NOC Adventure Race 2000
March 11-12, 2000
Drew Wilson
Derek Kozlowski
Renee Johnson
This past weekend, Mar. 10-12, Team
BikeWorx of Spartanburg, competed in the Nantahala Outdoor Center Adventure
Race 2000 in Bryson City, NC. The event
was a co-ed competition, and our team included Renee Johnson, Drew Wilson, and
myself. We also had a most excellent
support crew: Maria Wilson and Karl
Johnson. We were initially introduced
to the idea of racing by Drew, who assured us it would be 'fun'!
In preparation for the race, we competed
in a series of endurance races in January: a 21 mi. trail run, a 45 mi. mtn.
bike race, and a 23 mile kayak race. We
were able to compete in these events without too much difficulty, so we felt pretty
confident as a team that we would be able to handle the challenge of the
adventure race. For those of you
unfamiliar with these type races, it is very similar to the Discovery Channel
Eco-Challenge, the Raid, etc. A
multi-event race, consisting of hour after hour of strenuous physical
endurance.
Our race was comprised of four separate
disciplines: mountain biking, hiking, orienteering, and paddling. The normal progression for this type race is
to check in, pass all of the mandatory gear inspections the day before, and
then get your course packet and maps the night before the race. This is a critical time for this type of a
race as it is here that you really take your time to make sure you are ready
for each leg of the race, and you know where you are going. You can imagine our surprise when we were
told we would not receive our maps until the race STARTED at 6:00 am Sat.
morning! Needless to say, we spent a
long night in disbelief at this turn of events.
We did, however, know that the race would
last 30 hrs. (after which teams not finished would be assisted to the finish
line, taking a DNF, or did not finish.
This is important, as the letters DNF will come to mean the most
horrific thing that can happen to your team should you decide this type of
sport is right for you!) We packed our
gear and laid out clothing as the weather outside deteriorated into a blazing
thunder and lightning storm. We knew we
were in for a wild ride the next morning.
We awoke at 4:30 am on Sat. to find that
the sky had cleared to a light drizzle, with temps in the 50's. A little unpleasant, but nothing new for
this area of the country in March. We
quickly ate a light breakfast, and hurried with all of our gear to the start
line. At 6:00 am, the race began, and
we finally received our packets telling us what grid coordinates the
checkpoints were located at, and what the sequence of events would be. Team Bikeworx made a tactical decision to
plot all of our points first, taking almost two hours to complete and laminate
all of our maps. As we worked
diligently on our orienteering, other
teams were leaving the start line amid much cheering and camaraderie
The first leg of the race was to be a 40
mile mtn. bike ride through some of the most rugged country the Nantahala has
to offer. We were able to find most of
our checkpoints easily, and we had lots of help from other racers. I need to add a note about the racing ethic
at these events. A high percentage of
the checkpoints are not manned and have only a punch to use to mark your race
passport. Help from other racers is a
big source of information during the race, and one can choose to not give this
information to retain a tactical advantage.
It is, after all, a race. As we
came upon cp 3, we watched another team blaze by the obvious turnoff to the
cp. As team captain, I made a decision
NOT to tell this team they were passing the checkpoint. I put this in to call attention to the fact
that we all grew during this event, and I made a decision here that I later
regretted. So many people helped us to
achieve our personal finish line that I feel regret at not having helped this
team. I don't know who these racers
were, but I hope they accept my apology.
We completed the first bike portion of
the race without too much difficulty.
Renee decided at one point that she needed to check the underside of her
bike for scratches, and made the mistake of doing this at a high rate of
speed! Although she was a little shook
up and scraped, she avoided serious injury and decided to continue. We were very tired and wet, due to the rain
that continued to fall harder throughout this leg of the race, but finally we
turned into cp5, which was also a supported transition area. Here we met up with our support crew and the
hot cocoa and oatmeal they had ready for us.
Man, I never knew cocoa could taste like that!!! We changed into a dry (everything, including
dryness, is relative at this point!) set of clothes, and prepared for our next
unsupported portion of the race.
We were to canoe across a long reservoir,
drop the canoes at a cp, and then hike through the night, return to the canoes,
and head back to our support crew. In
looking over our maps, we saw that we might cut 3-5 miles out of the canoe if
we portaged a mile overland, and put our canoe in the water at a different
location. I should point out to all of
you who might be considering this type of race that it pays to notice how much
water is in a reservoir at the time of your race. It also seems appropriate to say that a lake bed that has been
drained is still a lake bed. When it
rains, it becomes just as mucky as it is when it is actually under the
lake! Our one mile portage turned into
a 1 1/2 mile slog through ankle to knee deep sucking mud that smelled much like
rotting fish! Drew and I carried the
canoe while Renee shouted words of encouragement, like "I can't see water
but I know it is here!" and "Just 200 more yards guys!" (she
said this so many times that I finally figured out that two hundred yards was
only the distance between us and our closest competitors, not to the water!)_
Finally, we found deep water, rinsed the
mud as well as we could, and began to paddle.
