From 4LPH41337.com

2008 USARA Nationals Info

• Date: Nov 6-9th
  • Thursday November 6, 2008 2:00-5:30 pm Race Check-in
  • Thursday November 6, 2008 7:00 pm Pre race Briefing
  • Friday November 7, 2008 6:00 am Final pre race meeting
  • Friday November 7, 2008 7:00 am Race Start
  • Saturday November 8, 2008 1:00 pm Race cutoff time (30Hrs)
  • Saturday November 8, 2008 6:00 pm USARA Happy Hour
  • Saturday November 8, 2008 7:00 pm Awards Ceremony / Banquet
• Location: Blue Ridge, GA
• Event Points Category: Nationals + 50 pt bonus
• Extra Info: Teams must register within 14 days of qualifying and provide a non refundable $400.00 deposit in order to retain their qualifying slot for the national championship race. The remainder of the teams entry fee must be received by October 1, 2008. Total entry fees are $900.00 per team - this includes the post race banquet. If a team fails to register within the 14 days their qualifying slot will roll down to the next finishing team. All race fees are non refundable as a teams acceptance prevents another team from attending.
• Team Registered: "Team ROC Gear/4LPH4 1337" Josh, Joanna, Jordan

Format:

• 30 hour unsupported modified rogaine

2008 USARA Nationals Pictures

2008 USARA Nationals
Jordan With Race Start Instructions	Josh Plotting Points on Train	Dawn In Mountains	Josh Draining Canoe
That Doesn't Look Fun	Gnarly Portage	Josh and Jordan Rocking	Joanna Hiking By Ocoee
Biking in Fall Colors	Joanna After Muddy Bike	CP14 Jordan	CP14 Josh
End of Bike	Run To Finish	Finish Time	Joanna (After)
Josh's Foot Warmers	Team ROC Gear/4LPH4 1337 Finish

Full Album (Not yet uploaded)

2008 USARA Nationals Maps

Google Maps Course Map

2008 USARA Nationals Map 1

2008 USARA Nationals Map 2

Coordinates 1

Coordinates 2

Coordinates 3

Coordinates 4

Instructions 1

Instructions 2

Instructions 3

Prologue Instructions

2008 USARA Nationals Website

USARA Nationals

2008 USARA Nationals Results

• Placed 29th in co-ed division (35th overall) with 22 CPs and a time of 29:14:59
• All Results
• Splits

2008 USARA Nationals Reviews

Joanna's Take

When I competed in my first adventure race a year and a half ago, I never expected to be competing in Nationals against some of the nation’s top teams so soon, but I was lucky to find a strong, ambitious team to race with right off the bat, and soon found myself standing at the starting line of this grueling trial. I expected the USARA Nationals to be a very challenging course, but there were definitely some unanticipated challenges that we encountered as well. Standing alone, the course was tough, but throw in the chilly weather, the constant dampness, and an arduous pace, and the course became a formidable one.

No 30 hour adventure race is complete without making sure the racers start off already sleep deprived. While we had a 7 am start time, we were told it was highly necessary for us to be at the park in downtown Blue Ridge at 5:45 am race morning, so after a long night of plotting and packing we were able to get in about 4 hours of sleep before the early start. The previous night we had left our bikes at the bike drop in Thunder Rock Campground Tennessee, so we knew where we would be picking up our bikes. We also had the coordinates for the canoe take out and drop off, but we still had no idea where we would be putting in for the canoe. We could only assume that we would somehow be shuttled to the start. We were right, but as for the mode of transportation, we could never have guessed. That was because we were shuttled to the race start from downtown Blue Ridge on the Santa Express train, Santa Claus included.

As we were boarding the train we were given the coordinates and details for the prologue, which Josh quickly plotted as the train crawled towards the start location. The sun was just starting to rise when we reached the starting line and when the gun went off everyone dashed towards the first prologue CP. Since this was my first unsupported 30 hour race, my bag was stuffed heavily with everything I thought I might need, so I had a tough time keeping up the guys at first due to the extra weight on my back. I finally latched onto Josh’s tow line and let him drag me around as we ran from point to point all the way to the canoe put in. No adventure race is complete without making sure the racers have soggy feet from the get-go, so the put in was on the other side of the frigid river. We had to dodge canoes coming at us as we crossed, and then made other racers dodge us as we paddled out.

