"It Ain't Over Til It's Over (Whew!)" - Explore CA, Kirkwood Resort

Well, the following race report might pale in comparison to my latest upcoming adventure... I'm heading off to the Himalayas in northern India in a few hours! Yes, you read that right, sports fans. I'm off to film part of a documentary high in some remote areas. It's not an extreme, cliff-hanging, peak-bagging, snow-filled trip, but more of a story about an amazing woman and her quest to do some incredible good in the world. Updates will come for sure. As for racing:

It was another weekend in another part of the country... just like many other weekends in many other parts of the country. Except we were there to race. And I do so enjoy a good weekend in the country. It's never boring and NEVER the same thing twice, that's for sure. So, with another full work week's worth of time spent dealing with the logistics of getting five people (four racers plus one crew), four mountain bikes, three automobiles, two tons of gear, and a partridge in a pear tree -- make that a 22 foot long, three-person kayak -- all the way to the mountains outside of Lake Tahoe, sometimes the racing is the easy part!

And so, this week's tale of Team Silly Rabbits begins with the unenviable task of drawing straws to see who gets to drive Jason's car. As mentioned previously, it's seen better days (and decades). John and I drew the short straws and had to go pick up the monstrous kayak, strap it precariously on the roof, and drive into the blazing heat of middle California without air conditioning on a Friday afternoon to get to the Kirkwood Ski resort for the first 24-hour race in the brand new Explore CA race series.

The Explore CA series is a conglomerate of a number of previously individual races around California. In a United Nations-style move, five race directors of five separate races came together to pool their resources to create what looks to become one of the premiere race series in the U.S. They've been able to attract a number of top sponsors and have put together close to $100,000 in prize money and prizes.

Formerly known as the Sierra Extreme, this race would be directed by Rich Brazeau, the newly hired CEO of Primal Quest, the world's premiere expedition race. With that in mind, everyone had high hopes of spectacular racing and a challenging course... a peek into the mind of the man who will be in charge of "earth's richest adventure" starting in the late Spring of '06.

John and I braved the Friday traffic and some back roads to climb to the breathtaking (literally) Kirkwood resort which sits at 7800 feet above sea level (at the base! You know what that means). Friday would be a relatively mellow day as the instructions for the race would not be given out until a mere three hours before the gun went off on Saturday morning. Jason would arrive later that evening and Jen, our fourth teammate would arrive after a full day of work with her husband Scott, our newly minted Crew Guy Extraordinaire.

In a nice coincidence for us, the format for this race would be exactly the same as the race we completed less than a month earlier in Bend, OR. It would be a stage race with only three of your four teammates racing in each stage. Your "race time" would not include your time spent in transition (getting ready for the upcoming stage). So, in a perfect race, your team would have time to rest and prepare before jetting out on the next stage without it counting against you.

Nonetheless, we were warned that this would be a difficult race and that even the fastest teams may have trouble making all the sections in the alloted times. Ha, we cried (at least on the outside). Saturday morning, the racers gathered in the wee hours to pick up instructions for the race. There would be eight sections: trek/run, paddle, bike, paddle, bike, paddle, bike, trek/run. In that order. Dizzying? What's it like to go from the boat to the bike and back again and then run up a mountain and rappel off it? Fun, of course!

9:00 a.m. Teams would go off in waves on the first leg-burning, lung-busting trek straight up the slopes of the ski resort to the first checkpoint. When in doubt in an adventure race, look around for the highest point you can see. That's probably where the checkpoint is. Going off in waves didn't really matter because we were really racing the clock in this race. A team might pass you in a later section, however they could technically be two hours behind you in 'race time'. So sticking to your team's game plan is crucial. John, Jason, and I would tackle the first trek while Jen and Scott drove ahead with our boat, bikes, and gear to a lake several miles away.

With Jason's navigation, we caught up to a bunch of teams that had left in earlier waves and then we put a big whuppin' on the field from checkpoint 1 to checkpoint 2. There were two route choices. Run along the semi-circular ridge high above the resort or descend all the way back down to the elevation at the base and run back up the other side of the mountainous "bowl". Hm, choice two doesn't seem like a winner, huh? Well, if you were just drawing straight lines, you'd see that running around the ridge would take you quite a way further. And if you were looking at how much climbing and descending you'd have to do, well going down and back up is never fun. (One rule of thumb: always stay high. But hey, you know what they say about rules.)

We planned on going down and then back up before the race. And that's what we did in the race. And it was the better call. We screamed back down the loose slopes, over hill and dale, and then put our pistons to work grinding back up several hundred feet of elevation to checkpoint two. And we arrived ahead of everyone! In the clear, sunny morning, we could see over a mile up the ridge which constituted Choice 1. And we didn't see a single team coming at us. From here, we caught a nice singletrack trail that skirted along a shady hillside and then we had to run on the road for about two miles to get around a lake to the kayak transition.

Arriving at the transition, we could see back along the road on the far side of the lake -- where we had run from over a mile earlier. Still there was no one behind us. We were amazed. Later, we talked with a few other teams that went back down the slopes and up the other side, but the majority of teams stayed up on the ridge and had a long, tricky run to checkpoint 2.

