Team Blog

The Checkpoint Challenge Experience - Team Omega 1337

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-06-25T12:36:12-07:00

Team Checkpoint Zero / Inov-8 Omega 1337 consisited of mentor Jon Barker and team mates Jamie Frazier and Greg Schnapp. Our mandated first leg was on the bike then we decided to paddle then trek. Jamie navigated on the bike and trek and Greg navigated on the paddle. The team experienced very few problems and worked their way steadily around the course. We had decided ahead of race start which points we would and would not try for during the legs and stuck to this very successfully until the last, trek leg when we only had an hour left to find the mandatory two points. We found our first point (T15) on the small island with no trouble then headed north to T16 which proved too tricky for us and after looking for 15 minutes pushed on to T12 with another bearing bushwack but, again, we were unsuccessful in locating this point. With time fast running out we took off at a near sprint for T1. Fortunately we had more success and picked this one up cleanly then took off for the finish line with about eight minutes to go. We finished within the five hours time limit with about 30 seconds to spare. I believe we picked up about 20 points.

Well done to Jamie & Greg for hanging tough on a scorching hot day and getting the job done!

Jon

Wild and Wonderful West Virginia

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-06-04T12:12:03-07:00

Last year's edition of the Wild Wonderful was a tough battle against Berlin Bike and EMS, but in the end we had come out on top. Subseqently, heading into the race this year the team had high hopes for another good finish.

Unique to this race, is the guided white water rafting segment which features two four person teams paired up in the same raft working together to get down the river as fast as possible. This was the third time that we have done this paddle leg in three different races, and for whatever reason, we always seem to get a slow boat, this time was no exception. Nevertheless, we soldiered on, knowing we'd have plenty of time to catch up later on.

After the paddle, we had a quick run up and out of the New River Gorge to our bikes. No Odyssey race would be complete without lots of elevation, and once on bike we were sent via old coal mine trails back down into the gorge. If one took the time to sight see along the white knuckle ride you got beautiful views of the lush greenery and sheer rock walls that make this area of the country so beautiful.

Dismounting the bikes, we set out on for for the meat of this course. A long foot rogain section. Before the race, we had asked the race director if the course was clearable, and the response was "one or two teams" might clear it. We figured we had a good shot at it and plotted out a route that would take us to all the points. We were taking a bit of a risk in that if we ran into time constraints, we didn't really have a good exit strategy.

As we started knocking off the points one by one, it seems as though we might beat our own expectations and get it done early. As we have come to learn, that's rarely the case. As darkness fell, we started to have problems finding some of the points. After giving up on one, we bumped into Berlin Bike and swapped tales of our adventures. We decided to give it one more combined effort, in the hopes that eight pairs of eyes would make the job easier. Fortunately, that's all it took and I marched right to the point. We had similar luck on one of the last points. We had given up and were on our way out of the woods when we came across the flag. I was fairly sure it wasn't where it was plotted on the map, but at that point I wasn't going to argue beacuse we needed to get out of there.

Getting close to our self imposed time limit, we started to descend off the plateau back to the river to get on our bikes. What should have been a short hike down, turned into an hour plus long slog down a creek. Just before we hit the road we happened upon a two man team that was looking rather defeated. When they saw us, they commented on how fast we were moving. I told them we weren't going to miss any cutoff and they were welcome to follow us out. I think the prospect of running down this creek was a little too much and they resigned themselves to missing the cutoff.

As we finally made it back to the transition area, we quickly jumped on our bikes and started the long road ride back to the finish. It's a tough thing to be under the gun for a time limit, but be at the darkest, hardest time of the race. I always have a hard time staying awake around 3 AM and from the wavering lines being ridden by my teammates, I knew they were sleepy as well. Digging into my pack I pulled out the caffeine and we all took the equivalent of 4 cups of coffee in a couple seconds and waited for it to kick in.

As the chemical rush started, we started passing teams and shouting encouragement as we went along. I envisioned a large Tour de France style peloton cruising to the finish, but many of our competitors didn't have the enthusiasm we did. As day broke, we came screaming into the last transition area 20 minutes before the time limit. Knowing we were safe was a huge boost, as we knew it was a short run to the finish line.

Although we were fairly confident that we were the only team to collect all the points on the course, you really aren't sure until you cross the finish line. When we did, we were pleased to learn that we were the only team to get them all, which meant a first place finish.