We had decided that I would sit in the middle for the paddle, so Josh and Jordan had to listen to me complain about the icy bilge water collecting around my legs and butt for most of the paddle. We chose not to bring along double paddles since we felt we would lose more time on the trek with them on our backs than we would gain using them on the paddle, so we patiently watched as the teams who had chosen otherwise zoomed past us. Other than getting caught up in a few rocks here and there, the paddle was pretty uneventful until we reached the take out. At this point, we had to portage the canoe about 1K to the canoe drop (CP2). With your average canoe, this wouldn’t be too much of an issue, but the canoes provided by race management felt about 10 times as heavy as your average canoe (ok, slight exaggeration, but the thing was pretty darn heavy). Josh and Jordan carried it for a bit while I carried the gear, then Josh and I traded off at which point Jordan and I decided it would be easier to flip the canoe over and carry it on our shoulders. For the first couple hundred meters, this felt pretty easy, but in the end, I have no idea how I made it the whole way without dropping the canoe and having my neck broken off with it.

At CP2 we started a long trek to the bike drop (CP3). On the way to CP3 the forecasted rain started to fall and all of my hopes for dry socks went out the window. The ride to CP4 began with a long climb up some single track, and this is about the point where my memory starts to get a little blurry. After the single track there were several long climbs on forest service roads which Josh graciously helped me get through via the tow system. Since the tow required me to ride directly behind Josh, all I could see was the barrage of mud & grit flying at my face for most of this bike leg and by the time we arrived at CP8, I had a complete mud facial treatment in progress.

From CP8 we departed for the next trekking leg which was a loop for CP9 – CP12 which we could obtain in any order. We chose to work backwards, starting with CP12, and after a lot of confusion regarding a trail which ran SE, we ended up bushwhacking directly uphill to Mule Top. When we thought we had reached the top, we began searching all over for the CP, but as night and fog quickly set in, we still hadn’t found it. Finally, Jordan realized that we were at a false peak, at which point he and Josh quickly located CP12. From here, we followed the ridgeline to FS22, got CP11, CP10, and continued down the trail to find CP9. Since both CP10 and CP9 were on private property, the instructions stated that there was pink tape leading from CP9 to CP10 to prevent racers from entering the wrong private land. Since we were allowed to obtain the CP’s in any order, we assumed that the pink tape should easily be followed from either direction. We soon realized we were wrong when we lost the trail of pink tape and ended up in someone’s back yard, while in the background a nearby dog was frantically barking at us. At this point we had another team with us, so we quickly moved to the road and followed the road to CP9. As we reached the CP, we heard two shotgun blasts and no more dog. I could only hope that neither the dog nor another racer had been shot by an angry neighbor.

At this point, the cold, wet weather was beginning to settle in and we just had to concentrate on staying focused and moving forward. We returned to the bike drop and continued on to CP14 where we found a large, warm campfire inviting us to forget about the race and seek comfort. I was attempting to warm my numb feet before changing into some dry socks, but Josh quickly diverted me away from the distraction of the fire and ushered us out onto the trek. It didn’t take long for my last pair of dry socks to become drenched again and I finally accepted the fact that I would be unable to feel my feet for the rest of the race, which was probably a good thing.

After a couple of false calls at some mini waterfalls, we found the real waterfall where CP15 was, although it was located on the other side of the river from where it was plotted. One the way to CP16, a local dog who had snuck up on Josh in the dark joined our team and accompanied us to the CP. The only other part of this leg that I remember was how the temperature drastically dropped and the chilly breeze picked up as we worked our way up to CP17. At this point I was starting to get worried about my hydration level since I still hadn’t finished my original water bladder and what little liquid I had consumed was going straight through me. I was also feeling a bit dizzy and was beginning to realize that I wasn’t consuming as much nutrition as I should have been, but I was too cold and too focused to stop and take anything out.

