Snowbird Adventure Race, 6 Hours, 17 Aug 2013

It's been too long since I've done an adventure race...months I think.   Which is also probably the last time I've ridden my mountain bike.  Or any bike for that matter!  My summer has been filled with backpacking and paragliding and road trips.  I can't complain.  My bike should.  

I signed up for the 6 hour Snowbird Adventure Race with just a week or two to spare, thinking it was great that the race was so close to the house.   It got even closer when I got the map of the course and saw that the start line was down in my favorite running gully...my stomping grounds, if you will.

But as I traced the course from the start to the finish...I may have groaned.  UPHILL ALL THE WAY.      I prefer downhills myself.  Anyway, the race started near the TRAX Station at the Sandy City Dog Park.  I took a shortcut here and gained 50 feet on the rest of the racers.  It was a momentary lead.  From there we found several checkpoints in Dimple Dell Park a.k.a "The Gully behind my neighborhood".   It was a hot morning already, and before every transition I *almost* ran out of water...whew.  

At Granite Park, after miles of sandy running, we grabbed our bikes.   Since the main section of the bike was all on road, and I had pre-decided not to do the off-road section, I was riding my hybrid bike.  It's a beast but might climb on pavement better than my mountain bike.  I'm still not actually sure...it weighs a lot.  At any rate, I spent the best part of the next 2 hours slowly riding up Little Cottonwood Canyon all the way to Snowbird Ski Resort.   That climb is a beast, too.  I stuck close to the boys in Lederhosen and hoped they wouldn't shake me.  

We were all happy to arrive at Snowbird, after ascending from 4500 feet almost to 8,000 ft.   The boys opted to continue on their bikes but I was ecstatic to ditch mine and finish the race on foot.   The rest of the course was a romaine (orienteering) style section, where each racer could choose which controls to reach in whatever order seemed best.  This is my favorite style of racing and I was happy to be thinking and navigation again rather than just mindlessly riding or running a straight line.  

The only mandatory control on this section was the Tyrolean Traverse, where we had to bring a harness and carabiners to essentially ride a zip line across a canyon.  The climb up to the traverse was brutal, though...by this time I was hot, sweaty, really tired, and trying to suck enough oxygen at 8,000-odd feet to even breathe.   I kind of stumbled up to to the traverse, enjoyed the wind on my face as I crossed the canyon for a few seconds, and then it was over.  Back to the navigation.  

I spent the rest of the race running up and down and between the ski slopes at Snowbird Ski Resort.  Just between us, it's more fun to ski down them and get the lift back up!  A few of the controls were easy to find.  Some of them weren't.  I worked out a route that looked to minimize how many ups and downs I had to do.  I still waded through a creek and bushwacked through some scrubby trees and tripped over a few things.  And I was doing pretty well until I got to a control labeled something like "Aspen tree grouping".   I navigated near it using a mountain bike trail, which got me to about 100 meters away, but in front of me at the trail zig-zag was an impenetrable line of dense bushes marching both up and down the steep hillside.   I couldn't see any way around and decided to go through.  I sort of closed my eyes, push my head down, and blindly grabbed onto branches hoping that there would be somewhere to put my feet on the bushes, too.  Because the ground was out of sight by this point, as well as the sky, and I couldn't see through the other side, either.   There could have been a whole family of bears living a few feet from my path and I wouldn't have known.   I did see a moose later, who seemed more surprised to see me and ran off leaving some very fresh scat!

I may have tripped and fallen a few times...the scratches on my legs are now a week later starting to heal up.   Somehow I worked my way over to the holy grail, a group of aspen trees.  Finally out of the scrubby stuff, although the terrain was still pretty terrible.  I guess a lot of snow covers a lot of bushes in the winter time....  Anyway.  No control in site.  Another racer shows up.  We look at every group of aspen trees we can find, painfully working our way up the hillside.  Nothing.  He disappears.  I decide to give up after about 30 minutes of looking.   While trying to find a way down which doesn't involve going back through those bushes, I stumble onto the control.  Success.  At least by accident.   But I'm convinced the location wasn't right on my map...I guess shoving through bushes seems a lot further than it really is.  