Relieved and exhausted, we spent the rest of the morning gorging ourselves on the wonderful feast put out for us by the race, and spent some well deserved time napping in the cool shade of some local trees before getting in the car and driving home.

More photos of our adventure can be seen here.

Sailing? In an adventure race?

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-05-19T14:36:40-07:00

As you may recall, two years ago in the top secret R&D lab of Team Checkpoint Zero we developed a sailing apparatus for the last edition of the MIX. Unfortunately, that race didn't have us on any open water with any wind, so the sails sat unused in our gear boxes for the entire race, and the next two years.

This year, with the MIX back on the schedule, the prospect of sailing once again became a possibility. The first leg of the race this year was a long lake section which would provide ample opportunity to test out our unproven equipment.

I am happy to report that the sails worked very well, once we figured them out. When deployed in a stiff down wind breeze, one sail easily provided more power to one boat than Bo and I could provide via paddle. We easily reached the max hull speed of the plastic yellow tubs we were using. In that first paddle leg Michele got about 45 minutes of rest, all she had to do was keep the sail up.

The unfortunate part of the story was that we broke one of the sails early on in the paddle leg and had to make due with only one. It's back to the drawing board to reinforce the defective parts and next time we'll carry a spare.

Watch for the tri-color Checkpoint Zero sails at the next race that allows them.

So what was the deal with the mushroom hunter?

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-05-19T14:21:45-07:00

If you kept up with the team at the recent Michigan Expedition race, you'd have noticed a somewhat cryptic reference to an encounter we had with a mushroom hunter. Well, now that we are back safe and sound in the south, we can speak up without fear of reprisal.

As we were trekking along in the middle of the night, a speeding truck came up to us and stopped abruptly. In the dim light we could make out a young shirtless driver who had a somewhat strange look in his eyes.

"You all looking for mushrooms?" he asks?

"Nope" we answer.

"Well, you better be careful of the brown ones, you have to boil them a while before you eat them."

At this point we were somewhat confused, as we weren't experience mushroom hunters, but further research has show that some poisonous species may be rendered safe by parboiling. But that's another story.

After this short encounter, the fellow drives off down the road and we continue on our way. Not 20 seconds later a gunshot rings out! Bo, having the greatest sense of self preservation, makes a beeline for the closest ditch and throws himself in it. Meanwhile, Paul, Michele and I look around and start to ask each other if that was a gunshot, and was he really shooting at us?

My own 2 days with no sleep middle of the night race rationalization was that any person in a vehicle moving away from a target at 400 yards had pretty much no chance of hitting it. What was there to fear? As I thought this, we heard about 6 more shots, although these were farther away, and of even less concern to my tired and confused mind.

We just hoped there wasn't a team that close behind us. Luckily, there wasn't. One thing I can tell you, we certainly got a little quickness back in our step and we weren't sleepy for several more hours.

The most amazing thing we saw on our drive ...

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-05-12T13:44:40-07:00

It's 62' high, weighs 16,000 pounds, took 8,000 man hours to design and install. What is it .... You'll have to click the link.

Maps, maps, maps ...

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-05-12T13:36:24-07:00

The pre-race meeting is over, now we're pouring over the maps. Peter and I did most of the plotting last night, so now we're working on routes.

Michele and Bo made it in to Traverse City alright, though poor Michele had to take THREE flights to get here.

The course looks to be true to the race name, with a real mix of trekking, paddling and biking, which the race directors says includes the best single track in Michigan.

Less than 16 hours before the race starts!

- Paul

Got the MIX maps

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-05-11T21:05:45-07:00

We've plotted the 40+ points we've been given so far, but we don't have the directions yet. We'll get those at the pre-race meeting tomorrow at 1 p.m.

Until then, we'll just be taking some good guesses at how the race will flow. But ... it does look like we'll be paddling right past my brother-in-law's cabin on beautiful Lake Bellaire, through Clam Lake and to the small town of Alden on Torch Lake. I've paddled that portion before and it's very picturesque.

More tomorrow ... Peter and I are going to get some sleep and we'll pick up Michele and Bo at the airport tomorrow.

- Paul

On the road again

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-05-11T14:22:54-07:00

Paul and I are well on our way to Traverse City, location of the 2009 MIX adventure race. Apparently our 2007 experiences with mosquitoes, rocky streams, and sandy roads weren't enough to keep us away. What do they say? Time heals all wounds? If it does, we're about to spend a lot of time and effort reopening some of those painful memories.