Our "short cut" did pay off, and we had passed several teams
by the time we reached cp6. However, we
were quickly passed by other teams who had opted to use kayak paddles in the
canoes. As a friend has said,
"This was Mistake #1".
It rained, we paddled, it poured, we
paddled, and for a brief moment the sun came out in the most precious sunset I
have ever seen and still we paddled.
Little did we know that in 20 min., the peace we knew from the beautiful
sunset would be shattered by circumstances none of us could foresee.
Storms are common in the mountains, and
this particular evening, a storm came in that very nearly cost us more than a
race. Within 20 min. of sun setting
(and total darkness) we were engulfed in 20-25 mph winds, and waves that were
starting to come over the bow of the boat.
The three of us paddled non-stop for the next 2.5 hours as if our lives
depended on it. Had we let up for one
instant and turned sideways to the wind, we would have been in for more
'adventure' than any of us had paid for.
It was at this point in the race that we went from competition to
survival mode. We fought our way
towards the dock and the last cp with everything we had. Unfortunately we relied very heavily on a
Polish navigator, who failed to notice we had paddled about 1/2 mile past the
turnoff for our cp. Add to this the
trouble of getting our map back from the black waters of the lake where the
wind had flung it (Twice!!) and you can see that we were all very tense. After much yelling, motivational English,
and even a bit of French, we finally pulled into cp8. As we got out of the canoe, we watched as another team was
brought in from the lake after capsizing their canoe. The cry for help their flares sent out was, luckily, answered
quickly. Were it not for the race
coordinator and many helpful teams in the vicinity, their story might have been
very different.
At cp8, we were able to retreat from the
weather to a campground bathroom long enough to change clothes again (this time
into the last of the semi-dry garments we still carried) and warm a little from
the cold. The temperature was dropping
fast, and at this point was in the high 30's.
We changed quickly and moved on, knowing
we had to make cp 12 by 2:00 am in order to continue the race. The next obstacle to overcome would be the
hiking portion, provided the map work we had done was correct.
We started hiking by ascending a tangle
of mountain laurel and briars toward a trail that was rumored to be on a ridge
some 1200 ft above us. If you have ever
had to bushwhack in the mountains, you will understand the difficulty of this
task. I would like to go on record at
this point and say that I have never met
bush I felt needed whacking, and I don't foresee meeting one in the near
future. To say that this was miserable
would be a serious understatement. NOT
TOO GOOD! But, after Renee finally took
the lead, we found the top of the ridge and the goat trail that would lead us
to cp9. We found 9 easily, and pushed on towards cp10. This cp was along a ridge that was exposed
to the full extent of the weather, which was by now blowing very cold winds and
snow at us. One thing is for sure, if
you don't like the weather in Nantahala, wait ten minutes and you are sure to
like it even less!
We met several other teams on this ridge,
and began to hike with a group that was going in the same direction (or MIS-direction)
as we were. We were very glad for the
company, and anything that kept our minds off eating another powerbar was a
welcome relief! Again, I don't remember
their names, but they were great! We
hiked hard to cp 10, and were about to go on to 11 when we met several other
teams lamenting the fact that 11 was not too be found. We searched in vain for an hour ourselves
before finally coming to the realization that we would not make the 2:00 am
cutoff to 12 even if we found cp11. As
a team, we made the difficult decision to abandon our search and concentrate on
getting back to civilization.
At this point we could see lights. We decided that lights meant houses
(hopefully), houses mean a road, and a road goes SOMEWHERE! We beat feet down the ridge in search of
SOMEWHERE!
I was beginning to get tired and bored of
hiking, and those of you who know me understand that I get a little, well, a
little giddy in situations like this. I
seemed to find humor in everything at this point, even when I did a full butt
plant in a huge mud puddle. (OK, Renee,
maybe you can't jump over that puddle.
Sure looked like it though!).
Anything to break the monotony of the moment was welcome, and we were
all still able to giggle a little at this point. And we hiked on.
Somewhere around 3, I lost all sense of
humor, and succumbed to nausea and an extreme headache. I knew I was fading fast, but I was too
tired and weak to do anything about it.
