I would have to ask Grant Killian of Untamed Adventure where the name Storm originated. The last time we did this race, 2 yrs ago, the skys did open up and brought forth a storm while we were orienteering on a Island flooded from a storm surge. This year, we had sun and daytime temps in the 70's, while 40-50's at night. The only real concern was sunburn, wind/waves trying to drown us, and some of the most ferocious mosquitoes on the planet. After years of being a near or full sell out race, this year had a much lower turnout. We still had over 20 teams, but that's a far cry from HRA races of past. True they don't advertise, as they haven't needed to. However, after attending a recent ironman, it seems multisport race attendance all over is generally down. Were not talking the IM brand though. Looking at the Upstate AR race in NC, which has a respected RD and was widely advertised, they even had a very low turnout. Maybe gas prices, flight and baggage costs, and economy fears are really taking their toll on racers. Fear, the enemy of fun...
For this race, we received three mytopo 1:24,000 and 1:35,000 maps along with a navigational chart of the Virginia barrier islands. Friday night, we only had 9 cp's to plot, which was pretty sweet in our current state. Which probably paid big dividends since Dave was sick. We ended up getting some sleep and also had nothing to stress about in the middle of the night. We really didn't know much about the intended course, except for the order of disciplines. However, there were 30+ cp's total, so we would be doing alot of intrarace plotting, possibly are fastest discipline.
Race started at 9am with a 7-8 mile paddle to Hog Island, hereinout referred to as Mosquito Island. We led the bunch in our barge of a kayak, the Necky Tofino, hoping it would pay off when the expected 20+knot winds came into play. I now understand why some guy chose to cross the Pacific from California to Hawaii on the Tofino, as he had to live on the thing for 60+ days. We could of brought along a few solo fast kayaks, but we were trying to keep things simple and survive any Storms. Originally, we registered as a 4 person with one support crew, planning on two boats with one of them being an ocean going canoe with float bags, just for yucks... On race day, due to injuries and the flu/cold, we were down to 2 racers and possibly no support. I suppose I was the last one last standing, as Dave was halfmast, but seemingly on the mends. However, he really wanted for us to get out there. Sure, alot of concerns if it was the smart thing, but in the end, we ventured to the Eastern Shore.
After getting home from vacation from 5 days with my wife 'away from the children,' it seemed everyone I knew had some virus brewing in the upper respiratory tract. Thanks goodness I was away sipping the latest flavored mojito and watching some awesome sunsets, as the good ole adeno, rhino, or reo virus were having a field day at home. My only issue was my usual overzealous workout vacation, since I literally ran, paddled, swam, and lifted weights everyday. I was pretty smoked by Wednesday, which is the usual time in my vacation when my wife says I finally relax. Anyhow, for this race, we had just planned on having fun and holding together, since Dave was likely to have snot dripping down his handlebars and paddle.
After the usual sprint race start and rounding the buoys just off Underneck island, we were treated to a following ebb tide going against a stiff 20-25 mph wind. If ya know anything about sea states, that combination sure creates steep waves. We had a small lead, but our boat design didn't love going straight into the waves and our skirts were unable to stop the deluge of waves from coming inside the boat. After some bailing and redirecting our course to avoid the deluge of waves at their worst angle, we gathered steam again and made it safely to Mosquito island. Anyhow, it was cool, since we were doing some real sea kayaking. The other issue we had was the continuous waves made it nearly impossible to read the map along the way, as we strained to see the numbered buoys and confirm our progress on the map. Apparently, 6 water rescues were carried out back offshore while we made out way around the 1st orienteering course. In reality, it was a fairly safe area, since the whole thing is surrounded by tidal marsh and Island. After we finished cp's 1-6 on the 0-course, we still had paddlers coming in from the Storm. I believe Grant Killian's alter ego and ghost lives among those Islands. Maybe it's name is Pike.
The perimeter cp's was pretty straight forward, requiring running along a beautiful beach, wishing we had a camera to take it in. Cp 2-4 however were located progressively inshore on the salt marsh, which is where we encountered the greatest density of mosquitoes I have ever seen. The latest two Michigan Expedition races pailed in comparison to this. Unfortunately, I left the "off" wipes back in my bin. About then, I remembered reading an article about kayak camping on the Eastern Shore barriers islands about 10 years ago, and the comments about mosquitoes became more apparent. Instead of toughing this out, we stopped and put on our shell jackets and pants, helping to ward off some of the attack. After tightening our hoods, we ventured into the bush. Reading a map was half ridiculous, since we were getting eaten alive. I am talking head to toe covered in them. They even were penetrating my orienteering tights. Eventually we clambered out of the bush still in a close 1st place, but down nearly 2 pints of blood. From our clockwise direction, cp2 was quiet the bugger, as it was located approximately a few meters off a nondistinct trail hidden in a dense swath of vegetation and mosquito swarms. We high tailed it out of there for sure. I suppose it was a good thing, as our mosquito friends had trouble following us if we ran thru the vegetation at sub 4 min miles. I'm telling ya, snot or not running down Dave's jacket, we might of set a PR on that trail. The good news is that West Nile and his friends don't generally hibernate on Islands such as that.