After obtaining CP17 we returned to the huge campfire to claim our bikes, at which point I decided to take advantage of the warmth, dry my socks and gloves, and finally get some food in my stomach. We spent a little longer at this transition than any of the others, but I was still unable to get adequate nutrition into my system since I was still dizzy on the way out. Biking out, Josh hooked me back up on the tow, and I did my best to keep pedaling but the sleep monsters were starting to attack pretty frantically. I’m not sure what time it was, but my front bike light had died, leaving me with only my puny headlamp. I kept zoning out staring at the dim light in front of me, and the dizziness just kept increasing. To make matters worse, I had twisted my ankle just after the canoe portage earlier and I was finally starting to feel it. I was still able to pedal without too much pain, but walking was almost impossible. There were a lot of things going through my head at this point, and I can definitely say that it was the hardest time I’ve ever had during a race to mentally and emotionally remain focused, but I finally pulled myself together and hit my second wind.

At this point we were on our way to CP20. We encountered a team who told us another team had spent 4 hours looking for the trail to this CP and they were giving up to go back to the campfire. We were most certainly not going back to the campfire, but after some scouting out of the surrounding trails, we realized it was going to be tough to find this one since the instructions said it was blocked by Forest Service. While Jordan and Josh were trying to determine a plan B, I began scouting the area and found what had potential to be the blocked trail, but I was still slightly delirious and half conscious at this point, so I didn’t exactly make it clear to the guys that I may have found the trail we were looking for. I agreed to their plan B which involved taking another nearby trail out and around in order to make sure we were able to finish in time. The map indicated that the trail we had chosen should start taking us NE, but after awhile we realized it hadn’t taken this turn and was continuing SW. We turned around until we reached a reentrant where we decided to attempt bushwhacking down to a different trail. With our bikes in hand, we began working our way down a steep hill, throwing our bikes over logs, dragging them through briars and around bushes until an hour later when we realized the trail was nowhere to be found. At this point, there was no going back since the hill was too steep to climb with our bikes, so we just continued in the direction we needed to eventually be. When the guys started hallucinating imaginary bridges, I knew we were in trouble.

After a closer examination of the map, Josh was able to roughly determine our location and we decided to continue NE in search of the trail. After about 3 hours of bike whacking, we found it, but the problem was that Forest Service had laid down about 20 mounds of dirt and trees to prevent those really stubborn 4 wheelers from riding on it, so we were subjected to a few more hundred meters of bush whacking until we could finally ride. By this time, my trekking legs were shot and I was ready to ride, so we flew down this forest service road, crossing over several creeks on our way to the finish. For the first time in hours we saw other racers and a CP, and to my dismay, the trail became unridable and we had to hike a bike some more. After we pushed our bikes up an incredibly steep climb, we finally hit smooth roads again and started pushing as hard as we could to get back in time. Fortunately for us, most of the way back was all downhill from this point until we were almost to CP29 - this was where we were required to ride along the RR tracks for a few miles. After over a full day of battling numb feet, soggy socks, frigid temperatures, and mental confusion, this was the most uncomfortable part of the entire race. I absolutely could not ride my hard tail bike down the RR ties without screaming in pain and when I would get off my bike to run with it down the tracks, my ankle kept threatening to give out from under me. There was a thin gravel line down the side of the rail, but it could only be ridden about 50% of the time, so the other 50% I was subjected to simply walking my bike down the rail line. It was a nice touch that we began and finished the race on the RR tracks - especially when most races forbid you from travelling on the tracks – but it was most certainly something I will never want to do again.

We rode into town and crossed the finish line with 45 minutes to spare and mud still all over my face. The first thing I did was yank my shoes off my feet, which was pretty tough to do since they had swollen up so much over the course of the race.

