MiX Race Report

11th Place. The 2007 Michigan Expedition seemed to be a much better effort for GOALS ARA (Bruce Wong, Keith Wobesser, Kristen Dieffenbach and myself) than something that can ultimately be summed up with "not in the Top Ten". When we were preparing for this event the goal was: "finish in the top ten". To be fair we only needed to be 20 minutes faster to the finish line or willing to leave the Orienteering course about 40 minutes later than we did (with one extra point in hand) and we could have accomplished the goal. Over the course of 99 hours those aren't major differences. But they are concrete when I view the final results.

There's no category to account for spending a day towing a sick and injured teammate around the course when they probably should have been off to the hospital for antibiotics and a tetanus booster. But Keith showed a ton of heart and stayed on the course despite a bad stomach and a chunk of skin being removed from the back of his right leg by the chain ring of his bike. It was not a wreck that you'd see on any kind of cheesy "Xtreme Outdoors Impacts" TV show. It was more like something out of "America's Funniest Home Videos" where a seemingly innocuous moment turns into rare event of severe klutziness.

Despite all that stuff we remained fairly competitive for a good chunk of the race. The opening paddle revealed our relative weakness in that discipline as we exited the water mid-pack, almost an hour down to the leaders after ~5 hours of paddling for them and ~6 hours for us. It wasn't long ago that I didn't consider paddling to be a deep deficit for GOALS but something has changed and you can bet we'll be focusing more training on boat time in the coming months. Whether the field is stronger or the team is weaker is irrelevant.....improvements must be made.

Fortunately the ensuing sections on Drummond Island gave us a chance to show off a bit. Navigation on the Island was difficult to say the least but the myriad of unmapped trails and run around versus direct bushwhack choices played to our favor. A few checkpoints into the first trekking section and we were up to 7th without running a step. I had chosen just the right point on a known trail to attack on a bearing to within 25 meters of CPB (ignoring a series of crossing trails) and followed that with a combination of finesse (keeping the feet dry and weaving to travel as "open" as possible through the vegetation) and taking a general bearing to cross the swamp between CPB and CP7.

By morning we had salvaged Enduraventure's race (for the time being anyway) by returning a passport they had dropped on the trails and had elevated ourselves to a small group that was clustered on the clock for 4th through 8th place. The bike loop was more of the same. We weren't blazing along but we hit everything spot on and even after Keith's self-mutilation we managed to exit the bike in 6th place. Medic time dropped us a couple places before entering the paddle but we managed to complete the absolutely beautiful sea-kayak section in good standing. The opening paddle had been 20+ miles in molded plastic canoes. And those canoes would return later to serve duty on the Pine River and again on the final section. But for three hours we paddled almost effortlessly to dart amongst a set of islands. There was a strong cross wind later in the paddle that made a few channel crossings a bit tricky. But anytime we had shelter the boats glided through the water. RDs....more sea-kayaking please!

Our departure from Drummond Island was a moment of severe taunting. We executed a terrific pace line: Kristen and I taking shifts at the front and Bruce towing Keith and his mauled leg to take off the strain. We kept it tight and sailed to the Ferry landing on Drummond: just in time to watch it pull away. And unlike most movies there didn't happen to be a ramp at the end of the pier for us to execute a cop-movie cliche stunt jump onto the back end of the boat. Damn! Where are those ramps when you need them! Somehow we (and a couple teams in the TA around us) had confused the schedule thinking that we would catch a departure 40 minutes after the hour as we had caught one in the other direction close to 10 after the hour. However, the earlier ride had been a "bonus ferry" and not the real one. The true schedule was departure from Drummond 10 minutes after the hour. Our pace line had been for naught: there were probably two or three teams on the just departed boat and we would be caught by anybody that came along in the next 58 minutes.

Fortunately, only Salomon/Suunto had come along while we waited. Bruce and I had waged an epic battle with a few of them at Beast of the East in 2005. We shared a quick laugh about how things seem to come back around before everybody settled in for 15 minutes of power nap. Once on the main land we had a bit more luck. We found a place in the Village of De Tour that rented cabins. The proprietor, a mountain biker and aware of race, was more than happy to permit us to crash (gratis) one of the open cabins for a 2.5 hour sleep session. This was to be our big sleep session for the race and getting to sleep inside, warm and dry, away from the mosquitoes on a couch or bed no less was a big treat. A beer would have been nice too but smelly beggars can't be too picky.