Along the way we've been suffering a distinct lack of quality radio. We especially feel for the citizens of Lexington KY. There are about 4 stations, and the one we caught blasted us with the following lineup:

Cher
Some american idol alumni
Wham
George Michael (a bit redundant eh?)
Elton John
Ricky Martin

The obvious question is why did we keep listening. Well, we are dumb enough to be headed back to Michigan again aren't we?

Be sure to stop by Checkpoint Tracker starting on Wednesday and give us a shout out.

Sawyer 3 Way Water Filter - Long Term Test Report

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-05-26T13:20:17-07:00

When I first got my hands on the Sawyer 3 Way Water Filter I was somewhat skeptical if it would be practical enough to use for adventure racing. After having used one extensively for almost a year now, I wouldn't hesitate to recommend one to anyone looking for a lightweight worry free water purification system.

Hooking up the filter is trivial; you can cut your current bladder hose and insert it in line, or use the supplied tubing to connect it. Depending on your pack, you'll have to determine where in line to install it. On any of the Inov-8 Race Pro packs you'll need to attach the filter close to the bladder so it doesn't kink the hose and so it fits inside the pack.

One of the most common questions I hear when I tell people about it is "Doesn't it make it harder to drink?" and my answer is no. You need slightly more suction to take a drink, but most of the time I don't even remember it is there.

Why not just use chlorine tablets or iodine? The filter certainly weighs more than a bunch of tablets, but at 1.8 oz it isn't a lot of weight. The biggest advantage is that you can fill your bladder and drink immediately. There is no need to wait 15 minutes while the chemicals go to work on whatever might be in the water you just scooped out of a river. There is also no fumbling with nearly impossible to open foil packets or tiny tablets that spill all over the ground when you job the jar. In addition, the filter doesn't add any flavor to the water like iodine will.

One of the best things about the filter is that it can be used with your favorite drink mix or electrolyte tablets, like nuun. The instructions warn that anything added to the water must be completely dissolved, or it may clog the filter. I've run more than 5 tubes of nuun through mine without any issues.

You don't have to use the Sawyer filter with a bladder if you don't want to. On several occasions I've hooked up a hose to the filter and submerged the filter in water and used it like a filtration straw. It's a great way to travel light and fast when there are many water sources available.

-Peter

Getting our Endorphin Fix

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-04-28T07:13:31-07:00

Two of the southeast's most competitive adventure racing teams, Checkpoint Zero/Inov-8 and ROAM/Inov-8, teamed up this past weekend to take on the Odyssey Adventure Racing Endorphin Fix.

After three hundred miles of mountain biking, trekking, paddling and orienteering we came away with sore feet, swollen ankles, bruised muscles as well as 2nd and 3rd place overall, along with second place in the co-ed elite category and first in the two person male category.

About a week before the race, both Inov-8 teams were left with only 3 team members each due to last minute injuries. Seizing the opportunity to race together, we joined forces and decided that racing as a 6 person group was worth the risk.

Known for their brutally difficult courses, Odyssey once again lived up to their reputation and gave us over 300 miles of torturous terrain. We went up mountains, down mountains, across the tops of mountains, and through the valleys and rivers. Typical fare for adventure racing, spread over 80 hours.

Unlike most races that put a ropes section far enough into a race to spread teams apart, this years E-Fix had a relatively short 35 mile bike ride before the rappel. Our starting strategy was to be one of the first teams there so as not to get held up by any bottle necks. As it turned out, we hammered the first bike ride and wound up at the ropes first. We managed to get 4 of our 6 people down before ATP / Salomon showed up at the top.

Knowing they were right on our tails, and only able to send one person down at a time, our two person team of Bo and Charlie got down first and quickly set out for the paddle. There they started getting both teams bikes situated in the boats, in anticipation of the longest paddling leg.

Paddling with a bike in the boat is not high on the list of things that I want to do on a regular basis, but as it turned out that the paddle wasn't too difficult. We took on some water dropping through a series of rapids, but fared much better than the pack that was spread out for miles behind us.

