Adventuring

This weekend, Dave and I competed in a 12 hour adventure race in Oqwauka, IL. It was hard work but well worth it. At the pre-race briefing on Friday night, I was wondering to myself what in the heck I was thinking to WANT to do this to myself. But as we raced, I realized I could do it, I wasn't very good at it, but I could do it. That is an incredible feeling. We have awesome friends (Todd and Lori Larsen) who have been racing with Dave for a few years now and graciously have included me into the group. It's always fun talking with them and getting to spend 12 hours with them was fun too.

The pictures are before and after from our friend Monica. The first one was taken on Friday night when we first got there. The after one shows the bedragled group. We didn't get all the checkpoints but we did finish within the 12 hour limit so we were proud.

One thing I really thought I wouldn't be able to do was the Tyrolean Traverse. I have described this on here before as a rope stretched straight across a river that we harness ourselves to and then have to pull our body weight across it. It's usually okay for the first half when gravity helps but in the middle, with the weight of your body pulling the rope down, you realize 'O crap, I have to pull myself up to the other side now'. The twist this time was that we actually had to pull our bike across with us. So I'm strapped to the rope and my bike is strapped to the rope and to me. Standing there watching people go before me and struggling, I really thought it would be impossible. I have almost no upper body strength and therefore I thought I'd get stuck in the middle and have to hang there forever. Dave kept assuring me that wouldn't happen. He said this is a team effort and therefore if he had to come and get me he would. Turns out the river below was too far down for him to walk out and grab me. So he went across first. (Our friends were on the other rope going at the same time as us). When it was my turn, I got to the middle okay, hand over hand, but then I slowed down considerably when I didn't have gravity in my favor anymore. I ended up grabbing the rope with both hands and heaving myself. It took me awhile, it really did. I would get tired and just hang for a few seconds before feeling like I could give another heave-ho! When I finally got to where Bart and Dave could grab me I was so happy! I had nothing left, but I made it! I was challenged and made it! (Dave, by the way, shimmied across like a monkey.)

The worst part of the race for me was the single track biking. They call it single track because it's usually through the woods and the path is only big enough for one rider at a time. There are usually sticks and branches that you may have to get your bike over. There could be big rocks in the way. There are usually hills and twists and turns that you have to manuever around. This time all of the single track was sand. Where they got sand in Illinois is beyond me. We're talking beach kind of sand. Deep, soft, fine sand. And we had to ride our bikes through it. I ended up walking for almost all of it. I hated it. The only thing I loved about single track that day was being done with it.

Note of interest. If Oqwauka sounds familiar to anyone, it is probably because of an elephant. Norma Jean was a circus who died in Oqwauka and they didn't really know what to do what with her so they got a backhoe and buried her right there. We had to stop and get our passport (to punch our checkpoints) at the grave of Norma Jean. RIP Norma Jean.