The Shag

The fall is my favorite season; the summer heat has finally started to dissipate, the evenings bring crisp cool weather, and the foliage begins to fade from vibrant greens to rusty hues that make romping around in the woods all the more enjoyable. The autumn also brings NYARA’s annual half day Shag, this year’s event taking promising 16 hours and commencing at 1 AM on Friday night…or is that Saturday morning? There are things I like about the late start: you get the nighttime racing that takes AR to the next level compared to a sprint or standard half-day event, you get the added challenge of sleep deprivation, ramping up the mental challenge which also adds to the fun of adventure racing, and you save a bunch of money and time since you don’t have to worry about hotels or commuting home on Sunday.

That said, I’ve had less than stellar starts to both such races this year, NYARA’s Longest Day in the spring, and now the Shag last month. In both cases, I botched navigation decisions early on before settling in to run a cleaner race. Once again, I have to thank my patient and trusting teammates who let me work out the kinks in the early hours, but that doesn’t make me feel better when you cough up an hour, maybe an hour plus, on the first leg of the course.

I’ve thought about this and tried to figure out what exactly has gone wrong after the starting gun in these two races this year. I’d like to chalk it up to the darkness, as nighttime nav is significantly more challenging and difficult, but I don’t think that’s it. Part of the problem, sure, but I’ve raced plenty of nights at this point, and I can think of a number of times when I navved far better than I did in NYARA’s series this year. Could it be starting at 1 AM, with an already tired mind? Could be, and I do think this adds to the challenge, but I think the real issue for me is rhythm. Usually, when you hit sunset, you’ve been racing for 12 hours or so, and you’ve worked into the maps and terrain. You’ve gotten a feel for the race director. Without these advantages, and with the typical race-start chaos, pressures and adrenaline, starting at 1 AM requires absolute concentration, something I apparently have not mastered, at least not under such unique circumstances.

Anyway, as always, NYARA promised a great race, and they delivered. I am constantly amazed at their ability to put together something new. Sure, some teams and racers knew the area around Waywanda State Park from living and training locally, but for those of us from some distance away, it was a course filled with new and rugged terrain. Indeed, for a 12-24 hour race, this one may be up at the top for being rugged. For all intents and purposes, pavement didn’t exist during 16 hours of racing, save two or three minimal stretches. Bushwhacking was frequent. The trails were all technical, challenging even the best of us, slowing down the runs to a shuffle at best while threatening to leave us sprawled out over broken bikes on the more technical of trails. Checkpoints were placed on the best of features: amidst boulder fields, atop exposed ridges of bare rock, in steep reentrants, aside stray boulders and on miniscule islands. The race was a constant slideshow of high vistas, the highlight coming just after 6:00 AM. We had suffered through early doldrums and disappointment and were trying to make up time on the race’s first foot section, when we strolled out onto a barren rocky ridgeline. Closing in on our next control, the sky was lightening, and we had turned off our headlamps by this point. A warm breeze swept across the rock-face, and in the distance, the sky was a collage of orange and red as the sun crept above the hilly horizon. It was one of those moments when all thoughts of competition melt away, and you forget that you’re in a race, up against a stiff time penalty if you don’t make it through the next few controls to the TA by 9:30 AM.

It was a spectacular moment, and there were several others, though less dramatic without help from the heavens: ridgelines with lakes down below, small lakes nestled atop hills, settled in small tree-enshrouded basins. The course just kept on pleasing despite the relentless terrain that kept pace slow and which ultimately left us with our share of parting bruises and abrasions.

Ultimately, we made up a fair bit of ground and moved better as the day went on. The hole I dug us early on proved a bit too deep to recover from entirely, but we managed to eek out a third place finish in the co-ed division and overall. This is in part due to our sticking to the race, but it’s in large part due to some struggles from EMS and two-person ATP who were absolutely killing the course through the first half of the race. A missed time cutoff midway through meant a severe point penalty for both teams on a day when they were running away with things, opening the field up a bit for the rest of us. So, while finishing on the podium always feels nice, it was tempered this time, knowing that EMS had been running so far ahead for so much of the day.

Congratulations to NYARA for another great race; Jim Kerlin and Sam Scuttaro created a beauty, and the two NYARA teams did their organization proud with a strong 1-2 finish. I’m looking forward to Nationals and the offseason, but I’ll be anxiously awaiting spring, as rumor in the woods is that Rodney and Amy have put together a gem for the Longest Day in ’11. I’m just hoping they don’t start at 1 AM!