Chapter 6: TA5 to The Finish Line: Plus some thoughts:

We left TA5 on our bikes as the sun was coming up. We were convinced that we were going to finish in last place after our campout in the forest and slow bushwhack out, so we had enjoyed a two-hour nap at the TA5. Since we were refreshed and took the correct route this time, we enjoyed one of the fastest split times from TA5 to TA6. It also helped that Chad set a grueling pace once we hit the pavement. Susan and I simply tucked in and tried to hold on. The speedometer on Chad's bike stayed around 20MPH the entire time he said.

We hit TA6 and were informed of two things. First, we had to sit around for an hour because of this is where the elite teams were drug tested. Second, there had been a great deal of fog in the morning and teams had been held up along the river. Team Hype were unable to see clearly enough in the fog and ended up tacoing their kayak on one of the many strainers, which we had been warned about during the prerace meeting. (We had a prerace meeting? WOW that was a looong time ago). A strainer is a section of the river where derby, mostly large fallen trees, floating downriver gets caught up and begins building up on its self. Most of the strainers were moderate sized, but a few had grown enormous thanks to years of build up.

After sitting around for an hour getting my feet treated by the first aid crew, it was time to get on the river. We noticed Canada Post was putting in with us. They had been DQ because one of their teammates had dropped out, but they had picked up Jim from Team The 'Jim' Class. The Jim Class had been DQed during the last trekking section. One of their teammates had torn up his knee and had to be airlifted out.

The four boats took off from shore to begin a 55-mile down river kayak leg. There were a few little rapids here and there. There were many strainers though out the first half of the paddle, but only once did we get close to hitting anything. It was only a single log sticking out of the water and the reason we were so close was because of a boater was also going downriver, who just could not wait to pass us. Besides the beauty of the river, there were the magnificent views of snow covered Mt Baker. I also watched a hawk or two fly around for a while. Besides that, this leg of the race was pretty uneventful. It is scary to think back and say a 50 plus mile section of an adventure race was uneventful, but I guess my standards had been raised thanks to the previous few days.

At dusk we pulled the kayaks out of the river. That is when things started to go downhill. We had caught up with two more teams, but they began portaging their kayaks before we had our portaging system put into place. For some unknown reason, Reed had forgot to bring a change of clothes in the kayak, so he was going to enjoy the trek in his wetsuit, which was actually wet. When I pulled my headlamp out, it would not work for some reason, so I was going to enjoy the trek with no light. Once the kayaks were loaded onto the portage wheels, we put a green glow stick on each end of the kayak and started off.

Second note to self, when told ahead of time that I will be portaging a 100-pound kayak 11 to 16 miles, go out and practice it. The first few miles of the portage were dreadful. One kayak would go mostly straight, but the other acted more like a drunk driver and continually pulled right. After about two painfully slow hours, the engineer parts of Chad and Reed could not take it anymore, so they rerigged our portage setup. It was no longer felt like 16-foot long log with an anchor dragging behind it, but instead more like simply dragging a 16-foot long log. Would the fun ever end?

Now I am all for non-stop racing, but that is when I am out in the wilderness and do not have to worry about other things, such as cars. We had started out on our 11-mile portage at 9PM on a Saturday night in what I would call, not the nicest part of town. There we got to enjoy traffic going by us at only 40MPH with the added comfort of streetlights. An hour or some into our slog, we were on a backcountry road, where post speed limit had go up to 55 MPH. Now how many people out driving on a Saturday night on an empty backcountry road go the Posted speed limit? I know I don't. To make matter more enjoyable, the bike lane we had started off in disappeared along the way and the shoulder of the road turned into an irrigation trench. You may think this was the high point, but there is more.

As the night grew later and the speeds of car increased, the fog started to roll in. At first it was a light fog, so it simply put a damp chill in the air, but it continually got thicker unit visibly was less than 100 feet or so. You would think this would slow down traffic, but it apparently did not cross the minds of the drivers that evening. The road was mostly straight, it was Saturday night, so they had places to be and things to do. I am sure some of them must have thought there was something extra in their drinks that night because suddenly the fog would turn green and white. As they got closer, a dim yellow form would appear and at the last second they would see a floating yellow boat on the side of the road. Accompanying the boat would be three ragged figures with white lights instead of eyes.

While approaching a traffic light, we struck up a conversation with a couple that happened to be out and about. They slowly drove next to us as we talked. They asked about the race and how things were going. They had read about the race in the local paper and were interested in what was going on. One of the things we told them was the fact that throughout the entire race Reed had carried $20 with him in hopes of passing somewhere to buy food. However, the only time we were anywhere near a store it happened to by sometime after midnight, but before the sun came up. The portage was no different. Walking towards the traffic light, we could make out the lights of a gas station, but when we got closer we realized it too was closed. The car turned right and headed for town, while we continued on into the darkness.