All in all, it was a fantastic race. It was the kind of race that you refer back to during future races to remind yourself that you’re capable of surviving even the toughest of challenges. I just consider myself lucky enough to have had a great pair of teammates who helped me get through the race and the ensuing challenges, because that’s the most important asset to have when you’re out there on the course. Now that I’ve had the opportunity to pinpoint my weaknesses and the areas which need the most improvement, I’m really looking forward to next year and the next tough race so that I can prove to myself what my team and I are capable of.

Jordan's Take

Josh's Take

In September this year Team MOAT (Mother Of All Teams) lost their captain David Boyd in a hiking accident when he fell off a fatal exposure by accident during training. This year, before the race, we took a moment of silence and patches were given out with his initials on them for the competitors to carry if they opted to do so in his spirit. They were to be given back later to honor his family and friends. People do all sorts of things to honor the memory of loved ones, and I'm happy to be involved in a sport that really is built on relationships that go beyond the race. There is something about going through that much suffering with others that puts our relationship with our teammates and competitors into perspective. I had only known of Dave Boyd as a name (since he was the captain of the well-known Team MOAT), and generally, I'm the type of personality that could care less. But both on the day it was announced he was found dead and at the pre-race briefing when we were taking our moment of silence, I admit I got pretty emotional. I know what it takes to get through one of these races and I can only imagine what it takes to endure to the point of being the best in the nation. For that, I have a huge respect and appreciation for race management for honoring his accomplishments, the drive behind them, and the character that is required to fuel that drive.

We came into Nationals knowing that the breadth and depth of the competition would be at their max and we were not let down. 91 teams qualified and toed the starting line, representing roughly half the states of the United States. I was excited to find that I was elbow to elbow with the likes of Dart-Nuun, EMS, ATP, and WEDALI--teams whose performances I look at and scratch my head. Though we qualified last year, this was our first showing at the USARA National Championship, and it was a very unique experience to race against that many good teams all at the same time.

The race began with a shuttle to the starting line...in Tennessee. This was truly unexpected, for a number of reasons:

1. Ron Zadroga, the race director of the Blue Ridge Adventure Race 2007 | 2008, has plenty of USFS land south of Lake Blue Ridge.
2. The land would require 1 permit, from the USFS, so way less headache.
3. I suspect that because of the above 2 reasons, the Blue Ridge Adventure Race has taken place south of Lake Blue Ridge, where Ron and staff would be familiar with the land.

Despite all the administrative challenges I'm sure it created for race management (many permits, many state/local authority coordination, etc), it minimized a huge advantage from which local racers would have benefited. This was encouraging, as the local advantage has been an race-upsetting factor in the past with the Blue Ridge Adventure Race.

The pre-race shuttle to the start was by train, on the Blue Ridge Scenic Railway. We were given coordinates for the prologue on the train, where we quickly plotted them and decided our path. There were 3 trekking CPs, which could be achieved in any order, but whose logical path ended at the other side of the river from the canoe put-in. This meant crossing the 40 degree river in the morning. Our feet would be wet for the remainder of the race.

We opted not to carry our own kayak paddles for the entirety of the race, instead using the single-blade paddles that we could drop at the canoe take-out when we were finished using them. Knowing how encumbering carrying double paddles in the southeast mountains can be--with the entangling briers and rhododendron. We were reassured to find that our decision was the right one when we found that the Ocoee was at low levels and was more of a push/paddle canoe section (note: very frustrating), rather than a open-water boat race. We were disadvantaged toward the end, where the river broadened into more of a lake, but it was not a long portion. We did manage to train once with single-blade paddles before the race, but it was not until halfway into the paddle that we found a good sync. I managed to sustain a couple of ankle injures during some of the drag-a-canoe section

The 1000 meter canoe portage was a tough one that winded through a narrow path in the trees. When my arms, fatigued from the paddle, were giving out, Joanna shouldered the canoe with Jordan, while I slung everybody's packs over my shoulder and carried the paddles.

