Adventure Racing

G Day.

I've just noticed that this weblog (or "blog") hasn't been updated since June last year. That's a pretty poor performance and for this I apologise.

So, what's happened since then. Well I've been working away at APA Group, making sure my pipeline is still pumping ethane (it is) and that all other wrok related things are being looked after (they are). Enough about that though. Today I'm going to talk about maxAdventure racing.

Back in August my mate Dan from Manly (Manly Dan or Danly Man depending on your persuasion) suggested we do an adventure race out in the Hawkesbury. 15kms of trail running, 40km mountain biking and 10kms of kayaking. Sure, I said, no problem.

The "training regime" consisted of a few trips around Manly Dam (Manly Dan?) which is a 13km loop up near Manly on the North Shore of Sydney. It's a classic single track loop with some ridiculous drops, turns and outcrops that are just inviting you to share your head with the ground or a cheerful local tree trunk.

Having just purchased my mountain bike in Manly (red and black + shiny = fast) we headed up to the Dam track. I'd never done proper mountain biking before so each drop, turn, rut, and "baby's head" rock was greeted with the kind of fear you get once a year when you accidentaly step out on the road without looking resulting in a hair cut from a protruding bus mirror.

Most of the track is barely handlebar width with trees either side and rocks below. One mistake and you're guaranteed to hit either of the aforementioned hard things. My lack of medical insurance was playing on my mind.

Training session two was in my neck of the woods. A cycle to bondi via Watsons Bay, up and down hills with incredible views of the harbour and city. From Bondi we locked up the bikes and ran to Coogee and back on the cliff top track (standard tourist fare). After that it was off to Rose Bay for an hour of kayaking. Over a beer at the local RSL we decided we were ready for anything.

Our training regime didn't include a two hour 6am bus ride, 45 minutes of running up near vertical rockfaces or swimming fully clothed down fast flowing rivers. This was an elementary mistake on our parts.

The base for the weekend was Wiseman's Ferry. Like most places in Australia it's named after the aboriginal name, the (English) person who first settled there or an obvoius local geographical feature. In this case it was named after a chap called Wiseman who set up a ferry service (get it?). Poor Harald struggled to negociate the steep inclines down to the ferry crossing in the dark. It's wonderfully quaint waiting for the ferry, guided by two chain spans, to chug it's way over to collect you.

We made it to the campsite, set up our gear and sandwiches for the next day and headed to bed, gently serenaded to sleep by our neighbours love of late night techno music.



The race itself was an wonderful experience. We set off on a bus to the starting line with the intention of making our way back to the campsite within the requisite 12 hours. The first 3 hours of the race involved running down a single track trail to the river at the bottom of the valley. After a brief spell in the water itself trying to find the trail we started the long run to the top of the mountain.

There were at least five false summits on the way, each one as heartbreaking as the last. Our quads were destroyed by all the climbing and running whilst carrying full backpacks of water, supplies and a lifejacket. We made it out of the running section after 3 hours to the first major checkpoint where we collected our bikes and reattached our pedals. I should mention at this point that we had struggled to get the pedals off Danly Man's bike the previous night. Accordingly we had troubled getting the damn things back on. Get them on we did and we were on our way. Immediately after starting our biking my water bladder erupted, pouring my entire 2 ltr water supply down my back, through my shorts and on to the dusty ground. This was bad news. I had a safety 500ml bottle and that was it. Only 60kms to go.



As we were coming down the first major down hill on the bikes Dan's pedal came off. This was the beginning of the end of our intention of coming top half of the field. Cycling with one pedal is not a fun thing to do, it requires twisting your affected foot in a painful and repetative way. Not ideal for a man who recently had foot surgery.

Being in the middle of nowhere we had no choice but to continue on. The scenery was beatiful. We'd left behind the valley floor of the river and now were travelling through farmland with windmills, sheds and cows dotting the landscape. We quickly developed a routine whereby I'd hold out one hand and push Dan along for 15-20 seconds at a time before pulling back before the next push. This continued for about two hours. Push, rest, push, rest, walk up steep hill, freewheel down, push, rest.

The kayaks couldn't come quick enough. Two hours of kayaking through the hawkesbury river were sublime. The vista was just incredible. What made it all the better was the knowledge that absolutely nobody lived anywhere near there. It was just the two of us in the kayak, some water and the valley. Just beautiful.



After two hours of kayaking we were back on the bikes to finish the last two hours of the race. We made it in in just over 9 hours despite the lack of pedals and didn't even come last.

So what I'm trying to say is that if you ever get a chance to do an adventure race you should definitely do it. It was one of the best experiences I've had in Australia and cemented a friendship.



Sweet as. I'm off for a cycle cos it's hot as and I need some exercise.