Adventure Racing

March, 2010

Hinton, VA
by Phil Dawson

            So, I’m finally getting around to writing about EFix 2010.  EFix essentially began a fantastic year of racing for me, so I really think it deserves a report even though it’s over a year late.
            Initially I wasn’t even going to do the race. I couldn’t find anybody to race with and soloing for 50 hours didn't sound fun.  A little internet dating through A-list quickly paired me up with Chad Markle from Salt Lake City.  He’d been thinking about doing it solo too, but liked the idea of pairing up as a two man team.  I had a little performance anxiety (do NOT continue the internet dating motif!) since Chad had done ump-teen Primal Quests, etc; but a mutual friend, Jeremy Khulen, said Chad was a great guy and I'm hoping he said the same about me to Chad.  Chad also brought the name "Raging Burritos," his favorite restaurant in Atlanta, along with him and "Richmond ASR: Raging Burritos" was born.
            We met at the check-in site.  Chad had gone to the Bluestone State Park initially, but luckily had a smart phone and Googled his way to the Bluestone Camp and Retreat on the other side of the Lake.  The route to the Camp had been part of the 2008 EFix third day bike course and it brought back a few memories.  We spent the evening planning gear and practicing getting bikes into canoes. It turned out to be easier than we had dreaded, but it was still a pain.

            Friday morning’s check-in started with a long line of racers and then two HUGE maps.  We had map folding down to an art by the end of this race.  It seemed like we had plenty of time to plot everything, but as always it wasn’t enough time to be comfortable.  The inevitable scrambling ensued as gear and food was finalized. 

            The weather up to race day had been crazy in West Virginia.  Bluestone Lake had been 40 feet above normal levels and rumors of mud everywhere proved to be true.  Race director Ronnie Angell said this had been at least the fifth workings of the race course due to crazy water levels and persistent snow pack.  Snowshoes had even been on the original gear list, and the weather continued to be a factor even at the 2PM start.

            It was SNOWING!  Ronnie was laughing away saying something about “if it doesn’t kill you….” as the gun went off and we headed out on the bike prologue.  We went straight up to the ridgeline along the camp road and then back down along muddy trails to the camp again.  Chad and I decided to disassemble the bikes and put them in the canoes before we headed out on the trek section.  We didn’t want to get back in the dark and have to take bikes apart.  The trek took us south over the ridge, down the other side, west along the Bluestone Lake shore, and then back over the ridge for a total of three checkpoints.   Don’t forget…it was still snowing until about checkpoint one!  We could have opted to stay low and along the lake shore on the way back, but teams that did that ended up stranded on the path due to mud and debris…our first good navigation decision. 

            We were now back at the Bluestone Camp and given more points to plot.  These points were mostly optional and involved an initial paddle upstream, a dumping of bikes and gear, more paddling upstream, and then lots of night trekking and an eventual return to the bike drop area.  Around dusk, Chad and I portaged down the hill to the put-in, navigated the mud as best we could and began the upstream paddle.  Usually Bluestone Lake is just that…a lake.  The weather had made it a fairly swift moving river which got faster the further upstream we went.  Staying close to the shore and using every barrier you could to avoid the current was key.              Dumping the bikes was a huge task due to the mud.  It got everywhere.  In places it was at least 1 ½ feet deep and could easily suck shoes off if you weren’t careful.  Of course it took so much longer than we planned, but we were back in the canoe without bikes and paddling upstream with a pretty good moon.  We hugged the right bank, stayed in as many small channels as possible, used islands as current blocks, and slowly crept upstream.  We pulled up where checkpoint three had been.  We knew we could get out and trek up to the only mandatory point for this section at the head of Indian Mill Creek.  Paddling all the way there was only for the super strong and a few teams did. 

            We now made a fateful navigation decision.  It was night; the optional points looked really hard for a two-person team; a fog was rolling in obscuring the hillsides; and Ronnie Angell races are all about making cut-offs.  We crossed paths with Dima who was doing the race solo, and we all decided to head straight back to our canoes without even attempting the optional points.  This was our second good navigation decision.  We later heard horror stories about checkpoints on hillsides in the fog, cemeteries missed numerous times, four-person teams having to canvas hillsides countless times.   The canoe paddle back downstream, through the fog, took no time at all! 

            A slog through the mud again brought us back to our bikes at about 2AM.  Other teams were there; some going out for a second round in the woods; some just getting there from Bluestone Camp.  Teams were already all over the map.  One thing we hadn’t anticipated: the mud had frozen on the bikes!  We had to chip it off as best we could and set off.  Initially, gears didn’t work and brakes were frozen; but eventually everything functioned and nothing broke.  We were just behind Dima as we set off up the first of countless hills.

