Training Log Archive: urthbuoy

Event: Yukon Adventure Challenge
 

Yukon Adventure Challenge

It's 5 am and I'm tossing and turning my sore body, so I figured it would be a good time to get up, make some tea, and write a report.

I love the Yukon, at least at this time of year. Not much darkness, even at 3am.

The race started in Carcross, south of Whitehorse. There is history in every part of this territory. Here you can take a famous scenic train ride to Anchorage I believe (one day). You also don't want to sound like a wuss, as I'm pretty sure every where we went, some guy had hauled a moose or bag of gold down from the same location.

The race started with a large MTB climb. A 3500' climb in 13km took us up to a pass below Montana Mountain. I felt alright for the first 2/3rds and then like crap for the final 1/3. A washout broke up rhythm and walking for a bit of it started some cramping. 3 days in a vehicle may have not helped as well. The locals had the advantage in that there was a higher (but steeper) route that was all ridable. I noted it, and actually started to bike it with the guy that eventually won the bike section, but bailed back on to the main trail when a 4-person team went up that way. I dropped my map at one point and cost myself about 10 minutes as I went back to find it. I consider myself very lucky as it was not far back and only about 10' from a large creek we had biked through. So I crossed the creek 3 times in all.

Through the pass we carried on for another 6km to the CP. The CP staff were actually about 1km too soon, but I didn't think to say anything - just made a mental note. The next part I still can't explain well. We had a 2nd map showing trails and "possible" trails and I had drawn in the descent on my main map. I could not locate the trailhead, but noted all the terrain features that indicated where the trail should be, so I did some freeriding down through the alpine trying to hit the trail. I noted a foursome hiking their bikes up through a small pass and thought they must be on it (they weren't). I started to have a lot of 2nd guessing about the CP location possibly being in the right spot and I was about to get far off in the wrong direction. But I re-grouped and noted with all the features that it was where I was (even though it wasn't) and that is all I had to go on. I continued over the pass with the bike on my shoulder and looked far below to the paddle start. There was an old mining cable lift running up this side of the mountain and I kept tagging the towers, hoping to find a trail. Eventually I chanced upon it (or one) and enjoyed the sweetest singletrack descent. Bonus points go to the McHales for both providing a beautiful vista for such a MTB grunt and also a sweet descent (other than the freeriding).

I'm not sure where the trail continued in to the alpine and where I should have picked it up, but in talking to Greg McHale, he did the same thing I did when vetting the course. The locals didn't though, so I was back some 1/2 hour or such after the bike.

Alright! I can make up some good time on the paddle I thought. The paddle started on Windy Arm of Tagish Lake. I had borrowed Denise's Epic and had a great boat advantage. But, as I headed out I noted the boat really wanted to go left and refused to go right. There was enough chop that I thought it might be wave/wind action for a bit. After a few km's I was pretty frustrated with not being able to get a rhythm going, so I pulled to shore. As I mucked with the skeg, I noted it would turn left but not right (I think there was a kink in the right cable that was acting like a spring to absorb the pull).

I straightened the skeg to centre (as I don't like using those things anyways) and paddled on. I fought through the same problems as I made the turn west on Tagish Lake. As I was reaching my right arm down to try and sort out the skeg cables I flipped. ARG! F'n cold water! I made a half-hearted attempt to roll, but I had my gear on deck working against me. Next thing I was sputtering to the surface far (enough) from shore and with not a single sole to look for assistance from. I had come to the middle side of the boat and pushing my body up on it, I tried to kick the boat to shore. I did this long enough to realize that I wasn't going to do very well trying to push the boat sideways through the water. I also noted how cold I was getting and thoughts of what Fontaine went through entered my mind. I got my body up on to the upside down boat and layed as flat as I could and made some micro paddle strokes. This actually worked and I finally brought the boat to shore. I just kept working for the next few minutes to stay warm. I pulled out my soaked shell and put it on and tried to fix the skeg. No luck. The best I could do was try and keep it centered again.

I eventually got back in the boat, with all my gear safely stored in the hatches this time. I was a bit shell shocked. I've never been so timid paddling before. I kept alongside the shore and was having nervous attacks everytime I made a move to cross to the far side. Eventually I made it across, and actually got in to a pretty good paddle rhythm for about the last 3km.

Arriving at CP3, I was pretty far back of the leaders and felt I was throwing away this race.

The last section was a trek. I made a mental note, to finish strong and just race my race. I spent some extra time prepping my pack (though not well enough as I ended up carrying my bike tools with me) as I just wanted to go steady for the next few hours.

The first section was a 5km bushwack with a little gain if you straightlined it. I had entertained buying a dingy or such as there was a road/paddle option, but in talking with the McHales they took out the road option. Fair enough. I lucked out and found some survey lines that had been cut through the woods. This allowed me to hammer out the first 3.5 km or so. The rest of the trek was back in the thick of the woods fighting through the usual stuff (we should have a rating system). The lake the CP was on, didn't have a shore option as it was mostly bog.

I nailed CP4 and made up some time on folks in front of me. I also had a chance to scope the far mountain we were to climb. This was full on expedition trekking coming up. A 4500' gain up 6400' Caribou Mountain (no trails), so I wasn't even sure if my route would go. Slog slog slog through the forest. Slog slog slog through the tucamore. This is where my water ran out so it really became a slog up through the scree. I counted steps just to keep myself moving. I know I slowed down considerably. I summited the ridge I was following and then had about a km/1000' gain to the mountain along a shoulder. On the way, I heard water running down beneath the boulders so I dug myself in and drank. Oh beautiful crisp cool water! So delicious! Now I could start eating again and try and bring myself back around.

I had seen others climbing and had placed myself in 3rd, about 1.5 hours back of the leader and 25 minutes back of 2nd. I also had another solo male that I had passed coming up behind me and a team of 4. I can't get beat by a team of 4 I thought. So I began running down the mountain. On paper, this was way easier than in reality. It looked like a 6km descent to CP6. What I ended up doing is dropping down in to a valley a bit, then contouring along a loose scree slope for about 1km to gain a ridge through a weakness in it. There was some steep stuff all around.

Finally on the ridge, I could run for the next 3km. Eventually I got back in to the tuckamore (crap) and had to slow down. Back to a snail's pace, the next 2 km were some thick bushwacking and marshes. Coming out of the tree line in to a desert. Yep a desert. Pretty cool little feature to have here. I could hear cow bells a ringin' so I knew the CP staff had spotted me. Grabbing the CP in the middle of the mini desert, it was nothing but a 2km road run/walk back to the start/finish. 3rd.

I was happy that I kept it together. This was as tough of a race as some expedition ones. Racing solo has its differences as well. Especially in a race like this (are there any others?) in which you really are in the wilderness. My bear spray sat on my hip belt the entire time of the race.

This was an attempt to springboard myself back in to racing, so I had few expectations based on my training of late. Patagonia may be on the list in February, and that appeals to me.

My hat goes off to the McHales for putting on a great race in a beautiful location. The locals are a tough lot to put themselves through this as their first race.

At this time, the McHales have not made it home, so I hope everything is alright. I will likely post some photos/report on SM.ca as well.

C • Congrats! 10