Almost out of time now but get 2 more controls on the way back to the finish.  I'm just under the wire and happy to get everything but 3 controls.  From what I hear a couple of those were tough too, so no time to have gone looking for them.  No one gets the uber-prize, for the final control on the tram station at the top of Snowbird.  I couldn't fathom the idea of climbing another 3,000 vertical feet and didn't attempt it...but the prize was a weekend retreat at Snowbird so bummer that no one else made the attempt either.  Maybe next year.

Points get counted and I'm surprised to get second overall!   Only 20-odd racers but I'm psyched to be very close to the win...only 14 minutes behind the 1st place guy, who was the one I got lost with looking for the Aspen tree point.  I don't think I could have pulled out 14 minutes faster anywhere but getting the same number of controls feels great!

Congrats Graffiti Racing for a great inaugural AR at Snowbird...hope you keep the surprises coming next year!

Results are HERE

The checkpoints

AXS Moab Adventure Race, 13 April 2013

My first adventure race after moving back to the USA was the AXS Moab Adventure Race, part of the Adventure Xstream Race Series.

Although I am busy trying to start up a new business (more on that soon), I knew that this race in Moab was a must-do.   Any excuse to visit Moab, really!  

The race started from Red Cliffs Lodge, about 17 miles up the Colorado river from town.  Just the drive up up the river was really scenic, with the towering cliffs on each side.    It was a chilly morning as the race started at 730, although the sun was shining in a blue sky and the weather seemed perfect.

Mountain biking was the first stage, although for the first 20 miles, a road bike would have been a lot easier!   Castleton Towers came and went, along with a few other standing stones.  Racers struggled with the uphill section, which although was on smooth pavement, kept going and going and going.    In fact we climbed about 5,000 feet, almost a vertical mile in elevation.  The La Sal Mountains kept getting closer and closer, and by the time we were gasping for air at 8500 feet, there were snowdrifts still left on the side of the road.

Despite having not ridden my bike since January a mere oversight in my race training, I felt good as we slowly climbed up to snow line.   However, my chain was squeaking a little immediately, reminding me that I hadn't lubed it since cleaning my bike and having it shipped here from England.   Another oversight.  About halfway up the climb, the derailleur stopped functioning correctly and when I would stop pedaling, the chain would wrap itself up into the derailleur.  You can imagine that was not a good thing in a race....  Thinking it just needed some lube, I racked my brain to think of what I could put on the chain.  Spit?  Water?  Aha!  The tube of Neosporin from my first aid kit is greasy, I'll try that!

I imagine I looked pretty silly putting ointment on my chain, and got noticed by a few teams as they passed me.  Unfortunately, it didn't help at all, so at least on the uphills, which went on for 3 consecutive hours, I just resolved to keep pedaling constantly.   And worried about how I would ride down a hill.  Any hill.

Finally I reached the first checkpoint at the highest point in the race.  There I begged a truck full of guys with bike racks to lend me some real chain lube, which also did nothing to help the chain.   They were curious and had a look at my bike, but nothing seemed to help.  After a few minutes I had to say,  "thanks, but I'm in a race and I'll just have to deal with it."

The downhill started fast and furious, by this time on gravel, and my attempts to keep pedaling to keep my chain moving was close to impossible.  When I stopped pedaling, the chain flapped furiously against my spokes and I figured it would be a miracle if I made it down without breaking something.   What followed was a lovely descent that literally went on for 20 miles, with only one significant uphill. Every race needs at least one hike-a-bike section, right?  None of it was singletrack, just nice ridable swooping gravel, going down and down into the canyons on the other side of the plateau we had climbed.   My chain kept flapping, making it hard to start pedaling again on the small uphills and generally slowing my speed a little.  The lost time would come back to haunt me later...but the chain never broke.

At the bottom end of the road we entered Onion Creek Canyon, where our first special stage of the day came in the form of a rappel.  I had been hoping it would be really high, but knowing that we had to hike up to the top of it, was glad it wasn't too tall.  Even so, we lowered ourselves off the top of a cliff that must have been higher than I had ever rappeled before.   At the bottom, my belay device attempted to leave burns in sensitive places, it was so hot!   I dunked it in the creek before running back to my bike.