Fortunately Renee took pity on me and gave me a powerbar. The little bit of this I was able to choke
down brought me back a little, and I think Renee and Drew enjoyed seeing ME
down for once. (OK, so I tease a
little!). Drew was beginning to suffer
extreme pain in his ankles, and it was agony for him to even walk. I kept assuring him we only had 200 yards to
go, but it didn't help him any more than it did me when Renee tried this
trick. We were a long way from nowhere!
We hiked, hurt, suffered, shivered, and
generally limped on heart to cp12, where there was a radio we could use to get
in touch with our support crew to tell them our race had finished. We waited at cp12 until 6:00 am, and the
most welcome sight in the world was before us: My white truck, Karl, and Maria. I don't know what has ever compared to this
moment. Nothing comes to mind.
While our race ended here, and we were
officially DNF, in my mind we had reached our finish line. I don't know whether my games are getting
harder, or I am getting older, but I have received a lot of DNF's lately. I have come to the realization that this is
OK. We tried hard, we pushed our
limits, and we dealt with what came our way.
As a team we were strong when we needed to be, we helped each other when
one was down, and we grew through our suffering. I no longer think of pain as an enemy; it has taken on the role
of a teacher. If you push until you
hurt and then quit, you are just hurt.
But if you push until you hurt, and then you continue to push, a new
awareness is opened to you and what you are able to accomplish. You realize that anything is attainable, and
that pain is only your body's way of saying you are pushing yourself to a
higher plane.
While I spent most of last weekend
uncomfortable, I spent it in the company of friends. I made many friends during our preparation for this race, and got
to know my teammates and other competitors as the truly great athletes they
are. I am proud of my team, and even
more so to call them friends. If you are
interested in joining the growing numbers of adventure racers, I applaud you. It is tough, but the rewards are worth
it. If you think all of this sounds
like a bad screen play and we are insane for even attempting it, I have to
agree with you!
All I can say is "Look out NOC, We
will be back"
koz
We woke up at 4:30am
Sat. morning after sleeping through one of the worst thunderstorms and heavy
rainfall of our lives. The race outline was much different than we had
anticipated. They gave us the grid coordinates and maps in the morning where we
spent as much as 1hr. 30min. plotting our course. We plotted the entire course,
which in hindsight may have not been the best choice. we didn't spend enough
time analyzing our routes we only plotted the cp's (checkpoints), some
checkpoints were manned other, most others were not, before we left. just as we started off on the first
leg it started raining. We biked from around 8am till ta1 (transition area)
where we pulled in around 2:30pm about 45 miles of mountainous terrain. We had
a hard time finding a couple of cp's and as you can imagine it rained the whole
time. All my mandatory rainproof gear was thoroughly soaked after 5 hour riding
in the rain. Besides having to drop off
our bikes at TA3 and hike up the top of a mountain. all we did was ride and get
sand and grit everywhere. We luckily had no mechanical problems, Renee had one
spill going down a mountain but was only skinned up a little.
We took our time at the
1st ta (transition area) where Maria and Karl had set up a place for us to
change get some warm food and change into some dry clothes which would get wet
as the others as it continued to rain. Luckily the daily temps were mild so we
weren't cold yet! We were forewarned that we would be on our own with no
support for up to 20 hours from here on. So we stockpiled food and water and
dry clothes for one last change. Because we knew it was going to quit raining
eventually.
At 2:30 pm On this
section, we noted a shortcut that would save about 1.5 hours paddling by
portaging the canoe through some woods. Well Fontana is a mountain reservoir
and it was down something like 50 feet. We ended up carrying the canoe for
about an hour till we finally hit the lake because the water was so far down.
We started paddling
with Drew steering and Derek up front, Renee in the middle. It rained on us for
a couple hours, we hit the first couple of cp's without incident and then the
sun came out, It was wonderful, My clothes, nylon shells were drying out and
getting warm and then it stared raining again. with darkness coming quickly due
to heavy cloud cover. Around 6pm the winds pick up with 20-30 mph gusts. Since I was steering it had the
difficult task of keeping the bow straight. Derek was yelling at me often out of fear rather than frustration because
he could see the waves cresting in front some of which splashed over the bow.
The water was very cold. As it got dark we were close by the CP8 and the boat
ramp but got confused and went down the lake about 1/2 mile before realizing it
and coming back. We thoroughly exhausted by that time it was about 8:30 pm (15
miles of paddling). Luckily it had quit
raining and they had a warm bathrooms so we stripped down to put on the last of
our dry clothes. For what was expected to be a 10 hour hike.
