Thu, Dec 04, 2008
Photos courtesy of Team Ruination, Team Tubac and Team Chupacabra; Illustration by Sara Stewart / Arizona Daily Star
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Accent

Adventure racing

Tucsonans taking part in sport that requires agility, navigating
By Jennifer Duffy
Arizona Daily Star
Tucson, Arizona | Published: 11.19.2006
In the pre-dawn hours on a miserable day in October, Brad and Yvonne Poe bombed downhill on mountain bikes face-first into the wind and sleet.
They were caked in mud, tired and beaten up by the harsh weather.
"They were calling it Utah's perfect storm — the 100-year flood," Brad said of the weather that day.
Hours before their downhill ride they had biked in the dark, with the help of expensive bike lights, from the red, slick rocks near the Colorado River up to about 8,000 feet elevation. From there the Tubac couple hiked up to 11,000 feet and found snow.
It was dark and rainy at 4:30 a.m., and they'd been going since 7 p.m. the day before.
The sheets of rain still were coming down relentlessly just after dawn, when the Poes hopped in an inflatable boat to paddle 26 miles down the Colorado River, heading south by southwest to a beach on the river about 15 miles outside Moab.
As they paddled, they watched the 100-foot cliffs on either side of them give birth to magnificent waterfalls. Big boulders occasionally barreled down, crashing into the water around them.
The Poes peered up from the river in awe and worried that Tucsonans Jane Larkindale and Jim Holmes, members of Team Adventure Racing Concepts.com, might be having a rough time up ahead.
Welcome to adventure racing — where the perils of rain, sleet, snow and rough terrain are a test of the participants' navigating, mountain biking, rappelling, running and paddling skills — but no match for their patience, strategy and sheer determination to make it across the finish line.
In this sport, participants travel for miles through a series of checkpoints, using a variety of transportation methods. The adventurers aren't given the course map until race day, and they plot coordinates for checkpoints and navigate their way with compasses and topography maps.
"It was pouring rain, and besides being tired as we paddled, I just kept thinking, 'This is the opportunity of a lifetime,' " said Brad, a 50-year-old pharmacist at St. Mary's Hospital and amateur adventure racer.
As he and Yvonne made their way down the river, they heard what sounded like a train — except it was water. They figured the wash in the canyon they would have to hike next was becoming a river.
It was.
"It looked like chocolate milk with bowling-ball-size boulders in it," said Holmes, 37,who had finished the paddling portion with Team Adventure Racing Concepts.com ahead of the Poes and was wading through rising water with his teammate and girlfriend, Larkindale.
The water in the canyon was knee- to waist-high, and they knew the course eventually would be shut down.
Larkindale, a 31-year-old New Zealand native, was psyched about the challenging weather.
As she and her teammates formed human chains to pass people and bikes across the rising water, she thought something along the lines of, "Excellent. They'll close the course behind us and we have a good start, and even if they don't close the course, most people won't cross this."
"Had we encountered this on a rescue mission, we would have rigged lines and used life vests," said Holmes, who met Larkindale and their occasional teammate, Gerry Bach, as members of the Southern Arizona Rescue Association.
The pair had faced similar and even far worse conditions on rescue missions, but in those times the stakes were high: Another person's life was at risk. When they're out on an adventure course, their own well-being is their only concern, and the test of their skills and determination often leads to a pure adrenaline rush.
"Adventure racers are weird people," Brad Poe said. "The worse the conditions get, the more fun we have."
Eventually, Larkindale, Holmes and their two teammates from Phoenix and Flagstaff made it out of the canyon and headed out on their bicycles.
The Poes, racing as a two-person team, finished their 26-mile paddle and rappelled down wet, slick rock through one of Southern Utah's majestic arches, then napped in an outhouse before heading out on their bikes, munching on espresso beans to stay awake.
After about 36 hours, the race was called off and organizers started pulling teams off the course. The weather had gotten too rough.
None of the teams in the 2006 Xstream Expedition had a chance to make it to the finish line, but that doesn't mean they didn't have a good time.
"I was half-delighted, but my other half wanted to know if I could finish the whole 72 hours," said Larkindale, a postdoctorate researcher in the University of Arizona's department of biochemistry and molecular biophysics. Team Adventure Racing Concepts.com was pulled off the course in fifth place, out of 23 four-person teams.
Larkindale and Holmes are eager to do it again next year, and so are the Poes, who, as Team Tubac, were ranked second out of three coed, two-person teams.
"It was such a rush," Brad said.
Images of 300-mile races that take three days to complete and buff, Lycra-clad participants can make adventure racing seem intimidating, Holmes said.
But it's a chance for people who love the outdoors — and a mental challenge — to test their limits.
"It's not just legs and lungs. It's brains as well," Holmes said. "Navigation can give you a real advantage."
Larkindale, Holmes and Bach, who race together as Team Ruination, aren't competitive or expert runners, climbers, paddlers or mountain bikers, although they each have strengths in different areas.
But they're all adept at navigation — a key component to adventure racing — and they plot their coordinates and choose their routes together.
The trio often saves time by taking a shortcut, rather than running or biking faster than another team.
