. He checks the coordinate and says we've got it wrong, but that's all he can tell us. At that point I finally realize what's been bugging me about the UTM pair: both coordinates have the same number of digits. That never happens - the second number should always have an extra digit. Putting a zero on the end of the second number means the point is 750 meters north of the grid tick. We turn around and see another road leading north, presumably to the manned control. Six hundred meters later, we find a volunteer holding one of those horrible rafts from last year. I am filled with dread at what might come next.

Actually, it turns out to be pretty fun. Six rafts are strung across a small pond, connected by ropes. We have to get across as a team by hopping from boat to boat and pulling on the ropes. We're none too good at it, but it only takes a few minutes and does lighten the mood a bit. Having completed the crossing, we are given six more points. Field plotting is always a pain, but we get them plotted fairly accurately. We can take them in any order, but the numerical sequence seems to be the only one that makes sense. Most are on roads, but a few will require a bike drop.

One such control is the next one we take. It looks easy on the map, but the woods are very thick and we miss it. After relocating and hitting it, we've been caught by Wellsport. When we pick up our bikes, we see that Citgo has arrived as well. A control later, Citgo (always a powerhouse on the bikes) has run us down. We split routes and are on our own again. After a short section of single track to get 12. We drop the bikes for the next control, opting to run along a stream rather than follow an ATV track that looks like it will contain a lot of climb. When we get there Doug (who has taken over punch card duties after my lapse) asks, "So, we're getting 13 out of order." No, we just got 13,... didn't... we...?

There in the far southwest corner of the map is a lonely control circle, left off the route I had drawn in to connect the controls. I'm not sure how I missed it, since we had just plotted the points, but we've gone straight from 12 to 14, and going back will add nearly an hour to our time. Skipping a control will result in an additional penalty control. We're getting controls at a little better than one every half hour, so it's almost a toss up as to whether to skip. I'm torn because I know that falling behind could be a problem at choke points like the ropes sections. Then again, 13 might be a ropes control in which case we'd get hit with an additional delay waiting for other teams that have no doubt passed us by now. After some brief discussion, we decide to go back.

As I'd feared, 13 is a ropes control. Wellsport and Citgo are already through the zip-line and several other teams are queued up. We're told the zip-line has been deemed too dangerous (several competitors hit rocks and trees) and will be shut down. While we won't get an additional penalty, we won't get credit for 13, either. I'm dismayed that we could have saved ourselves an hour by just not coming back here, but the race director tells us to hike around to the bottom of the zip-line and we'll find that it was good to come back. At the base of the cliff, any doubts about the skip decision are dispelled as we are given an entire trekking loop to complete before proceeding with the bike leg.

The navigation on this loop is trivial. At the first control we have to climb a 10m cliff. Citgo is just finishing up so there are two routes available. Vicki goes up the easier route, which is somewhere in the 5.6-5.7 range. I'm a bit intimidated by the other route, which looks all of 5.8 to me. In trail shoes, that's about my limit. Still, it's a free rope and we need to make up time, so I give it a try. Halfway up, I'm stuck scaling a crack and can't find any good handholds. I remember David saying something last year about a tough route up this same cliff where he was stuck on a crack and reached up blindly and found a bucket-sized hold at the top of the crack. I look up and there is a small ledge that looks like it might be hollow inside. I stretch to reach it, and, sure enough, it might as well be a chin-up bar. I swing myself up to the next set of footholds and it's easy from there. Doug takes the same route, availing himself of the same handhold. Vicki makes quick work of the other route and we're on our way.

At the end of the loop, we are confronted with the longest diagonal ascent I've ever seen. The rope rises nearly 30m at roughly a 45 degree angle. Wellsport is on another line nearby. One of their members is already at the top. There's no sign of Citgo. It only takes each of us about 10 minutes, but it seems like an eternity. By the top, I decide it might well be the toughest single task I've ever done in an adventure race. It will hold that honor for only a few hours.

It's 4:40 PM, nearly seven hours since we left the TA and there's still an hour of riding to get back. We're running low on food, but have enough to get back. Water is another story. We've already refilled once, but the heat of the day has us dry again. We could refill from the river, but figure that since we're right in Vernon, we should be able to find a faucet somewhere. We do coax a rather surly liquor store owner into letting us fill up. I offer to buy a drink off him if he has something non-alcoholic, but this remark seems to offend more than the original request.