From there, we ran along various trails along the Ocoee. Because the dam-released water flow was cut off or very low, the riverbed, laden with upstream-leaning rocks, was a very cool sight to behold. Ending the trekking section at the Thunder Rock campground just below a hydroelectric plant, we quickly transitioned to bikes and continued up 400ft over one mile to CP4. From there, it was a 25km bike to CP5.

It was at CP5 that we assess our situation. We believed that we'd be more effective on foot than on bike, so we opted to skip CPs 6 & 7. Prerace, we had deliberated where the trail head to get to the horse trail going to these was. There was no indication on the map, and we only had assumptions of where the trail would logically be based on terrain. We took Tumbling Creek Road southwest to CP8, were we transitioned to the second foot section of the race, fatigued from the long biking section.

Our first task on foot was avoiding cougars:

The second task was climbing 700 feet over 1 kilometer to the Mule Top. After some deliberation on the approach, we reached this top in a cloud during the night. We shot a bearing and descended the tongue and ridge sline to the northeast and then bushwhacked southeast to hit the road to CP11. Went on to CP10, overshot it by 500 meters due to misreading the map's pre-caculated distance, then followed a trail up to the CP9. The trail up was supposed to be marked, but was sparsely so. There was also pink and blue flagging in places that were NOT the mandatory route up. We were a bit upset by this confusion, but knowing Ron's style, these sorts of surprises are inevitable. A note on this portion: As we were heading back to the TA to get back on our bikes, we heard two shotgun blasts in the distance. Curiously, a dog had been barking for quite a while and annoying the crap out of me was barking no more. Wonderful silence. Race staff later told us that gunshots at odd hours are common in these parts.

Hopping on our bikes, it was time to head south to the next trekking section. We tried to stay focused on traveling efficiently and keeping warm, and we made it to the campground ready to put on some of our stashed dry clothes. It was cool to see Jack riding around on his bike helping out race management with team updates.

Down at the campground, we ditched our bikes and prepared to get cold during the hike. Our plan was to hit the first two checkpoints (CP15/16) and then get CP17 either by bushwhack or by returning past campground and going up to it. We had a small blip at CP15 then found it after our initially searched waterfall was a bit small. CP16 took a while to get to and during this trek I started to drift a bit. Suddenly, I heard a loud and deep breathing behind me that caused my butt cheeks to tighten up. I thought to myself, "if I turn around does that make it real!?" I was drowsy and my mind was playing small tricks on me, but I certainly was hearing this, and it wasn't a person. After 4-5 unwise seconds of trying to ignore it away, I forced myself to turn around, prepared to be eaten by a bear or slain by an axe murderer. There behind us was a black lab. A big sigh of relief ensued, as the remains of my body would not have to be turned over to my family later. We punched CP16, decided not to bushwhack because of the uncertainty of the trails at that point (not many on the map but a lot out there). We then marched with the dog up to CP17, which for me was the turning point of the night, where mentally we were headed to sunrise. Trying not to kill our knees on the downhill and enjoying our 4-legged companion (who managed to stay with us and other teams for 3.5 hours during this trek), we made our way back down to the campsite for our final transition.

We took a while to transition to bike, but we had a lot to do, so it was forgivable. Joanna was unfortunately the last to be ready so she had to tolerate the baiting of two impatient teammates. We jumped on the bikes and started the grueling climb up to CP19. From here, we realized that we had a lot of distance to travel in less time than we had hoped for and were looking to minimize our route back to ensure we made the cutoff. We immediately ruled out CP21 and CP22 as they were directly out of the way. We had roughly an hour for each CP remaining, and we needed to figure out how to straighten out the path to the finish a bit. Here's where it got interesting. We elected to skip CPs 23, 24, and 25 by bypassing them to the south and heading to CP27 via some 4-wheeler trails. Well, we unfortunately overshot the trail headed down the hill and decided to bikewhack down to it until we hit it.