The Poes began doing short adventure races after joining the Tucson Orienteering Club, where they honed skills like reading a topography map, using a compass and plotting coordinates.
"It's the best way to get started," Poe said, "because you can be the fastest runner, but you'll blow right past the checkpoint if you can't navigate."
"If you can do an orienteering course, you can do an adventure race," said Rick Eastman, a former Phoenix stockbroker who owns Sierra Adventure Sports and puts on races in Arizona but now lives in California.
Not all the races are anything like the hundreds of miles trekked in the Xstream Expedition or the shows we see on television, including "Primal Quest," and its predecessor, "Eco-Challenge," that award hefty purses for top finishers. Sierra Adventure Sports' races in Arizona, for example, are all under 12 hours.
Many of these shorter races feature obstacle courses or mental challenges in the transition areas, where teams must complete a puzzle or a task before they can move on to a leg of biking or running.
"We call them stupid tasks," Larkindale said, "but sometimes they're really challenging."
Her teammate, Bach, 57, recalls one race in which they had barreled downhill on bikes and at the bottom were asked to twist combinations into locks.
"With blood rushing through your body, it's hard to focus. It wasn't easy," said Bach, a law firm administrator.
Another key component, in any size adventure race, is cooperation and strategy.
Yvonne, 39, and Brad once raced on a team with a couple of guys who yelled and screamed at them. They didn't do very well.
"Team dynamic is so important," Brad said. In fact, when one teammate is slow in a certain event, the other teammates tow the person behind them, whether they're on bikes, running or even boating. "Because you're only as strong as your weakest member," he explained.
The Poes have encouraged several inactive and inexperienced friends to try shorter events to experience the thrill of the race, the pride of the accomplishment and the joy of the team bonding.
"It's the best camaraderie," he said.
Aaron Pratt, 34, and Rick Medina, 33, are Team Chupacabra, and they get along famously. The teammates bonded during business hours — they did business together at first and now both work for Intuit.
As Team Chupacabra, they travel to races and hope to head to Costa Rica for an event next year.
"We get along darn well," Pratt said.
"We're very agreeable, which is an advantage, but not such an advantage overall. Sometimes you have to disagree and create a little conflict to get the best ideas on the table," Pratt said. "We spend our free time arguing on purpose."
Pratt's wife, Sue, and Medina's girlfriend, Anabel Vasquez, have even bonded while spending so much time at races together, waiting for the men to come back.
They don't do adventure racing, but they get just as excited about it.
"I wouldn't say it's scary that they're doing these races, but it's just about making sure they're prepared," Sue said.
In fact, gear and training are big keys to safety.
"Nobody should get themselves involved in something they're not prepared for, or something they can't handle," said Eastman, who's never had a race participant with any injury worse than a sprained ankle or a concussion, although many adventure racers retell the story of Australian racer Nigel Aylott's death in the 2004 Primal Quest held in Washington state's San Juan Islands. A boulder came loose as his team was coming down a rocky area and it struck him.
"It's sad, but that's a rare, freak occurrence. These things happen to regular people out hiking just as often as they do to adventure racers," Eastman said. "There's actually a low number of deaths, and even though people consider this an extreme sport, it isn't."
Racers like Yvonne Poe train in hiking, running and cycling and become certified rock climbers to ensure their safety during races.
Yvonne, a "semi-sofa spud" before she began racing three years ago, runs and cycles at night using expensive lights as part of her training.
She's embraced the physical challenges and all the gear to be able to compete and excel in adventure races. She loves it so much she's formed an all-women team, too.
"I couldn't ride three miles on a flat on my bike without having to get off," she said, "And now I ride 50 miles up and down hills."
She and Brad have invested in loads of gear, including hydration systems, lighting systems, kayaks, mountain bikes, special clothes, paddles and survival kits containing mirrors, space blankets, whistles, knives and spare bike tubes.
A beginning adventure racer can get into the sport by spending about $2,000 for gear, Brad said, but many people spend a lot more.
"Our shed looks like Summit Hut exploded," Brad said. "And some of it is in our living room, including a bike on a bike trainer," Yvonne later added.
"You have to have the trainer in case the weather's too bad to go outside," said Yvonne.
Because a little weather isn't going to get in the way of any of these adventure racers, or their training.
Team Ruination
Began racing together about two years ago.
Gerry Bach, 57.
Occupation: Law firm administrator.
Jane Larkindale, 31.
Occupation: Postdoctoral researcher at the University of Arizona's department of biochemistry and molecular biophysics.
Jim Holmes, 37.
Occupation: Transportation engineer.
Team Tubac
Began racing 3 years ago.
Yvonne Poe, 39.
Occupation: Microbiologist at Holy Cross Hospital in Nogales, Ariz.
Brad Poe, 50.
Occupation: Pharmacist at St. Mary's Hospital.
Team Chupacabra
Began racing one year ago.
Aaron Pratt, 34.
Occupation: Global performance manager at Intuit.
Rick Medina, 33.
Occupation: Sales coach at Intuit.
● Contact reporter Jennifer Duffy at 573-4357 or at jduffy@azstarnet.com.