One Man Army: Race Report

Jeremy's story

Team One Man Army: Race Report

Frontier Adventure Challenge

Searchmont Resort

By Jeremy Paquin



Paddle to Pedal

It was no surprise Race Course Director, Lawrence Foster, had racers on the water early. The logistics of having arranged for an army of inflatable kayaks
would dictate putting them to use early for all teams. A quick 1 km sprint on foot from Searchmont Resort to the Goulais River funneled eager adventure
racers onto kayaks and on route to a surprisingly scenic 7 km meander downstream to Check Point (CP) 1.

I was eager to avoid the bottlenecks that inevitably ensue at boat launch during adventure races, having learned from experience the hard way. I decided
to pack ultra-light from the start, carrying only mandatory gear, one gel, one bar, and perhaps 5 ounces of Gatorade. At the start, I positioned myself in
behind fellow solo racer Adrian Makurat from Team KURA, whom I correctly assumed would be my greatest threat on the race course.

At CP 1 / Transition Area (TA) 1, racers portaged boats up a narrow trail to awaiting bikes. Out of the water I was on the heels of Team KURA, had my
passport quickly signed by race staff, and up the trail I scrambled with kayak in tow. A full bottle of gatorade and a gel taped to my bike were a welcome
treat as I quickly found my ride laying amongst some 65 others in a semi-organized heap.

I watched helplessly as KURA inched further and further ahead on the 9 km long rolling gravel road to CP 2. In my mind, I hedged my bets on my map
skills and foot speed for the orienteering section yet to come.

CP 2 was decision time for teams. If teams arrived before 12:30, they could choose to complete the advanced route, an additional 12 km on bike to CP 4,
followed by approximately 8 to 10 km of trekking, and a final 7 km bike ride to the finish line back at Searchmont Resort. The regular route was a
shortened version of the bike and trekking portions. As many as 12 of the 26 teams chose the advanced option.

As KURA led the field of teams, he was tasked with making quick navigation decisions, or be caught by chase teams. Roads and trails not shown on maps
provided by race organizers made for some confusion. I managed to keep him within sight, never more than several hundred metres ahead, until we
reached CP3 and entered a short, but technical trail back to the Goulais River. And so, after nearly 3 hours of racing, we found ourselves neck and neck.



Pedal to Foot

We dropped our bikes and gingerly crossed the swift moving Goulais River, scrambled over the river bank, and entered CP 4 / TA 2 together. Side by
side, we removed bike gear (shoes, helmets, gloves) and prepared for the trekking and orienteering section ahead, including CP 5 to CP 10. In my
transition area duffel bag, I had a fresh litre of water, a tasty Snickers, fresh socks, and my favourite Nike trail running shoes. We proceeded to walk and
jog lightly in silence and single file south along a trail paralleling the river. Then the two hour bushwhacking and river fording began...

Never more than 20 metres apart, and hardly a word exchanged, we scoured the shoreline searching for CP 5, constantly keeping the other within sight. I
spotted the CP (a race jersey hanging from a tree branch) ahead of KURA, memorized the number on the jersey, and quickly darted out of sight - the last
time I would glimpse my adversary. Once back on the trail and jogging north towards CP 6, I pulled out my passport and pen and signed the jersey digits
to the corresponding CP number, without slowing my step.

The CP’s 6 through 8 were met quickly as I tried to use my foot speed to create as much distance as possible. From a narrow double-track road, I plotted
my bearing northwest towards what appeared to be small creek on the map. But as I descended the valley, to my surprise, I came upon what appeared to
be the wide and slow moving Goulais River. Then I spotted a clue - a beaver - swimming downstream away from me. The wide expanse of water used to be
a small creek, as shown on the map. However, an assortment of beaver dams had swollen the creek to make it look like the Goulais. (Afterwards, I would
learn that Adrian from Team KURA made this error, assuming he had stumbled upon the Goulais River, becoming disoriented and losing perhaps 15 to 20
minutes searching for CP 9).



Ride Home

After I captured all trekking CP’s from 5 to 10, I had no idea whether or not I was leading. I was becoming increasingly concerned as I had not gone pee
since an hour before the race had started (some 6 hours had already passed). I jogged dizzily into CP 11, the last checkpoint, and was met by Lawrence
and his joyful 3 month old boy. Here I learned for the first time that I was leading. I plunged into my duffel to retrieve fresh water (I had run out earlier and
was forced to refill my bottle from the river), quickly changed back to bike gear, and wolfed down a handful of M&M’s while moving out of the CP area.

I have been racing consistently for nearly a decade. It started with a half marathon, of all distances. I experimented with many 5K and 10K road and trail
races, mountain bike races, duathlons, a marathon, a triathlon, and probably a dozen adventure races. After these events, my young son always asked:
"Daddy, did you win?" No son, I would reply. Only to explain to him that I was out to have fun, to exercise and become more healthy, and that I had tried my
best.

You see, my secret goal was to win this race. Of course, only a handful of people knew of my intentions (including Mr. Cooper who was sworn to secrecy!).
Once on my beloved Specialized Stumpjumper, I realized I likely would not be caught. I could not help it, of course, to glance over my shoulder several
times during my final half hour ride home. As I rounded the last bend in the road to the parking lot at the resort and the finish was in sight, there my mom
and son were waiting. He said: "Daddy you’re first," and glancing back he confirms, "and there’s no one behind you!" I slowed and encouraged him to run
next to the bike. And we crossed the line together.

As is traditional in adventure racing, the Race Course Director meets the winner at the finish with a firm handshake and a bottle of champagne. I popped
the cork and savored the sweet taste of victory.

Moments later my teeth began to chatter, and I was off to enjoy the finer things in life - a warm shower, fresh clean socks, and food without sand.



Links:

http://www.far.on.ca/2008/Searchmont/index.php

www.sleepmonsters.ca