Unfortunately, we overshot it...a lot. The bikewhack probably cost us two hours, and definitely a lot of morale. I was devastated by the navigational error, thinking that we could no longer make the cutoff. Jordan led the downhill attack as we pushed, dragged, carried, and forced our bikes through the pricker briers and mountain rhododendron down and around the contours, bearing northeast the entire time hoping to eventually drop into the place where the supposed trail ran alongside the river. We headed over several tongues, expecting each one to be our last, but there always seemed to be another. Alas, we found a carving in a tree that read:

Whit Loves Laura

This lifted our spirits, as Laura has a north Georgian secret admirer, and it signaled that we were close to some kind of trail. We found out that we were--the trail from hell. We got on the trail, thinking that our bikewhack was over. I was thinking at this point that our race was over, but I was mentally committed to hoping that we could make the cutoff, and trying to do so. The good thing about hope is that it dies hard.

Our bikewhack was not over. Apparently a property owner in the area did not like the 4-wheelers on the double track and decided to discourage them and anybody else from traveling it. There were cut down trees, 5-foot tall earthen embankments, barbed wire, and scum-filled moats to contend with. After 5 or 6 obstacles, we opted to bikewhack parallel to it. 200 or so meters later, we veered back to it to find the gauntlet over with, and continued a joyful ride down Fightingtown Creek. This took us relatively quickly to CP27. We still don't know if there was actually a trail that went down the mountain, only that we found the one to which it connected at the base.

At CP27, we linked up with team Checkpoint Zero, and pushed our bikes up to CP26. We were pleased to match their pace at this point in the race, knowing that they were tired from going 30% faster than us at all previous portions of the race. The ride down to Bushy Head Gap was extremely fast, so fast that going around a corner with Joanna on tow, my towing system tore off my bike (from the centripetal force). We stopped and quickly packed it up, and continued to final, all-road portion of the race. We made our way to the fire station at CP28 and then on to the railroad tracks at CP29. Between CP28 and CP29, my knee flared up like it did at the Fool's Gold 100, from overuse, and so did Jordan's. That was a very painful section, though we kept the pace fast, knowing that we needed every bit of time we could get. Realizing that we'd be riding on the railroad tracks per the instructions rather than the expected beside the railroad tracks was a tough conclusion to come upon. We really sucked on this section, going to a strategy of just trying to protect our position as we got passed by Chris and Michelle's team--of OME (2007|2008) fame--and had another on our heels. We managed to hold off the other team as we rolled into the finish, butts chafed from the long ride and the bumpy finale, in high spirits for making the cutoff after all.

Summary:

The race was a summation of Team ROC Gear/4LPH4 1337's progress over the last two years. We started out as a fledgling team in 2007 and grew to be a competitive, but still inexperienced, team by the end of it. Starting out in 2008, our team was on the verge of being dissolved due to injuries and family commitments. We struggled through it, racing along the way, and became a team that is both experienced and hungry. Entering the USARA National Championships with our 3 most experienced members, we were confident and eager to race against some of the country's best adventure racers.

We were not disappointed. We found ourselves in the middle of the pack the majority of the race--a position that we are proud to say have been able to stay ahead of consistently in the recent past. Not so with this crowd, however, as the competitors were well aware of both the level of competition and the stakes on the line. They were dialed in and tuned up.

Knowing this, we ourselves pushed harder than we have ever pushed at a race before, all the while keeping our heads in the race--knowing our strengths and weaknesses and strategizing around them. We overcame a major trial--one that tested both our mental resolve and team-worthiness--and pressed on to the finish line, our finish line, with an avalanche's willpower.

It was not until the next morning, as I laid in a Jacuzzi for two hours on the balcony of our lake cabin and watched the sun rise over the mountains to slowly route the mists hovering above the mirrored waters of Lake Blue Ridge--it was not until those glorious rays of light, breaking the dismal night anew touched my face that I realized what was accomplished in this race. Not only was it the longest race I had done, but it was the most difficult. Yet the challenge was met without flinching--with that matter-of-fact attitude that only comes from experience. I realized that the confidence that we had built over the past two years in the team and our inability to give up--no matter what--were what enabled the us to approach the course with such spirit.

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