Since we already got 14, we get back to the TA only a few minutes behind Wellsport. This next loop involves paddling to two controls and then seven controls on foot. I want to get the foot controls during daylight, so we leave the first paddle control for the end of the loop. As we put in, we can see Wellsport heading the other way towards the first paddle control.

The race instructions say we have to paddle all the way to the second paddle control before ditching the boat. The only problem is that the reservoir we're on is very low and doesn't connect to the stream the control is on. We paddle up onto the mud back and hop out to find the mud is several feet deep. Vicki, in particular is sinking very badly and has to hold onto the boat to avoid going in above her waist.

As a teenager, I used to work in marshes helping my dad do field surveys for environmental impact statements. I got pretty good at getting through deep mud. I did get stuck in quicksand once, so I have no trouble empathizing with the reaction of horror that overtakes Vicki and Doug. I try to help them with the proper technique for planting your foot so you don't sink (or loose your shoe), but it's not the sort of thing you pick up right away. After fifteen minutes of flailing around, we've moved the boat about 30 meters and have another 30 to go. Wellsport arrives and, seeing us stuck, wisely heads to firmer shores. By the time we've finally got the boat onto the beach, they've passed us, but I'm beyond caring. All of us collapse on the shore, exhausted from the effort. The diagonal ascent is now a pleasant memory.

After a few minutes, we are recovered enough to continue. Just before reaching the stream we are surprised to see Wellsport coming back the other way. The stream is navigable and they're wondering if we should carry the boats to comply with the drop rule. I feel we've already made a legitimate effort to comply and really doubt the race director will DQ the top two teams if they both agree the mud was impassible. Satisfied with that, they turn around and we all head to 24 on foot. It's good that we're together because the control is misplaced. With both teams together, we find it without the usual panic and frustration that goes along with locating a mis-hung bag. After that we split.

Two controls later, we're back together again, except that they've only got one in that time. We're still down a control (#13), but this is encouraging. We try to split again to gain more time, but they end up ahead of us. By the last control, it's starting to get dark, but we can see well enough to get back to the boats without lights. Wellsport's boat is still beached along with a handful of others.

We get the other paddling control at 9:30, amazed that we can still see OK without lights. We push hard on the way back hoping we'll still have enough light to see where the really bad mud is along the bank. Although it's nearly dark, we can see the spot where we put in and remember it wasn't too bad. We get back to the TA shortly before 10PM and are surprised to find that we're in the lead (although the skip at 13 is still a liability).

Wellsport shows up just a couple minutes later and beats us through transition onto the final bike leg. There are four controls on this leg and it looks like it will be very tough to get them all. I figure the only way we can make up a control at this point is to pressure Wellsport into going for all of them and having them come in late. We ride the loop reasonably well, but they don't go for the trap. We both skip the last control and we get back at 11:32, just a few minutes behind them.

We're told there's one final control in the pond that Doug ran around at the start. Somebody has to swim out there and punch it. We immediately nominate Vicki, who's the only real swimmer in the group. She gets it quickly and we hand in our final card at 11:40PM.

While the problems with the course did mar the race a bit (particularly the ropes which have had safety issues two years in a row), Wellsport beat us cleanly and deserved the win. One can't expect to win a qualifier making two big mistakes like that. It was a classic case of one person doing too much. Vicki and Doug aren't newbies anymore and I need to hand off more tasks to them so I can stay focused on navigation and strategy. Still, it was a good race for us and we certainly had fun despite the uncharateristic mishaps. The second place finish does qualify us for nationals.

The strangest (and scariest) incident was yet to come, however. On the drive home, we were discussing safety in adventure racing and what sort of things the competitors have control over and when you really are at the mercy of the race organizers (zip lines, nighttime paddling through rapids, etc.). At the height of this conversation, we came up behind a bass boat on a trailer and the seat flew off, bounced twice on the road and then up over the car, putting a pretty nasty dent in the roof. A few inches lower and it would have come through the windshield. As we continued on we all agreed that was way more dangerous than anything we'd ever done in a race.