Trioba at Index, Wa

May 30, 2009
By Murray Maitland
Team Verve (Pēteris Lediņš, Ian Hoag, Christi Masi, and me)


Friday morning, the day before the Trioba Adventure Race, like every morning, I read my horoscope. “Your team has the advantage” it said.

I hope that the forecast holds for Saturday as well.

Even though people make fun of my horoscope-reading ritual, it’s always a positive message and sometimes it is a good source of motivation. The message I most often get is “believe in yourself”. In other words “toss off the anxiety, and have confidence”.

Saturday morning, the smells, sights and scenery at the village of Index were spectacular and the weather was wonderful. Index is a small footprint of human development at the edge of the Cascade Mountains northeast of Seattle. Pyramidal peaks punctuate the perimeter of the view. The blue-grey Skykomish River, on the edge of the town, was filled to the brim with spring runoff.

While the race director, Glenn Rogers, gave the pre-race oration, followed by a video on how to deal with rafting safety, I looked around the room at the other teams. I always feel self-conscious in a group of competitors like this. Team Verve doesn’t particularly look like a group of classical athletes compared to the muscular, lean people around us. What could possibly give our group an “advantage” compared to everyone else there? Some of the people I knew from previous races, especially the top-seeded team, “Mergeo”, where Peteris and I are on their website as team-members. The team that “Mergeo” assembled for the Trioba race was physically stronger and better mountain bikers compared to our team. So what attribute could possibly make us competitors here?

The race started with a mountain bike peloton. Soon our team was at the front of the pack and soon we were pushing our bikes up a steep, power line, ATV trail, and soon we couldn’t see anybody behind us …. But that was because one after the other, four teams crested the ridge ahead of us, having taken a shorter route.

There have been so many races where the first section doesn’t go smoothly for me, that it doesn’t bother me anymore. We just need to use those teams as motivators.

Pushing our bikes up the steep gravel was already getting close to my aerobic limits and it was getting hot. Could we possibly keep the pace up enough to catch them?

Team by team we reeled them in until only Mergeo was ahead. They were leaving the bike to foot transition area, just as we were arriving. We were within striking distance, and I’m sure they could feel it. A quick change of footwear, and we could have been right behind them.

I have no idea why Peteris asked to take the “passport” which contains information about the course, as well as checkpoint punches and initials as evidence that we had been following the prescribed course. I gave it to him, and then we started to run towards the first trekking checkpoint. Teams must have both the map and the passport to finish the race or they are disqualified.

“So you have the passport?” I said as we worked our way through underbrush to the ridge top checkpoint. Some Latvian curse/expletive followed and Peteris immediately turned back towards the bikes. No, he didn’t have the passport. Back through the bushes to the bikes with double the leg slashes. A few more minutes lost. More advantages to our competitors.

Still, we caught the Mergeo team members on bush-covered, old logging roads, about half-way through the trek section where the next few minutes created the first deciding factor in the race.

Team Verve was slightly ahead of Mergeo as we set off bushwhacking between checkpoints. Mergeo chose a slightly different route, and I kept thinking that their route must have been better. We were uncertain about the location of the checkpoint and our travel speed was very slow, over and through the vegetation. These are the times I tend to get very panicky. It is possible to spend hours looking for a checkpoint if things get bad, while our competitors could already be there. We don’t hear or see anybody else, so Mergeo must be well ahead of us by now.

It was only a few minutes, and we found the checkpoint next to a talus slope and some snow. We guessed that the old footprints in the snow were from the person who set the checkpoint, so we started following them in the direction of the next checkpoint. But there weren’t any new footprints. We were in front of everyone!!

Arriving at the bikes, we quickly put on our cycling shoes and set off down the 2,300 ft descent. Do we have enough of a gap to keep ahead of Mergeo? It was mostly dusty, gravel roads with the occasional vehicle including dirt bikes, quads, and SUVs. I didn’t have any illusions about my ability as a downhill mountain biker compared to the Mergeo team. My ears were just waiting for sounds of Mergeo behind us. Damn! My ears heard the sound of air hissing out of my back tire - another bonus for our competitors. Why always me?! Quickly, the team worked together to get back on the road, but it made our expectations of being overtaken even greater.