We decided to have a relatively quick transition for a few reasons. First, we wanted to have ample time for the section after the paddle -- a huge mountain bike leg into the heat of the day. Second, we didn't want to have to paddle with any other teams, especially two other teams that had brought three-person boats. This is just a psychological ploy. We didn't want other teams saying "hey, we can paddle with them... why can't we beat them in everything else?", or something like that.

John, Jen, and I would handle the paddle. A 4.5 mile circumnavigation of a deep blue alpine lake. Very pretty. We checked out before any other teams came in (!), jumped quickly into the boats (time's runnin' now!) and got about two strokes into it when something went horribly wrong with the boat. The person in the back steers the boat using foot pedals which control the rudder. The foot pedals are attached to wires that simply pull the rudder left or right. Well, if one of the foot pedals breaks you could have a tough time steering. And that's what happened. My left foot pedal came off its track and we started to fish tail. I thought it might be broken and it's tough to fix a boat while in the middle of the water, so I pulled up the rudder and we fish tailed to the first checkpoint on the far side of the lake. Upon hitting land where the checkpoint was, I looked at the pedal to see if it was fixable. Thankfully, it had only come off of its holder, it didn't break. We put it back on and started for the next checkpoint.

Unfortunately, the pedal came off a few more times during the rest of this leg, causing us to stop and put it back on -- and costing us some time. When we got back, we found out that we had over 20 minutes on the next closest team. Jason, John, and Jen would ride off into the hot, hot hills on the next section. I can't say I was disappointed to sit out this section. None of us thought it would take nearly as long as it did, but...

Scott and I strapped the boat back onto the car, gathered our team gear, and drove off for the next transition. The rumor was that it would take 3-3.5 hours for the fast teams on this section. Scott and I would have time to pick up some water and food and set up 'camp' on the shores of another lake in the area. We got a nice shady spot, laid out our gear, and waited. And waited. And waited. Three hours went by. We got the blood pumping again thinking they'd be here soon. Three and a half hours went by and we were staring up the road to where they'd be coming from. Four hours came and went. Hm. Well, folks get to talkin' sometimes. And sometimes them rumors just fly around without much foundation, ya know.

By now, most other teams had pulled in and were waiting for their teammates. That's when things really get going. Someone says "Well, I heard it's gonna take 6 hours." And someone else says "Seven." And you can get into a downright bidding war. The friendly and dedicated personnel who were manning the checkpoint didn't know anything about the race times, so we were all in the dark. And waiting.

Obviously, it was taking longer than originally anticipated. At the five hour mark, we started to worry. We were pretty sure they'd be out of water by now and possibly food, too. I was getting pretty stiff just sitting around, and napping, and eating... come to think of it, getting stiff wasn't too bad. But my thoughts were with my teammates out there.

Sometime a little after the five hour mark, they arrived! Tired and dirty, but with slight smiles pushed through chapped and sunburnt lips. Epic. The leg was only 22 miles. The average person can walk about 3 miles per hour. On a bike, you figure you can go a lot faster than that. We sometimes average about 5 miles per hour on steep uphills. So, we calculated that even at an average of the terribly slow 7 miles per hour, the leg would take 3-3.5 hours at the worst.... How wrong we were. They ended up hiking with their bikes a good way.

A long rest was in order. Thankfully our nice shady spot was the perfect spot. BUT! We couldn't rest too long because there were other legs to complete! Once again, we somehow started mounting more and more time on the teams behind us. No one was arriving behind us as we refueled and rested. The next closest team had left about 6 minutes behind us on the bike leg, and now as we prepared to launch onto the next kayak leg 48 minutes after arriving, our lead was growing.

And then you go and do stupid things. Ace navigator Jason is one of the best in the business. BUT! His memorization skills were a bit lacking on this day. Playing hot shot, he decided that we didn't need the maps to find the two checkpoints on this lake. To be fair, water navigation in many races is pretty easy. You either paddle down the ocean shore to a recognizable spot, or you paddle down a river to recognizable spot, or you paddle across a lake to a recognizable feature. You can't really hide anything on open water. (Different story in bigger races where you can't see the other side of said 'open water')

The first checkpoint was on a small island. No problem. The second checkpoint was at the far end of the lake, however there were no recognizable features along the shore. Just a bunch of rocks to the right, an open field in the middle, and a bunch of dense bushes on the left. I had looked at the map a few times, and like Jason figured we'd just paddle down to the end and see something. I wasn't worried.

Well, ten minutes after slowly paddling along the shore going "well, I think they'd put it over here", and "Can you remember anything about the map?" we were sorry to be such show-offs. At least it wasn't dark out! By process of elimination, we found the checkpoint flag tucked into some bushes in a rather nondescript spot. Whew. We turned around and paddled like heck back to the take out.

For the next section, we'd be racing daylight as well as the clock. It was billed as only a 19 mile mountain bike leg and it appeared to have more downhill than up, but after sizing up this race with the first bike leg, we were more prepared this time. We knew we'd be tackling much of the leg in the dark, so we tried to get out as early as possible with a few rays of light left to bike by. Jason, John, and I saddled up at the head of a fire road and began the rocky ascent. Sure enough, it was slow going and wouldn't let up for awhile.

