Siege on Fort Yargo

I recently competed in my second adventure race, the Siege on Fort Yargo. This race was quite different from the first one I did back in February in a number of ways. For one thing, it was about a sixth the duration (5 hours vs. 32 hours) and distance (20 total miles vs. 120 total miles). For another, I was the only one with experience on this team and the only one without experience last time. My teammates for this race were both women I've worked or lived with for a few years; in the first race I'd never laid eyes on any of my teammates until the race itself. Finally, this race was in North Georgia with temps approaching 90F while the other was in South Florida with below freezing temperatures. (Slightly ironic, wouldn't you say?)

There were many differences but the ending was the same - disappointing.

I recruited two friends for this three-person race. My main criteria for selecting them was their enthusiasm and availability. One of my friends, who I’ll call Fuchsia (her current hair color), is a co-worker and someone I’ve worked out with many times. We’ve done yoga, Pilates, circuit training, swimming, and running together. I was very familiar with her fitness level. Being 28 didn’t hurt either. My other friend, Ponytail (the only one with hair long enough for one), I’ve known for several years and although we’ve not worked out together, I knew she was an avid runner, former college softball player, "gym rat", and someone with an incredible work-ethic.

With my vast experience of one race, I was by default the Team Captain. As such, I was responsible for navigating, deciding who would do what and in what order, and handling problems should they arise. I also had to remind my teammates to stay hydrated, fueled, and as much as possible, have a good time. Early in the race it became obvious that the latter wasn't very likely for one of us.

The beginning was my least favorite part. There were over 100 teams and in relay fashion, each team member had to sprint downhill where all our team numbers (3 per team) were written on pieces of paper nailed to the ground. It was chaotic and completely random, but as soon as all three numbers were found, teams took off on the trail running.

I was concerned about the running because my teammates are avid runners and I’m not – at all. Fuchsia set the pace and having recently come in second in her age group in a local 5K, it was fairly swift. I fell in behind her and Ponytail behind me. Trouble was soon afoot. We had 5 running Check Points (CP) out of 18 total CPs and Ponytail seemed to be struggling and falling behind after the first one.

On the way to the course that morning I mentioned that just because someone was leading the way or seemed to know where they were going, none of us could afford to mentally “check out”; we all needed to stay alert. (When you're behind someone, it's easy to assume that they are going in the right direction and blindly follow their lead.) So, when I heard someone in front of us say, “Two down and 3 to go.” I realized we’d missed CP 2. I asked Fuchsia if she’d seen it and she said, “Oh yeah, we passed that awhile ago. I thought you saw it.” Fortunately, we hadn’t gone far.

Meanwhile, Ponytail kept dropping further and further behind. I was getting concerned and asked how she was doing. She said our pace was too fast for her. I told her to pace herself and to keep drinking fluids. We tried to find an intermediate pace, but we couldn't stop to rest or go much slower since we were already near the end. After CP4 we swam a short distance across the lake, a welcome relief from the heat, and then we ran back to the starting area to pick up our canoes.

There were still 8 or 10 boats at the launch area which meant we weren’t in last place although we weren’t far from it. I hoped we’d be able to make up some time on the paddling section, but that didn’t happen either. This was attributable more to our equipment than our performance. Our paddles were borrowed from a friend except for the bent one I already had any my canoe was bought years ago at a yard sale for $150. Combined, our equipment was worth less than a single paddle used by many of the other teams. Fortunately, there were only 3 CPs on the water and we found them easily, if slowly.

We had to complete a special test before beginning the biking leg. We were given a small board and a piece of PVC pipe and you had to use them as a catapult to launch a hacky sack into a circle 20 feet away. We all took several turns and I eventually got it after about 5 minutes into a 20-minute time limit.

Next was biking. I was hoping we could make up some time here. The trail was a blast from beginning to end. It was probably the most fun I’ve had off-road biking. It was all single track and had just the right amount of climbs, tight turns, whoop-de-dos, fast down hills, and nothing that was highly technical or scary. After picking up a couple CPs, I asked Ponytail how she was doing; her response was bleak. “I’m not going to lie. I’m miserable. This is way harder than I thought. I’ll never do this again.” I knew she'd been struggling, but I didn't think she was miserable. At this point, we still had a couple hours and a third of the CPs to go.

I was reminded of the time I climbed the Grand Teton in Wyoming. I was completely new to mountain climbing and I was with people who were very experienced. I was lagging behind all day the first day and they kept having to stop to let me catch up and as soon as I did they'd take off again. It was pure torture. I knew Ponytail was feeling many of the same things. Her body was begging her to stop, but we needed her to keep moving.

At the start of the race we were optimistic and wanted to try to get all the optional orienteering points but by now it was obvious we wouldn’t be attempting any. We had to downgrade our goal from 'doing well' to 'finishing' and the more we had to stop and wait, even this goal moved out of reach. With 4 CPs and 30 minutes to go, we still had hope but Ponytail was seriously struggling; she was on the verge of getting sick and passing out. Still, I have to give her credit because as much as she wanted to quit, she kept going.

With only 5 minutes to go we arrived at CP 17, another special test. Fuchsia was blindfolded and went down into a gully while I verbally directed her from above. She did great except for a small tumble over a big rock and a little bump on her head from a bridge beam... oops.. good thing she had on her bike helmet!

We had a couple minutes to get back for the final CP but it wasn’t enough. We missed the 5-hour cutoff by about 10 minutes and ended up with a “DNF” – “Did Not Finish”.

We may not have officially finished, but we didn't fail. We learned a lot about racing and our individual strengths and weaknesses and no one gave up. Hey, it took Benjamin Franklin over 1,000 attempts before he invented the light bulb and I doubt anyone would call him a failure! He learned something each time and built upon that until he acheived his goal. This race was one more step for each of us ...

Have you taken your first step?