As the race progressed through paddling, biking, and trekking sections, our lead over ATP/Salomon stretched and contracted depending on mode of travel. We were slower on foot, while they were slower on bike. By the middle of the second day, we had come into CP 23 together. As we took a moment to rest our feet, we watched as ATP passed us. I had a feeling we wouldn't be seeing them again.

Because of course cutoffs in place, we were fairly sure that no other teams were going to make it to the point we were at. All we had to do was make it to the finish to secure second place. It is hard to let someone pass you by, but when running around for days, even feet shod in our fantastic Inov-8 shoes needed a break. The hard part of just making it to the finish, was that it was still at least 18 hours away.

As we completed the last major trek section, we found out that one other team, Untamed New England, had made an all out effort and made the trek cutoff. Now they had a chance to catch us. Instantly, our strategy instantly switched from just getting to the finish, back into race mode. The six of us debated on the gap we had, and decided we had to go for several orienteering points at the finish, just to provide a little extra insurance.

We ended up nabbing 2 optional orienteering points, figuring that was enough of a cushion, and started the last haul up to the finish. To our amazement, Untamed New England caught and passed us about 6 miles to the finish! We panicked. Did they have more points than us? Why would they be moving faster than us? Certainly the person at the last TA would have told them how many points we had, and how far ahead we were. Not taking any chances, we pushed the pace to catch up with Untamed.

As we asked them how many points they got, we new that we couldn't trust what they said if we really wanted to keep 2nd place. What if they were tricking us?

Realizing we had no choice, we upped our pace and assaulted the last climb to the finish as best we could. After 77 hours of racing, an hour of sleep, and two hours of rest, we crossed the finish line.

Having left almost three hours on the clock, we knew that we left points out on the course, but sometimes pointless suffering must be cut short, no matter how much fun you think you might be having.

In the end, Untamed New England obtained 3 CPs less than we did, and we kept 2nd place overall.

As we all sit and nurse our feet back in the land of the living, we can only thank Inov-8 for making such wonderful shoes. It's rare for me to be able to race for 3 days and come away blister free. Now if only I had some Swiftwick compression socks like Julia has, my feet wouldn't look like overstuffed sausages right now.

-Peter

Inov-8 teams on the move!

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-04-09T16:26:31-07:00

Invariably it always happens. Teams get formed for a race, and somewhere along the line life gets in the way. Whether it's family commitments, work related, or just playing too hard, someone has to pull out. Then begins the scramble.

Last year, when putting a team together for the Planet Adventure Race, it was two days before the start before we found a final teammate to compete. Looking for teammates for a 24 hour race isn't the easiest thing, but it's a whole heck of a lot easier than finding someone who is in shape, has a flexible enough schedule, and actually wants to go out and race a 3.5 day expedition race.

First you start calling your other teammates, asking if they can get out of whatever commitment that prevented them from coming in the first place. Then you ask the people you've race with before. Then onto people you may not have raced with, but come recommended. Finally, you start asking complete strangers. One never hopes to take it that far, but with all the time and capital invested in preparing for an expedition race, you aren't as likely to walk away and just not race.

This year for the Endorphin Fix, we didn't take it completely to the wire, but it was close. Just 6 days before the start we figured out, in the words of Paul Humphreys, a Wall Street merger...AR style.

Checkpoint Zero / Inov-8 along with Team ROAM / Inov-8 have combined forces to form the feared 6 headed monster at E-Fix. We'll be fielding one co-ed team of four, and a 2 person male team with plans to race together for the duration.

There are always risks associated with combining teams and trying to stay together the whole time, but in this case we've decided the reward is worth it. To all you other teams racing E-Fix...Inov-8 is on the move!

Be sure to check out all the action on Checkpoint Tracker starting April 16th!

The Barkley 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-04-07T14:11:07-07:00

This, so called, race is best summed up by Race Director Gary Cantrell's pre-race BBQ chicken;

Burnt on the outside & frozen on the inside!

Watching Gary slather on the BBQ sauce with his bare hands and timing the cooking process by the amount of cigarettes he inhaled sent a chill down my spine. Of course it didn't stop me from eating the chicken; I mean, c'mon!

So back again. After being totally humbled last year I figured I could only learn from the experience and improve; right? Right? RIGHT?

In true Barkley fashion, Gary kept all the racers in suspense about the start time (signaled by him blowing on a conch shell one hour before the race start). The race can start any time between midnight and noon on Saturday. You never know. Gary eventually blew on the shell just before 10AM signaling a start time of 10.55AM. We'd better move fast if we wanted to complete the first loop before dark.