Just before 0-dark hundred, we passed a team that had skipped the earlier bike leg in order to stay "on schedule" for the race. This was a legal and calculated maneuver by a few teams. If you don't think you have time to complete a section and be able to start the next one, then you can skip that section and take a time penalty. Fittingly, the team's name is Epic Sufferin'. A bunch of nice guys that just like getting out there no matter what. That's what this sport is also about.

An hour after leaving, John announced that according to his bike computer we'd gone a little over 4 miles. God bless Epic Sufferin' if we were going twice as fast as them....

In the dark, we found ourselves in a position that we hadn't been in in a while. Racing in the dark! We'd done a number of races this year which all seemed to start and end in the daylight hours. Racing at night is when the real fun begins (now you really think I'm mad, huh?) Just you, the moon, the silence, and the bears and wolves. We don't really worry about those things. And, yes, it is often fun racing at night. You're a bit loopy after racing all day, you're finally cool, you're really traveling into the unknown, and you're almost assured of having the trails to yourself.

We found ourselves dismounting and pushing our bikes over a number of piles of snow, through mud, and across small streams. We hopped through boulder fields and rode in granny gear up some short steep bits. And then we finally had a long downhill to the next transition.

3.25 hours and 19 miles later, we found ourselves at a campsite on the edge of a steep ravine. Here, we would actually get a few hours of sleep since teams could not start the next section until 6 a.m. This is more or less a built-in sleeping period, at least for some teams. We arrived at 10:30-ish, ate some food, sang some camp songs, and curled up in our tents.

Dawn broke early as usual. We unfurled ourselves, powered down some breakfast, and yep, suited up for more adventure. We wanted to jump out as early as possible on the kayak, both to maintain a psychological edge and in order to get to the next bike section as early as possible before it got too hot out.

We had to carry our kayak about 1/3 of a mile to the lake and then it was an out-and-back paddle of about 6 miles. We finally had the boat dialed in and the maps on board. And we ended up with the fastest time on this leg.

Speaking of fastest times on a leg, this race featured stage prizes for exactly this. In five of the eight stages, the team with the fastest time would win prizes from the race's sponsors. I can't honestly remember which stages held which prizes, but I know that we walked away with all three Tivo units that were up for grabs! Yes, Tivo, the fabulous TV recording device is a sponsor. We lost out on the first paddle due to described difficulties and I think we missed another opportunity in the final bike leg. Anyway...

From the boat, Jason, Jen, and I would bike the last bike leg of the race. It would be a long, long climb up over a range and then through an alternating rocky/muddy section to, of all places Mud Lake, and then an all-too-short downhill to the transition. At this point we were racing with well over an hour's lead on the next team. A few teams made up some time on us on this leg, but we were feeling comfortable enough with only one 6 mile trekking section left in the race.

And now, for the dramatic finish. Six miles, one hour and fifteen minute lead. John, Jen, and I would head out on the final up-and-over trek that would take us through some more great Sierra scenery and up to a short rappel off of a large tower of rock before descending down the slopes of the ski resort and back to where we started the previous morning.

I was the lead navigator on this section which only required us to find a trail in the woods, take it to a certain spot and then head up an open slope to the rappel. From here, it would be easy to basically retrace our route down the ski slopes from the day before.

Well, if you don't find your trail, sometimes it can get a little hairy out there. Taking cues from John's wrist top altimeter and following the map, I thought we had crossed the trail at some point and needed to turn back down to get to it. I was trying to avoid heading into a steep cliff face that we had to go around, and in the forest, I think I took that avoidance to the extreme. We were going at a good clip over the exposed granite slabs and through the cool woods. And then we came out of the trees into a rather disorienting spot surrounded by nothing but rocky terrain in all directions.

In my desire to avoid heading into too steep of territory, I had overcompensated and gone a little far in the other direction. Getting my bearings back, and not trusting our altimeter readings anymore, I saw that we had to go straight uphill to regain our course. We got on the right track, but had lost about 40 minutes to our romp through the woods.

When we got to the rappel, we got the news that the two teams that were behind us in the standings had been through a while before. We got through the rappel without incident, and then without taking off my harness or helmet, I led our charge back down the front side of the ski resort to the finish. Scott was pacing the bottom of the slopes like a panther, waiting for our arrival. He screamed for us to step on it because it was gonna be close...

So we crossed the line.

And then we had to wait. For the final time tabulations. They couldn't tell us right there whether we'd had enough to maintain our lead. They also had to get word from the rappel on how much time teams had to wait before rappeling. They would then try to reasonably credit teams for their wait time if they were behind another team.

And then we had to leave. Jason and John had to be back in the bay area. I was with John so I had to go, too. Jen and Scott were able to stay and it wasn't until nearly three hours later that we found out the results.

We won! With the lead we had before the last section, a 15 minute margin of victory was a little close for comfort, but we'd still done it. Team effort all around. With the win (and the Tivos) came a check for $2500. Minus all our expenses and we each ate a victory burrito to celebrate.

~Rick Baraff
Web Site: Rick Tales of Adventure

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