Then ensued a 5-6 mile paddle back to the mainland, which was just the right thing to wash off all the mosquito carcasses and blood. Now we had mostly a following sea and a pleasant paddle amongst the ospreys and other bird life on the salt marsh more inland. We got a few words of warning about the offshore wave breaks, but we were mostly treated to some nice ocean rollers coming in from the Atlantic. At the takeout, we were honestly pretty smoked, as the paddle out was amongst the most strenous I can remembering doing. Imagine the feeling of going thru a car wash blowing salt water in your face while sitting on top of your car. Dave did say the saline nasal rinse was helping his symptoms, so things were on the up and up.
After stumbling out at the takeout, we found we had alot of plotting to do. Dave packed and readied us while I plotted. Somehow, the mosquitoes seemed to follow us, but in reduced numbers. This time, we grabbed the Off with the highest concentration of Deet and chemicals that we could tolerate without dying. Dave also pitched in plotting on another map, eventually giving us more of a lead. After miles and miles of road miles which started to feel like a century ride, we started to get worried of getting too far ahead of our support person who was likely still back helping stranded paddlers. All the cp's were going off without a hitch. We did take the bike fairly easy and eventually stopped at a backcountry convenient store to restock, just in case our bins and gear didn't make it with us. They didn't have gatorade at that store, but had plenty of blood worms and fish bait for sale. We ended up leaving with some fluid brands we hadn't ever tried or cared to try, but we were getting desperate. Half expected the fellas from the movie Deliverance to walk in at any moment. No comment about the spooky guy behind the counter. Not making fun of the place or anything, just suggesting that this race had some flavor thrown in.
As usually happens in the lead, the race staff nearly forgot to give us the map to the singletrack mtbing. It seemed like we nearly woke them up when we arrived at cp15. They said "your already here?" I wanted to say "Dave and I got things to do tomorrow." I always love bumping into volunteers when in the lead, as you know at some point they start to get restless as AR is so unpredictable. So, I always love to see the reactions on their face. Anyhow, they were two great girls who were stuck sitting out on the edge of a farm field and graveled driveway reading the latest David Baldacci novel.
We also had a hard time finding the mtb course. Race director Mike mentioned that the entrance would be easy to see at night since it had reflecting tape, but any earlier and it might be more difficult. Since it was turning dusk, we never found it. The only non navigational part of course, and we couldn't find it. I had to grab the topo map and navigate us onto the mtb course then ride backwards along the course to get the check points. So, our lead vanished. No worries really, as Dave's snot was drying up, and we were willing to start hammering if needed.
After finishing the singletrack, we were back to biking on into the night and had two foot orienteering courses along the way, both held on apparently private farm property, which is always fun. Each one of them I wish I could of seen during the day, as they were located at waters edge. At times, the nav was challenging, as there was mostly nondescript terrain and very few features, which always seems to help reinforce some basic orienteering skills in a sleep deprived state. Kinda reminds me of the yearly Swamp Stomp race in Florida. Lots of pace counting and bushwacking along water features, as they were the only features around. I made one wrong guess not checking a water crossing at cp20, which was located on the other side of a inlet with about 150 meters of water in between, looking at the map. It was either a cold swim and trek thru low tidal muck, or running around. Obviously, after running around to the other side, we ran into very dense vegetation and found ourselves near someone's backyard. Not wanting to get shot, we ran back and planned on swimming. However, getting back, we didn't find water, but low and behold, there was an isthmus and small dam overflow now crossing that inlet. Oh Fart! The checkpoint was just on the other side of that crossing. I think we both felt like Moses at that moment as he crossed the water. It was our only significant time loss in an otherwise well executed race. That's AR, always striving for the perfect execution of a race, which never seems to happen in anything over 24 hrs. I suppose that is one of the greatest attractions of adventure racing.
Despite taking it perceptively easy on the bike and run, we maintained the highest average speed of an AR race I have done. We were several hours ahead of the next team, so chose to get home to our families just after the race. That was the most challenging part, driving home before any coffee/food establishments were open. Most of the high overall pace was generated from the 70ish mile bike section being pavement, which is fine by us, as we needed some bike miles in our legs. This race had 7 transitions and 3-orienteering courses, which kept it engaging every minute, until the last portage.
The final paddle back to Cape Charles treated us to more open water paddling as we paddled along the western shoreline, trying to stay clear of the low tide stakes and curious as to why people were out fishing off docks at 3am. The lights of Cape Charles in the distance played tricks with our depth perception, as the next thing we knew, we were at the entrance to the harbor for the takeout. After this 4 mile paddle, we were treated to a nearly 2 mile portage to the finish. We were surely cold and wet, but didn't care so much as the finish was just a portage away.
As always, they put on a great race. Pam and Mike (Pike) are among the most encouraging and undeniably friendliest race directors around. Pam makes a point of hugging all the racers at checkin and at the finish. All the cp's were spot on, most of the cp's were manned or required writing down a clue, and the unmanned cp flags were all cable locked to prevent theft. The water resistant mytopo maps were wonderful, and they even prelaminated the marine navigational chart. That was simply amazing. It was seriously a race to set the bar on how to run a race. The availability of a semisupport option using Paul of Liquid Lessons allowed us to race and still enjoy the linear format of the course. Paul was a hoot, as it was low 50 degrees at night, and he was striding around in shorts and a tank top. He was excited to have one of his teams in the lead, and even though he didn't know us, he became a father figure to us, all for the price of $65 to move our gear bins, kayak, and bikes. Many many thanks Paul....