The course this year was the same as last year with eleven books to "find" although a couple of book placements had changed. To make sure you complete the course as instructed, Gary gives you eleven book locations and a set of written instructions. You have to copy the locations from a master map then, literally, navigate to a book, rip out your page # which is the same as your race # and at the completion of each loop, hand in to Gary all eleven pages with your race # (if you are starting a new loop, Gary gives you a new race #). Only upon him verifying that you have completed the loop are you allowed to continue. The navigation is not impossible but you have to concentrate and it gets exponentially harder in the dark. Add some exhaustion and sleep deprivation into the mix and you can see why people miss books and why pre-race scouting is so important! Oh yeah, a few examples of Gary's written instructions; "Go a long a ways", "climb down one bench", "take this trail some" are what you can expect!

The first lesson that I forgot was not to go out too fast. Up and over the first climb to the top of Bird Mountain (1600 vertical feet in about 100 yards!!!) had me tailing just Byron Backer & Carl Laniak both accomplished, fast ultra runners who had both completed three loops the year before (three loops is fondly referred to as the "Fun Run" reserved for women and children only as it is so "easy"!). This first section is all on "Candy-Ass trail" as Gary likes to call it. I find book 1 with no problem and head around to book 2, which is in a new location. After whacking through some briars to find the trail again, straight there with no problem then down to a bunch of deserted old strip mines known as the Coal Ponds. I got very "misplaced" here last year on my second loop and wanted to really figure it our better this year. This area was out of bounds for training/scouting so I was concentrating hard. I still wasn't too happy getting though it but noted a couple of points for my next loop. Up to book three, no problem then down to one of two water drops on the course and bumped into Team CP0 Captain Peter Jolles who had volunteered to crew for me and was out on the course taking photos and getting a bit of a work out.

I had got very lost on the next section, the previous year and had scouted it out pretty well a couple of weeks ago so up onto Stallion Mountain then Fykes Peak (the peak had actually been mined out so it's really Fykes crater!) then the long downhill to the New River towards book 5, picking up book 4 on the way. I was traveling in third place and got passed by a bunch of runners, led by veteran Mike Dobies on this section as it was rocky and wet underfoot and I tend to ease off a bit on this stuff to protect my dodgy ankles.

We headed up the Testicle Spectacle, which is a long, steep power line cut that just gets steeper. Then down Meth Lab hill and onto the Neo-Butt Slide to book 6 at Raw Dog Falls (don't you just love these names?). My calves and quads are seriously kicking up now and I'm starting to regret not doing more hill work; second lesson forgotten.

Up and over Dangerous Dave's climbing wall (a hand over hand scramble/slide/scramble, probably about 100ft high) and down the other side. Up a steep draw, cross the main road and then up, up, up towards the next infamous climb; Rat Jaw. This used to be a lot tougher as the saw briars were up and over your head but in recent years prisoners from one of the two jails bordering the park had cut them all down, well down to about six inches, just enough sticking up to constantly rip up your ankles and lower legs. I'm down to one eye at this point as one of my contact lenses was totally fogged up and Appalachian Trail speed record holder Andrew Thompson passed me at this point but takes the time to chat for a bit although I'm sure he couldn't understand my gasping attempt at conversation and we picked up book 7. At the top of Rat Jaw a crowd of spectators were enjoying our suffering and we hit the second water drop where someone had thoughtfully left some cokes. I thirstily downed one and set about changing out my contact lens with the help of a camera crew making a documentary about the race for the Sundance channel. The day was warming up and I was starting to feel the heat a bit. Andrew had barely stopped to fill up his water bottle and had left a few minutes before. I caught up with Mike Dobies, Dewayne Satterfield and co and stuck with them up over The Hump to book 8. Down the other side and along to book 9 at the Indian rock.