The next portion of mountain biking was great. Who said mountain bikes and dirt bikes couldn’t coexist? Dirt trails with banked corners and reasonable rocks on a gradual descent were a pleasure to ride in the glorious tree-filtered sunlight. Occasionally, there were a few signs of erosion, like a puddle but in general it didn’t look like a dirt bike track.

Down this section, Peteris insisted that Ian go first, and Christi follow him, so that she would have a model mountain biker to emulate. We stopped briefly to get a checkpoint and Peteris again emphasized his strategy. “I want Ian to go ahead of Christi so that she knows where to avoid problems.” Ian took off through a puddle, buried his front wheel, and went over his handle bars into to the water. This was obviously good evidence that Peteris’ strategy was sound.

Still ahead of Mergeo, we arrived at the water-filling station which was also going to be our finish line when we returned down the Skykomish River, white-water rafting section. You would think that this would be invigorating moment, to be in first place at the half-way point.

Confusion reigns! Glenn, the race director, is angry at us. Christi is upset. As a team, we are forced to go back along the route about 30 meters before we can fill our water containers and get going again. The clock ticks forward as we go around in circles.

Good training! Remain calm. I wanted our team name to be Sang Froid (Blood like ice!) At this point, 5 hours into the race, IQs drop to very low levels while emotions run high. Just keep moving forward.

Now, we reached the second deciding factor in the race. We had dropped our bikes again, and were ascending another 1400 ft. running, walking, and trying to keep ahead. This time is was hot and we were suffering. Cramps started setting in: hamstrings, quads and calf muscles. Not for me, but for Ian and Peteris. All we need to do is get to the rafts first.

It was our mantra. All we need to do is get to the rafts… FIRST!

We came to the bend in the road where we would get off the road 30 meters NE to find the checkpoint. We did exactly what we needed to do as a team. We struck through the first, thick layer of sunlit bushes into the forest. Fanning out, we covered the maximum amount of area, but the checkpoint wasn’t there.

It has got to be there! But it wasn’t. Think! Quick! Where could it possibly be?

Looking to my left, there was a really nice plateau with open trees, like a park. I quickly rushed down towards the creek, and found the checkpoint. Then we quickly headed out to the road, arriving there just as Mergeo headed into the bush. They were only about 20 seconds behind.

And that was the end of the race.

Sure, there was lots of uncertainty. We pushed, and pushed… Step by step we increased our lead. Team Verve went from being twenty seconds ahead to being 6 minutes ahead by the time we got to the rafts. Christi kept saying, and Ian translated into Spanish: “We’re on fire! Scorching!” A sharp something stuck into my foot, step after step, but there was no way I was stopping.

All we need to do is get back to the boats… FIRST!! And we did.

I would like to say I enjoyed the white water rafting, since at another time I would have. Every time a splash came towards my mouth, I tried to suck it in because I was so dehydrated. My arms, although I hadn't really used them all day, were drained of blood. All I wanted to do was sleep.

The white water rafting was a classic finish. Our guide was great because he was vibrant, light-hearted, and understanding. He was a fresh voice encouraging some very beaten-up competitors. It was truly beautiful, and I dreamed about a previous life. My wife, Lisa, was a white-water guide, and I paddled a slalom kayak. It seemed like eons ago. My first kayak roll in white water felt as real at that moment, as when I did it.

Ian suffered the most at that point. More cramps…tingling throughout his body… “loopy” he said. I thought to myself “Good man! You’re a real competitor.” Nearing the end, Ian asked if we could take a 30 second break, drifting on the current before the finale where we would carry the rafts to the finish line. Almost synchronously, Peteris, Christi and me said “no way”.

That was it! The end!... No, not really... The team rejoiced, not as much about our first place finish, but rather the fact that we won a free entry into the September 24-hour race. While I don’t want to minimize the teamwork by Ian and me, I have never felt the energy from a pair of adventure racers like Christi and Peteris.

OK. Now it’s the end.