It turned out that our new friends felt pity for us and soon returned with a car full of food including one of the best Coke's I have ever had. I thought it was a little cold for the ice cream bars, but the way Susan and Reed inhaled them apparently not. The bag of Fritos was passed around and we enjoyed the rest of our portage. It would end at 2 AM with word from the race officials that the ocean kayak section was on hold because of the fog. Like we planned to leave right away.

When we awoke in the morning to more fog, we noticed that there were six teams sitting around with us waiting for the fog to clear. It would not happen until after 2 in the afternoon. So with only a 22-mile paddle left to go, we would end up sitting around for 12 more hours. At least this time we were with our support crew and having a great time eating. As we sat around, I suggested to Reed that we should see if all the teams wanted to finish together. I mean what really is the difference on finishing last or say second to last by 5 minutes. All the teams were game and went in on the idea except one. I won't name names, but if you look online, it has the final results.

The final kayak started out by heading into the fog across the bay. Once we cleared the fog, it turned into a beautiful late summer afternoon. The sun beat down on us as we paddled across shipping channels and along the shoreline of multiple islands. As we rounded the last island, we could see Orcas Island ahead of us. Behind us a nearly full moon was raising over Mt Baker. The setting sun gave the fresh snow on the mountain a purple glow. Back to the west the sky had turned multiple shades of orange and red. So we continued to paddle into the sunset, while constantly turning around to enjoy the spectacular show Mt Baker and the moon were putting on for us.

The remaining five teams grouped back up at the last CP and began the last four miles of the race together. Stories were traded back and forth. It was smiles all around even though the sun had set and the temperature was dropping quickly. The lights of Rosario grew brighter with every stroke. We busted out our air horns and started blowing them. Cheers from the beach returned our calls. As we neared the finish, we lined the boats up so that we would hit the shore together. The cheers grew louder. The finish line was packed with racers who had long finished the race as well as multiple support crews. We hit the beach to an extra loud outburst. We crossed the finish line as one large happy team. Champaign showers us in our sea of hugs. Dan Barger came and personally shook all our hand and congratulated us.

The next day, there was a moving memorial paddle in honor of Nigel. With blistered hands and swollen feet, I sat in my kayak and watched as team AROC and Montrail paddled through two lines of boats. Nigel's brother had taken his spot in the kayak. His Mother waited for him on shore. Nigel's brother carried his remains in an urn across the finish line and handed them to their mother as they embraced.

The final racer had finished his last race, and with that Subaru Primal Quest 2004 was official over.








Some thoughts about the race:
I know there were some negative feelings about different parts of the race. With this many people competing in a race, there is bound to be different opinions about the course. With the death of Nigel, these concerns and complains are bound to be magnified. I can make no comments on the conditions of route choices where Nigel died, because I never made to that section.

However, I can comment on the bike whack section. As much as everyone seemed to hate this section and say how badly designed the course was, it was the most talked about section when it came to trading stories after the race. It is also the section that I believe many people will remember most clearly. I do not blame the course designers for sending us down a wet vegetation covered hill. Instead, I question my own navigation, as there was a road clearly visible on the map that we should have hit much higher up than we did. I do believe the weather played a much greater roll in the race than any of the race directors had expected. It is amazing how fast the vegetation and conditions of the wilderness can change after two weeks of solid rain. Maybe we should give them a break. I mean they are from California and not use to the rapidly changing weather of fall in the northwest. Besides, we had multiple routes to choose from, we just happened to follow the wrong one: a few times actually.

The only section of the race that I was not happy with was the Portage, and not because my feet hurt and I was tired, or because I simply disliked dragging a 100-pound boat. But instead, it was the uncontrollable danger I was in. Not from falling, but from passing cars. At one point during this section, Reed, who was suffering from sleep deprivation, wandered a few steps to his right. It just so happened this was at the exact moment a car was hurling towards us. If Chad had not yelled out to Reed, the two feet by which the car missed him would not have existed.

I am still amazed at how much I learned about myself, my teammates, adventure race and life in general during and after the race. Hopefully I can put what I learned to good use in whatever is next, and what is next, is always a big question. I think by the time the Champaign was gone at the finish line I was wondering when my next race would be. Yea, I'm now officially an addict. Good thing I met the race director for Extreme Adventure Hidalgo at the post race party and talked to him on the ferry ride the next day. Mexico in February? Sounds like a great time and place for a race to me!