We then started the difficult descent to book 10 at the confluence of two creeks. The footing is slick, steep and rocky and I'm amazed at how fast these other guys can move down it. I'm hanging on for dear life. This area is difficult in the dark and banned from scouting so I was really trying to suck it all in. We hit book 10 OK and then up for the last really major climb "Big Hell" which is another 1600 vertical feet in about half a mile or something equally as ridiculous. While climbing this I notice I'm dropping back from the other runners and my head was starting to swim a bit. It's a long climb, I should imagine at least 45 minutes, maybe longer and by the time I hit the top I'm feeling really lousy and puke a little bit. Hmmm, not what I was really wanting at this stage. The other runners had long gone and I didn't hear anybody behind me so I took my page from book 11, kept on moving and picked up the Chimney Top trail and took it in totally the wrong direction for about 15 minutes. I was in a funk at this stage an NOT concentrating. I happened to notice the sun coming down in front of me and realized I shouldn't be heading west. A complete vocabulary of swear words later and I'm heading back to take the trail the right way. That little maneuver cost me almost 30 minutes.

I'm really feeling like crap now and this section of trail goes on and on and on. My memory was that is was all downhill but in the middle you start climbing again. My legs were total jello at this point and another runner, Wendell Doman (another veteran) passed me sprawled out at the side of the trail and, very kindly, gave me some crystallized ginger to settle my stomach. I swallow a couple of pieces, throw them straight back up and stagger on down the trail.

After a couple more miles I hit the main park road and take it to the start/finish line at the infamous yellow gate at the north end of the campground. I'm vaguely aware of a few cheers and Peter asking me what I wanted to eat but I'm not sure if I responded. I touched the gate, handed my baggy with my race # and pages to Gary and collapsed in a heap on the ground.

Head spinning, stomach churning, Peter half carried me back to our campsite and started getting my pack resupplied for the next loop. He had ravioli cooking for me and anything I wanted to drink. Unfortunately all I could do was crawl into my sleeping bag and curl up in the fetal position. I still had three hours to get back out before the cut off but in between bouts of sleeping, cramping and whimpering, all the while refusing Peter's offer of food and drink, it was soon obvious that my race was done.

And so it was.

2008: Rookie - one loop and partial second loop.
2009: Seasoned veteran - one loop; barely!

Congrats to all who started and especially to Fun Runners; DeWayne Satterfield & Byron Backer. Extra special congrats to Andrew Thompson for completing all five loops in just over 57 hours to become only the eighth finisher of this race.

Am I going back to try it again? Probably. Maybe. One day. I think. Possibly...

The Barkley Marathons - "The race that eats it's young!"

Cheers!
Jon

Another victim claimed

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-04-06T15:38:20-07:00

As I made my way back to the main TA to wait for Jon to finish his first lap, I could only imagine what punishment he was enduring. After more than an hour of agonized waiting, I finally caught a glimpse of a lone figure staggering up the last hill to the infamous yellow gate that signifies the start and finish of each lap. As the wavering figure got close enough I recognized it as Jon, and feared the worst. Dehydration had taken its toll on him, and he had been unable to eat or drink much in the last miles of the loop. After getting a chance to lie down and try to re-hydrate, Jon decided his day was over.

It was a disappointing result, but the Barkley is a cruel mistress, and has no mercy. For the complete story of what happened out there, we'll have to wait for Jon to recover and reflect.

-Peter

The hills are alive...

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-04-06T15:13:09-07:00

With the anguished cries of the broken souls attempting to finish the first loop of the Barkley. Several of the climbs on the course are long, wide open climbs that allow the spectators a great view, and the participants an all too visible reminder of how much work they have to do. This climb in particular is known as Rat Jaw.

Is there any better way to suffer?

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-04-06T15:08:02-07:00

This weekend Jon has decided to try the Barkley Marathon again. Known as one of the toughest running races around, it draws a motley crew all trying to make their way around Frozen Head State Park. I am currently waiting at the top Rat Jaw, watching for the tired expressions on the runners faces. Almost makes me happy I didn't get in.

- Peter

Patsy is ready. But is daddy?

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-04-02T19:25:57-07:00

My baby daughter, Patricia, is cheering for Team Checkpoint Zero/Inov-8 and daddy as they prepare for the MIX next month. I can't believe I'm going back to race the Michigan Expedition again. I guess I can't turn down a challenge that involves mosquitoes, sand and log-jammed rivers -- the usual adventure racing fare. At least now I'll have another fan at home cheering me on.