The rest of Onion Creek was a nice descent, going across the creek at least 20 times but nothing that wasn't ridable and the views were awesome.   Let me just say I love the scenery here, it's amazing!    Transition was in Onion Campground on the river, where we had dropped our running and paddling gear the night before.  I had a quick change of shoes and was off to the canyoneering section, a 6 mile loop up to the bottom of Fisher Towers and back.   A small drainage just off the road led into a nice little slot canyon, nothing spectacular but easily runnable and scenic.  I guess a few people got lost on this loop, but in my naiveté, I just followed the drainage I had seen on the map and it led me right out again.   Luck?  Hmmm.   I put some time into another solo runner behind me through the canyon, and hoped it would be enough to stay ahead of her on the river.


Another quick transition and I was on the water.   The wind had picked up, yet it seemed warm enough not to need wetsuit or paddle jacket.  I tried not to think about how cold I would get if I would fall in, and resolved not to do such a silly thing.   It was my first time in a rubber Ducky raft, and I wouldn't call the river fast moving, so I wasn't moving terribly fast at times.    The wind was the biggest factor, almost pushing me to a standstill on certain sections, where I would have to paddle like crazy just to not go backward!

After an hour or so, I turned a bend and could see the finish line way ahead of me.   And unfortunately behind me, I could see another female solo, steadily catching me up with a faster sea kayak.  Honestly she passed me like I was standing still on the water, and dwindled to a speck in the distance soon after as I struggled with my Ducky.   Oh, well.   The worst of the wind blew up within feet of the finish, and while I could see the finish dock, I was still going backwards at times.  Demoralizing.  I finally managed to touch the dock, carry my boat up the ramp, and run to the finish line.  Which ironically had blown down from the wind gusts.

Rob and his mom, which had graciously cheered me on at the start of the race, spend the day exploring Arches National Park.  Amazingly enough, they were back in time to cheer me on at the finish, too!

My final time was 9 hours 20 minutes, which was enough to earn me 3rd place in Women's Solo category.  Final results are HERE.   I ended up 22nd out of 109 teams, so quite happy with that!

At the start!

At the finish!

Colorado River, race morning

Rob and his mom visit Arches NP while I am racing!

Slickrock MTB Trail, Moab

Ah, slickrock.  Where have you been all my life?   I almost couldn't have imagined that there is a place in the world where biking can be so much fun.   The Slickrock Trail above the town of Moab is rather appropriately named.  The whole trail is rock.  Smooth, slick, red and white rock.    Aside from a few sandy slots, the WHOLE TRAIL IS ROCK.  Amazing.    

Luckily we had brought a couple of bikes down to Moab on the RV,  I guess someone in our group knew that we would need them :)   The trail above town has a couple of loops, one of them a short practice loop where Aidan, Nick and I tried out our moves.   The rock got steep at times but wasn't technically difficult at all.   In short, it was a heck of a lot of fun.  I will just ignore and not mention all of the times when I had to get off my bike to push up the short, steep hills.   

I got a kick out of the trail markings...they were literally little stripes of white paint on the rock.  I guess in the absence of paths, vegetation, tire marks, or other ways to naturally make trails in normal terrain...little strips of paint work perfectly.  It was like following a little racecourse around the rock.  It sounded a bit like a racecourse, too...we were sharing the space with a couple of motorcycles having as much trouble as we were, and it was jeep weekend.   So on the jeep trails, beer drinking spring breakers were driving their 4 wheeled vehicles up rocks than normally no one would want to get near.  I was happy to be on my human-powered bike instead.  

It was warm, it was sunny, it was dry wow, I can't imagine ever riding this in wet weather.   After the practice trail we set off on the longer loop, and made it about halfway before we had a snack and turned for home.  After all, there is great rock climbing in Moab too, and a lotta day left for exploring!   

Behind the Scenes: Yorkshire Dales Open 5, 3 Mar 2013

The March 2013 Haglofs Open 5 was in my backyard.  More or less.  Or at least it was my backyard before I decided to change careers and move to Utah to pursue a job in nutrition.   So I am writing this from thousands of miles away now and wish all of my friends in England a rather tearful goodbye. 

