The Race

The Odyssey One-Day Adventure Race. Teams of one, two, and four people have up to 24 hours (from 8:00 Saturday night to 8:00 Sunday night) to hike, mountain bike, whitewater canoe, and rock climb--navigating with map and compass all the way--80+ miles through the mountains of Virginia, carrying all of their provisions and gear (except bikes and canoes).

The Team

L-R: Robert Volpe (one adventure race, no finishes), Theresa Morningstar (experienced adventure racer), Nolan Watts (one adventure race, no finishes), Ken White (first adventure race).

The Conditions

Saturday night: cold, pelting rain mixed with fog, snow, and strong, gusty winds. Sunday: sunny, cold, and windy with gusts to 40 mph.

The Results

Lots of fun, lots of shivering. We took first place among coed and four-person teams; finished third place overall; set a speed record for four-person and co-ed teams; and we missed breaking the overall course record by just ten minutes.

The Narrative

Robert claims the race started in Boston, with the long drive to Theresa's house in Baltimore and then down to Lynchburg, Virginia, and he may be right. For me, the race began two hours before the official start time, when Nolan, Robert, and Theresa surreptitiously raided my pack to reduce its weight and bulk by about a third--the kind of teamwork I would appreciate when I was hauling the bag uphill for the umpteenth time the next day.

The race officially began at 7:00 PM, when we were given maps, a book of clues to locating the 11 checkpoints we would have to pass through, and an hour to start plotting a route. At exactly that moment, the skies opened up in torrents of rain...and we knew this wasn't going to be easy. We had The Plan, though: stay relaxed; move efficiently, but not too hurriedly; and use our combined strengths. The Plan lasted, oh, about three minutes.

Caught up in the adrenaline rush of the mass start, we somehow made a wrong turn within sight of the starting line...in the middle of a pack of eighty people. Interestingly, a half-dozen of them followed us. Laughing, we backtracked and headed up into the mountains dead last.

We weren't done goofing up yet, however. We quickly began moving up by running the flat and downhill sections of the trails, passing teams on the initial gradual climb. But after the first checkpoint, we were too impatient to begin the long climb up to the top of a mountain, and ended up bushwhacking a long, difficult route that could have saved us, at most, ten minutes…and left us frazzled. When we clocked in at 19^th (exactly in the middle of the pack) at the second checkpoint, we finally let go and started doing things right.

Although the course did not require top-notch navigation skills (most of it followed known trails and roads) or expert technical skills (the biking was mostly on roads and fairly easy trails), it did constantly go up or down--a lot. We were finally comfortable with the terrain and the maps, however, and with Nolan setting a brisk but workable pace, both

our navigation and our efficiency improved dramatically. The Plan was working--even if we were way behind.

When we reached the transition from the hike to the bike at around 1:00 AM, the rain turned to snow, and the wind bore down on us as we climbed straight up a 1500-foot pass. The exertion kept us warm, but we froze on the way back down into the woods. As it turned out, the 30-mile mountain bike was our salvation, as we passed most of the other teams, and then made the move that put us beyond the reach of just about everyone.

Towards the end of the ride, we passed the leading team in our division at the top of a long climb, thanks to a superhuman effort by Robert, who had, in his own words, "Satan living in his stomach." Then, we used Theresa's knowledge of the terrain. Recognizing that we could save a big chunk of time by bushwhacking just after the next checkpoint, we pushed hard to separate ourselves from the cluster of teams we had just passed. While they fiddled at the traffic jam at the checkpoint, we sprinted off the trail through the underbrush with our lights off to prevent detection; and crept downhill in the dim pre-dawn light while our competitors headed on a long, looping detour.

We arrived at the river and the canoeing section in fourth place just as the sun cleared the mountains. Proud of ourselves, and confident of a strong finish, we again abandoned The Plan. Robert and Nolan did the macho "Wetsuits? We don't need no stinkin' wetsuits!" routine. Theresa and I were glad we were in our own canoe, but we weren't entirely pleased at their bravado. Still, the river looked harmless enough....

None of us exactly excel at whitewater canoeing, but how hard could a couple of Class III rapids be? Not difficult, really, until the wind whipped up to 40 mph and began pushing our boats around like dry leaves.

Nolan and Robert went overboard first…and again…and a half-dozen times more. Fortunately, their frequent trips to shore to dump out the canoe gave them ringside seats for Theresa and the canoe heading one way; a paddle floating downriver; and Ken swimming 200 yards in pursuit of both. Thanks to Theresa's calmness and Robert and Nolan's, ah, perseverance, we survived.

We arrived at the rock climb shivering and exhausted, with bags and clothes now approximately doubled in weight and halved in warmth. Perfect conditions for a climb up ropes to a windswept ridgetop. To make matters worse, our closest competitors--expert paddlers all--had made up almost our entire one-hour advantage. They pulled into the climb dry and refreshed just as I finally wrung out the last of my clothes and struggled up the ropes to join my very anxious teammates waiting at the top of the cliff.

After a short hike, we headed back out on the bikes for a 20-mile ride that included two climbs, the second longer and steeper than the first. Determined to put ourselves "out of sight and out of mind" so that our rivals could not generate the enthusiasm to chase us down, we tried to hammer up the first part of the climb.

The problem: Robert was pale and weak as a ghost, and we all were still chilled. Pacelining wasn't working. The solution: Nolan provided a "turbo-boost," assisting Robert with a steady hand in the small of his back while Theresa and I ground our way up. It wasn't pretty, but it worked. After a long descent, we began the final, 1800-foot climb. This one really wasn't pretty, and Robert had to do it on his own (I couldn't provide a turbo-boost). But he dug deep, and we were rewarded at the top with a fast, fun, and technically challenging 45-minute descent back down to the finish line-and hot soup!

All in all, a great time was had by everyone. But I don't want to see my mountain bike for at least a week, and I plan to take the escalator out of the T station every morning for a while....

By Ken White Use when helpful…with appropriate reference.