After we woke up we set on on the remainder of a long night ride. DiNotte Lights is once again helping GOALS ARA out with lighting options and for this race we were running Ultra 5 Lithium lamps on our bars and helmets. These lights are feather-light, reasonably priced and perfect for long burn times and lighting the way on mixed terrain rides like the 70 mile, road, forest road and jeep track that was covered on the way to the Pine River paddle leg start in Rudyard.

Keith really struggled with the pain from his torn up leg on the second half of the ride. During the darker hours of the second night of racing we were a bit concerned that we might be heading towards an unofficial status. However, Keith let us know that he trusted our judgment and experience and he hung in tough through a really hard night for him. Eggs, toast and hash browns for breakfast at a family style restaurant in Rudyard before the paddle leg was a welcome treat. We parked our bikes outside and were a bit surprised to watch a few teams ride by without stopping.

While reviewing course notes for the sections ahead we realized the "hurry". There was a 10am cutoff listed for putting in. We thought that was a bit premature for a full course cutoff as the paddle leg was short and competitors putting in hours later could easily complete the leg in the light. We finished our breakfast and quickly transitioned, entering the water in 10th place but clearly fading on the clock versus the top 3 or 4 teams. Looking back at results the cutoff must have been extended (as seemed reasonable) or a misprint as a couple teams had checkout times beyond the 10am time and remained on full course.

The paddle was a nice recovery for Keith and by the time we set out on the ensuing trek he seemed to have his stomach and general good spirits back. Once again, the navigation presented a good deal of options and map imperfections. New trails, missing trails, leveled roads and one overgrown section of trail led to a good mix of trekking and bushwhacking to get the job done. I had one of those navigating days where every decision turns out right and by the time we rappelled off the quarry wall and slogged the last half mile to the TA we had climbed back to 7th place without running a step.

We settled in for a ninety minute sleep at the TA after enduring a brief spaz moment by yours truly. I was mentally fried after the trek and hours of carefully thumbing the map. Lying on the ground half-dazed I thought the team was exhorting me to continue on without sleep which seemed insane to me. I barked out a "OK f$@# it! Let's go!" (part exasperated, part trying to kick start myself) and then quickly realized that I was a horse's butt for any number of reasons:

1.) We were in a TA at 2am where there were approximately a dozen people in assorted states of sleep.

2.) They were asking if I wanted to sleep exactly where I was or a couple hundred meters away.

Oops, bad Jonathan, no cookie. We chose to sleep a hundred meters away. After sleeping I sheepishly apologized to everybody to which I think I received the general "we forgive your temporary insanity/idiocy" and we were off.

By now the theme of the race was "keep moving so the skeeters won't get ya". They were out with a vengence. Stopping to flip maps, punch unmanned points or getting off the bike to push through sugar sand led to inundation by your own personal mosquito swarm. 100% deet was slathered everywhere and they treated it like barbeque sauce. 22 miles later we reached the caving and score orienteering sections still in 7th.

The cave trip was interesting but not epic. It was more interesting than the Primal Quest caves during the 2003 race outside Tahoe. It was less interesting than hanging a quilt over the kitchen table when you are three years old and pretending you are a bear coming out of hibernation. A kid's imagination can be pretty fascinating, right? The big benefits: 30 minutes without mosquitoes and a good icy soak for aching feet.

Aching feet and backfiring nav choices were pretty much the story of the ensuing score-o section. Our overall plan was to return by dark (10pm) well ahead of the 2am "drop dead" exit time. Maybe were still feeling a bit burned from our Efix experience this spring when we decided to lay in the large time cushion. But, navigationally, I made some poor choices. I looked at a small puddle and decided it wasn't large enough to be the pond we were looking for at OP8. It was the pond, just a very dry version and 25 meters away the flag was hanging behind some trees. We would find that out later when we came back to retrieve the bypassed punch. Leaving OP6 I tried for far too long to follow an unmapped jeep track in order to avoid a bushwhack across a swamp to OP5. The track never panned out and led to a semi-comical bushwhack backtrack. Our general pace became slow as an assortment of foot blisters and injuries hobbled us. But we slogged on hoping that we would pick up enough OPs to hold off the teams behind us. As we finished off the section we stuck religiously to the 10pm target time. Even bypassing a couple short out and back trips to OP1 and OP2 in favor of our cutoff. This as you know, was much to our detriment but it seemed the right play to us.