At this point our next
major obstacle was the mandatory cut off time at cp12 of 2am Sunday. At about
9pm sat. we set off through a bushwhack
section that was nearly impenetrable straight up. That section was very
depressing as we had no idea how much further or where we were going as it was
pitch black, very windy and snowing. We finally made it to the next cp and met
up with another team. It was now snowing at his time as it would most the
night. Thank god for the mandatory fleece and heavy thermals we were required
to carry. We walked on the ridge with this team for a while and met another
team up there. Renee and I were having problems with our lights. We hooked up with one team as the other one had
different plans which turned out to be a better route. We found cp 10 where we
met several other teams that were in as bad a shape as we. We couldn't find
cp11 so after searching for a while and by now it was closing in on 2am we knew we needed to give up and try to find
cp12. Like we said we were out in the middle of no-where. We found forest
service road that was deeply rutted and
over grown and took it down to where it met a paved road. We followed that for
3 hours. In the meantime my condition deeply deteriorated from bad to worse. I
could hardly walk as my heels were in bad shape with pain in every step. I
slowed down big time. We finally pulled into cp 12 around 5:30am Sunday. Where
we all waited under tarps or in vans
for Karl and Maria to drive the 35 miles to pick us up. We were through!
Only 18 of 59 teams
finished the entire course. The winning time was 25 hours and some change. We
could have ridden in from another area just to cross the finish line but we
were in no spirit or shape to finish after 21+hours of non-stop racing. Plus we
had no clothing gear that wasn't wet to wear on the bike while it was below
freezing.
We tried real hard for
this event but didn't finish the course. The only thing that stopped me were my
feet, I could have gone further had they not been so painful. It will still
take me weeks to recover them to 100%. This is definitely the hardest sport in
the world, you have to know a lot and
be really mentally tough. My mental toughness lasted that’s the only way I
walked those last 2 hours was to survive and get back home!
Another story
Friends of ours from
Charlotte
Carolina Adventurer
Racers
March 13, 00 Team members Lisa, Amy, and Reuben along
with our trusty crewman George returned
from the mountains of western NC this weekend where we were treated to an
unexpected clinic in winter survival.
Another possible title for this story could be "How Mandatory Gear
Saved Our Lives" or "How to Survive Hypothermia". Will adventure racing push you to the
limits? You bet your ass it will. It all started with beautiful sunny weather
on Friday as the team assembled and drove ourselves and a small mountain of
gear and bicycles up to the NOC for race registration and skills testing. After working our way thru some 8 to 10
registration stations which included a check of mandatory gear, skills tests,
bike check, and safety video, the team was able to retreat to our rooms and
actually relax before the race meeting
that evening. At the meeting we were
told that we would not be given the race coordinates and maps until the
starting line the next morning.
(Surprise #1) We woke up a
little late and arrived at the start line to find all the other teams waiting
on us. (Mistake #1) We were given our
maps and told we could start when we had figured out where we were going. Should we plot out the whole course before
leaving or try to plot the CP's as we went? (Big Decision #1) We spent about an hour plotting the course
to the first TA and getting our gear set and then hit the trail.
The bike leg went
well. We only made one small navigation
error which cost us about 20 minutes but we managed to find all the
checkpoints, even #4 which many teams missed causing some teams to back track
many miles to find. Early in the bike
leg the weather started to turn for the worse.
5 miles into it the rain was coming down in buckets and the temperature
was falling as well. At CP1 we stopped
to put on our Gore-Tex jackets. (Smart move #1) The route took us up and over Tellico Gap. At the top of the Gap we had to leave the
bikes and hike a mile up to a lookout tower at the top of the mountain for CP3,
and then run back down to our bikes and continue the ride. We had decided to do the hike in our riding
shoes as we did not want to carry the extra weight of our trail shoes. (Smart
move #2) It was now beginning to
sleet. With the exception of loosing a
cleat off of one of our riding shoes, which we were luckily able to find and
put back on with one screw, the ride was uneventful. The team pulled into CP5, the first TA, in a good position and in
high spirits. Now, do we take the time
to plot the rest of the course or wing it and take off hoping to follow others
into the CP's. (Big Decision #2) We decided to take the extra time and plot
most of the remaining course. Knowing
that the night hiking and foot navigation was our strongest point we reasoned
that the time would be well spent and that the advanced planning would pay off
later that night when we did not have to stop in the rain to plot coordinates
on soggy wet maps when we would most likely be very fatigued and half
delirious. Later we would hear that one
of these CP's was very difficult to find and many teams got lost trying to find
it or just skipped it all together. Our
decision to spend the extra time in the TA,
although reasonable at the time,
cost us dearly later that evening. (Mistake #2)
We put into the water
at around 3:00pm in a cold pouring rain, the three of us in one canoe, and headed off for what would be a very wild
and often very scary night. As we passed
through CP's and 7 we were making good time and commenting on how calm the water was and what a nice sunset it
was going to be. We left CP7 with one
canoe visible about 20 minutes in front of us.