But back to the race, or should I say race planning.  Knowing that this would be my last event in the UK (almost literally as I flew out the next day) I volunteered to help Tom Needham with the planning of the race.  As it turned out, Tom had other things come up and didn't have much time to plan, so I was happy to step up and do a bit more.  My last tour of the local moors, I guess you could say. 

I started with the run course, and with a blank map started wandering around the countryside looking for cool things to attach controls to.   My map soon became littered with notes, cool places to attach controls, cool things to see, and I discovered much more about my lovely backyard than I had imagined.

After the notes came a few meetings with Nicki, more recce time, more revising, and finally the maps.  There were some bumps in the road.  Who knew I wasn't supposed to attach controls to things that weren't actually a feature on the map?  But that tree is out the middle of nowhere all by itself, and it's really cool, can't we use it anyway?!  We got creative with a few locations, and I sacrificed my favorite tree because there was absolutely nothing near it we could use.   (Racers, you got lucky as that saved a bit of up and down on the run!).  Our first bike recce was a muddy, snowy mess...it took us 5 hours to get around half of the course and it was very slow going.   Mentally I was saying YES!...no one is going to clear my course!

When the time came to put out the controls, it hadn't rained for a few days and the going was marginally better.   But the winds were howling and we had two long days of fighting our way out onto the moors while attempting to drive to as many as we could.   When we split up to do some of the run, I  put out a couple of controls, then finally arrived at my final location.  Doh!  I had left all of my cables back at the last control!  #$%@   Huffing back to get my supplies took the energy out of me, and I left the lone control for the next morning instead.

Race day was perfect.  The weather had been dry for 2 weeks, the trails were super fast, it wasn't sunny but at least it wasn't cold or windy either.     I enjoyed the day spent in transition checking all of the racers in and out and watching the smiles on their faces.  A minor hiccup was in the form of a stolen control, near an intersection.  A replacement was put out but that couldn't account for time lost searching for it, sorry.   The leaders didn't seem to care, as they were on the way to clearing the course with time to spare...in perfect weather that's bound to happen.   All in all, everything seemed to go smoothly, even the setup and teardown of the new yellow Haglofs sign.

So thanks everyone for coming to race in my old backyard.  I miss you all, and you are welcome to come visit me in my new backyard, anytime!

Sarah finds my favorite tree!

Adrian on the limestone pavement

The cow "pandas" make a reappearance

Adventure Racing Ball, 23-24 Feb 2013

For at least the second year in a row (I wasn't around before that to really know) the Adventure Racing social weekend event was held at the Thurston Outdoor Education Center in Coniston, Lake District.   Sarah had convinced me again that we had to go, and even came back early from her holiday in Spain to head up there for the weekend!  Now that's dedication.



Photo courtesy of Kate McKerrow

After what seemed like 9 continuous months of rain, we finally had a dry week leading up to the Ball.  Which meant that the trails were just normal muddy rather than in raging floods.   Rather suprisingly, I kept my feet dry on the Saturday social bike ride, where Sarah and I found ourselves at the slow end of the slow group while enjoying the scenery.   Or at least that's what we used as our excuse when the rest of the group had to wait up for us!  






Saturday evening was the traditional ceilidh (pronounced kaylee), it's a Gaelic social evening.   Between sets of the band Striding Edge, we had the yearly awards presentation, with the announcers keeping the crowd in stitches.  I think the the dancers were happy to get a break and cool off a little, too.   Even though all attempts to start a fire in the cold barn had failed, so it was pretty chilly in the building!

On Sunday morning everyone was feeling the effects of a late night, and after a slow breakfast, small groups of people heading out for walks, runs, rides or whatever took their fancy for the day.   Sarah and I headed off with Pete to take a nice hike up to the top of Old Man of Coniston.   I guess the snowy peak appealed to us.  It was a beautiful day.  Really, it was.  At least, until we hit the snow line and wondered if we would need crampons to get to the summit.   We even got a little off trail and found a cave with some pretty cool icicles...amazing how much they look like stalagtites just inside the cave.   The rest of the way wasn't too slippery or icy, so we made it to the summit ok, with good views of the hills around us and just the peaks covered in snow.   We did take a different descent route to avoid a particularily steep and slippery section.   It was nice to see snow again, although now I'll say, I'm officially ready for spring again!