The long road home. We left the score-o with 5 points in hand, hopeful that was a worthy score and with a good feeling that we had a good cushion for mechanical or physical difficulty. The ride to the ensuing paddle had one CP along the way and true to form a navigational choice. Direct forest roads or round about highway. We tested the direct route for a few minutes. When it quickly turned into sugar sand covered jeep track we beat a hasty retreat to the pavement. It was a bizarre ride. Teams were travelling forwards and backwards on the highways and side roads. Pace lines that would blow past and then suck wind and fade behind. Keith and I were alternating in the role of "sleepy biker". It was the middle of the night after 90 hours of racing and it showed. Kristen was alternating a series of strategies: scaring me, talking to me and yelling at me in order to keep me alert. As we neared the last mile to the final canoe put in we decided a 45 minute nap on a side road was in order.

Keith thought the middle of the road looked nice and flat and comfortable. We convinced him that as deserted as the location was it still represented a bad idea for a resting place. I mostly laid in the spacebag and shivered violently from a combination of dampness and calorie drain. Shivering is an extremely noisy act when you are wrapped up in what amounts to lightweight tinfoil. Sounds a lot like jiffy pop when you first start shaking the kernels across the heat source. Bruce went comatose and startled loudly when Kristen rose to shake him awake 45 minutes later.

Nap in hand we headed for the canoe put in. We hit the water and my brain slid into an alternate form of consciousness. Keith was paddling the front of our boat and described it something like this: I was asleep, head down, with drool trickling out of my mouth (similar to what I look like at work) but unlike at work I would respond to his demands for steering strokes and then resume my stupor. I went on this way for about an hour until first light arrived and a couple teams caught us from behind. We had no idea if we were "racing" or if the o course had settled the issue but competitive juices lit me up and we were off and paddling on full awake. We reached river's end and turned South to cover a few miles on Lake Huron to the take out and the final ten mile ride to the finish.

We paddled along in glorious morning sunshine, cutting across the final point and aiming across a wide bay towards the takeout. I congratulated Keith on struggling through a couple rough days and finishing an expedition race on his first attempt. The two teams that had caught us on the river had pulled a few minutes ahead but in full sight, when suddenly, pea soup fog rolled in. Rats! Literally, in 60 seconds time we went from miles of visibility to 100 feet. If we missed the take out long we might well have end up in Saint Ignace before stopping, so we pulled into visual range of the shoreline and limped in, losing the advantage of cutting across the bay to the now invisible takeout. The water within visual range of the shoreline was extremely shallow, paddling was less effective than walking the boats at time. Progress was slow, I swore more than most sailors do in a lifetime on the Great Lakes but eventually we hit the takeout.

Our transition was fast and once on land we settled into an easy pace line and headed for the start/finish near the base of the Mackinac Bridge in Saint Ignace. The final standings would be whatever they would be as there was no time or space left on the course for error on the highway ride that reversed the opening portion of the bike prologue from four days ago. We rolled in to the finish under sunny skies and the sounds of the occasional cheering motorist. Ever the mongrels of the sporting world we were cursed out by a motorist on the final straightaway for being too cautious when making the final turn across two lanes of oncoming traffic. Fame has its price I suppose.....LOL! The whole crew from Infiterra Sports was there to shake our hands at the line and offer us a short ride back to the host hotel.

Since the event we've read of some shady dealings on the final orienteering course . But I think it's safe to say that we had our fate in our own hands and even if we came up a hair shy of the objective I think we can call it a race well run.

I'd like to thank the gear sponsors that came through to support us in our effort and in particular: Rail Riders, Sunday Afternoons, Werner Paddles and DiNotte Lighting. I've added a set of links to the items you'll find in the GOALS ARA "Gear Box" on the right hand side of this blog. Take time to check them out when you get a chance. :)