About a 1-2 miles later the situation made a drastic turn for the
worse. It had been pouring rain on us
for the past 2 hours and the temperature had continued to drop. Then over the course of about 20 minutes we
went from glass smooth water to almost 2 foot swells being powered by a 20-25 mile per hour headwind. (Surprise #2) Some of the waves were large enough that even hitting them
straight on the water still splashed over the sides of our canoe. Steering in the back, my every third stroke
was spent fighting to keep us turned
straight into white capping waves that were threatening to swamp us. This left Amy and Lisa to do a lot of the
paddling, with an absolutely ferocious
headwind pushing against their every stroke.
By now it had become completely dark.
Oh, and did I mention that it had started to snow and sleet again! With temperatures dropping into the low
30's, (I don't even want to know what the wind chill was) and every thing we
were wearing soaked with water from hours of pouring rain, it did not take long
for all three of us to begin showing the early signs of hypothermia. After portaging over a small hill created by
an extremely low water line we were all shivering uncontrollably. This was turning into a life threatening
situation. If we could not get warmed
up soon, hypothermia would be setting in. We had not seen any lights or houses
in hours and the only canoe we had seen since we left had disappeared ahead of
us an hour ago. We were alone! A quick look at the map revealed that we
were still about 2 hours from the next CP, and in these conditions it could
easily turn into 4 hours. This is where
the extra time in the TA really hurt us.
If we had left sooner we would have been much closer to CP8 when the
storm hit, and our race would have gone much differently.
What to do, risk
almost certain hypothermia and the possibility of capsizing by continuing on,
or seek shelter and try to weather out the storm. (Big Decision #3) There
comes a time when you have to know your
own limits and set your priorities accordingly. We decided to stop, seek shelter, and weather out the storm. (Smart move #2) We beached the canoe and headed up into the tree line to find
shelter from the blasting wind. First
things first. Using the fuel tablets
from our Esbit stove and our waterproofed Zippo lighter, we started a
fire. Which was not easy considering
that it had been pouring rain all day.
Any Eagle Scout would have been proud of
our efforts. Within 30 minutes we had a very small but
hot fire. We took turns searching the
area for the driest possible twigs. Anything bigger than your pinky just would
not burn. When any of us stepped away
from the fire for even the quickest bathroom break or wood search, we returned
shivering violently.
Near midnight we
decided to try to sleep. We cut plastic
bags which had held our clothes (we were wearing everything we had), and laid
them on the ground. Next we got into
our emergency blankets, laid down together, and covered ourselves with the
mandatory sleeping bag. I had been
cussing this bag all day, but in the end it was worth it's weight in gold. This however, did not work.
Within 15 minutes we were all slipping into moderate hypothermia. When you realize that you do not have enough
clothes and equipment to keep your body warm and you are not able to go for or
call for help.....that is when it gets scary.
We quickly decided that our best chance was to build an even bigger fire
and keep it going all night. (Smart
move #3) We felt paddling out in this
weather would be impossible in our
current physical state, the threat of severe hypothermia was very real.
We spent the remainder of the
night taking turns keeping the fire going while we alternately slept next to
the fire in the one sleeping bag. It
snowed and sleeted on us the entire night, often covering our clothes and
sleeping bag. Much of our gear was half
frozen. After what seemed an eternity
the sun rose over the lake, and our spirits rose with it. We packed up, put out the fire, and headed
down to our canoe. By the time we
reloaded the canoe and got under way we had spent 12 hours pinned down by the
storm, fending off hypothermia the entire time. The winds were still very strong and the waves were much larger
than I would have liked, but we knew we were going to make it. We paddled our way into CP8 at around 9:00am
where we were met by a very surprised and worried looking race organizer. They were very happy to see us. We were cold, but felt good.
I want to give a very
special thanks to my teammates Amy and Lisa, who remained calm and
composed, and never panicked
even when things looked there worst. They both maintained a positive outlook
and incredibly, we often found ourselves laughing over little things such as
our shoes catching on fire from holding them too close to the fire, we even
managed to smile for a few photos.
This race challenged even the most experienced racers. My teammates excellent performance is a
testament to there mental and physical toughness. I am extremely pleased with the way we stuck together as a team
and supported one another through what Lisa termed "a deeply challenging experience".