            The bike course generally took us south and west.  Since it was below freezing, it took me a while to figure out how not to sweat profusely on the uphills or freeze solid riding back down.   I got the clothes figured out by about the second big uphill//downhill combo.  Around 5AM , one of those adventure racing moments happened.  We were tired and cold as we pulled into the tiny town of Lerona, WV.  There was a Liberty gas station so we stopped just to get something out of the vending machine.  Remember….it’s 5AM.  The door was open so we pulled on it and Chad says, “I smell bacon!”  We couldn’t believe it.  We sat down to scrambled eggs, home-made hash browns, and sausage….at 5AM!  Some locals were in there sitting around chatting and didn’t quite know what to make of us; so we started talking and trying to explain this lunatic sport.  They just laughed.  We took a quick 20 minute snooze and then headed on to Pipestem State Park as the sun started coming up.

            The trek through Pipestem Park was nice.  Getting my feet into frozen solid, muddy shoes was a trick but we were soon trekking fast.  The sun was up, the frost was melting, the view from the lookout tower was fantastic, and the waterfalls were gorgeous in the morning light.  We chose a clockwise route and got checkpoints 22 through 26 by 11AM.  We figured Dima was the only team ahead of us as we set out on the next bike leg. 

            Once again we made a good route choice.  We chose to backtrack and do many more miles on fairly flat roads rather than carrying bikes down and up power line cuts.  We actually caught Dima by the last checkpoint since he had chosen a rutted jeep trail with much elevation change rather than the road.  The last downhill was a screamer and we were back to our canoe and the mud.  After again disassembling the bikes and stowing them in the canoe, a fairly short 7 ½ mile downstream paddle brought us to checkpoint 31 and Bluestone State Park.  Another wade through even deeper mud enabled us to get our bikes put back together and afforded a little time to eat and get ready for a long bike leg.  We started up the first of 3 monster climbs as we headed out of Bluestone State Park about 10 minutes behind Dima.

            We rode on as night fell, but it wasn’t quite as cold.  We were making cut-offs easily and felt pretty good.  However, by the third 800 foot climb we were getting pretty beat.  I got ahead of myself with the maps around Dunns, WV, but we stopped and asked a guy spread out under his truck fixing axles and he set us straight.  Team Tecnu-Extreme blew past us up the last hill but one of their teammates was really hurting.  Once again, by the last checkpoint, we caught Dima and rode into Camp Creek State Forest and checkpoint 35 together at about 10:30PM.

            The map made the navigation for this trek look simple.  There were trails and cemeteries all nicely marked on the map.  It didn’t turn out to be so easy. We joined Dima, since three is always better than two in the dark, and headed north.  Once again we planned on only getting the mandatory CPs since we had to be back by 2AM.  Checkpoint 39 proved difficult, we stumbled upon checkpoint 37 and then it was off to checkpoint 36 in the opposite direction.  We chose a trail along a stream which proved to be my downfall.  It was wet, dark and so rocky that you really couldn’t go quickly without risking an ankle. Dima chanced it and took off.  The minutes ticked away and by the time we got to good trail we had to run at 8 minute pace to get back in time.  I couldn’t do it.  If only we’d transitioned faster…biked harder…taken the trail we were familiar with on this trek.  We passed Dima breathing really hard on his way back to transition.  He made the cut off by 8 minutes.  He was the only one who did.  We slowed down, got the last point, luckily found a heated restroom, took a short nap but woke up too early because concrete is cold, then headed back to transition.   We didn’t make that last cut-off.

            The fire was still burning.  It was surrounded by teams trying to stay warm and get some sleep.  We checked in with the volunteers, but no one else seemed to care about our presence.  Everyone was exhausted.  This is one tough race! 

Since we didn’t make the cut-off we had to return to Bluestone Camp the same way we got here.  We hopped on the bikes and started up the first of those three tough climbs.  We passed many teams sleeping by the roadside or “camping” in nearby fields.  It looked like a battlefield.  We were worried about rain as the sun slowly rose to a grey sky; and fatigue was setting in as we had to stop twice on the last hill.    The last screaming descent brought us back to our mud-entombed canoe. 

We now had a 4 mile upstream paddle to the finish and we were in first place.  We got the bikes in and started paddling.  This is where the sleep monsters started showing up. There was lots of debris in the trees from the recent flooding.  I kept seeing people sitting up on the banks watching us only to find out that it was an old plastic bag, a seat cushion, an old jug, as we paddled by.   We got stuck in the mud once and had to get out and slog through it up to our thighs for a 100 yards or so; but we avoided the strong current and kept to the banks as best as possible.  A slow portage up the hill with Chad and me attached to straps like a couple of mules brought us to the camp and across the finish line in first place. 

It’s amazing how tired you feel after you cross the line.  Your body knows it’s over so it just gives in to all the pain and fatigue.  We had our pictures taken, hosed all the equipment off as best as possible, packed the cars, grabbed a quick shower and then a blessed nap.  Food is always delicious after one of these races and lunch was no exception.  The awards ceremony was a bit of a blur as was the drive home.  I drove until I got sleepy, pulled over for a 4 hour nap, and then headed home for good.  I was so pumped because we did so well.  We ended up fifth overall and first across the line.  It’s hard to beat that for a weekend.