- Paul

A Nasty Habit

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-04-07T14:12:31-07:00

"The pride of youth is in strength and beauty, the pride of old age is in discretion."
-Democritus

The e-mails were a wee bit easier to pass off than the phone call. Although Peter's tone was more or less characteristic of his witty and self deprecating nature, I could tell that he was slightly frustrated. He had gone through his list of alternates but no one was dumb enough to join the team for E-FIX. Although my resolve towards taking a break from racing had been tempered by a new allegiance to school, financial security and alpine climbing, Pete was able to sweeten the deal and pull a "Yes" out of me. My ego didn't need a boost but somehow I felt needed by the team. I was a pansy for caving, but deep down I still wanted to head into battle with my fellow Zeros and see what West Virginia has to offer. The only thing left to do was get back on the pain train.

I had all but given up on adventure racing, a sport that reeks of excess and absurdity in a time when people are having trouble maintaining their standard of living. With each day growing more desperate in our economy, who has the time to leave work and spend money on something as selfish as adventure racing? Most of the prolific racers in the southeast have families, which should undoubtedly be their foremost concern, not how to perform the equivalent of a back-country car-jacking. While I'm usually only beholden to one (unless my girlfriend reads this, which then increases the number to two), adventure racing isn't the sport of choice for college students (it's beer pong if you were wondering). It's expensive, time consuming, and at times downright miserable.

Earlier in the year I sent an e-mail to Peter announcing my intentions to take the spring off from racing. Last fall gave me a bunch of debt and numb feet for several months. Sure, I had wonderful memories of all the epics and surreal moments from racing, but was it worth it all if you absolutely destroyed yourself and still stayed the bride's maid? The icing on the cake came after Nationals when I sold my beloved mountain bike to pay the bills- a betrayal of character that paralleled taking my dog to be put down. My bike was one of my most prized possessions, a gift from a dear friend and my only source of transportation when I was without a car for over a year. I just couldn't give any more to satiate my fix.

Last weekend I pulled-off my crowning achievement in the hybrid realm of sports and women. My girlfriend and I paddled Section II and part of Section III on the Chattooga in the pouring rain. After that we tarped it for the night, fulfilling my need to go ludicrously ultra-light in every aspect of my life (stuffing overnight gear into a white-water boat isn't easy regardless of how light you go). Instead of using two cars to shuttle the boats, we ran the eleven miles back to the put-in along the Bartram Trail and then drove back for the hidden boats. It was probably while taking a pee break/ scouting Dick's Creek Ledge under the crashing heavens that I realized that I wasn't even training for E-FIX, that multi-sport was part of my lifestyle. I was born for this, not adapted. When you find the activity that best suites you, overlooking that gift is a crime. I'll be able to sleep with the financial, emotional and physical scars from adventure racing with what I know now: I was built to suffer.

-Hunter

How does your winter training go?

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-02-12T10:40:33-08:00

Since calling Atlanta home, it never ceases to amaze me we can have 65 degree days in "winter". Sure, I miss the x-c skiing, but being able to hit the trails and run or bike at this time of the year is priceless.

It's been a slow start to the racing season so far, but come late March, we'll be toeing the line at a bunch of races, lets hope this nice weather holds.

-Peter

Are you Xtreme? (The remix)

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-01-25T20:15:55-08:00

Most race reports begin with "It dawned a beautiful day." And while this day was no different. There was one really obvious addition to this beautiful sunny day...it was -9F. Yes it's true the January 16-17th 2009 installment of the Odyssey One day Extreme 30 hour adventure race was the coldest race I have ever raced in. And possibly the coldest temps I have ever encountered and we (Checkpoint Zero/Inov-8) were going to be out in it for 30 hours.

I was asked by Peter Jolles about 2 weeks ago to join Checkpoint Zero/Inov-8 and Michele Hobson and Bo Martin to race with them in the mountains of Southwest Virginia. My usual team of Roaming/Inov-8 had sense not to sign up for 30 hours of trekking, canoeing and mountain biking at this time of year. And now here I was standing on the start line at 7am wondering and really quite scared of the 30 hours ahead of us. In preparation I took every piece of warm clothing I had and even packed some serious mountaineering mittens from all my years of mountaineering here in the US and back home in NZ. However even this race was more bitter than some previous mountaineering expeditions.

We began in earnest with a trek down a dirt road safe in the knowledge that Ronny Angel has previously the night before at the race briefing canceled the canoeing section. Partly out of fear for participants dumping in the frigid New River, although for the fact that the river (which was considerably wide at the put in) was frozen. We soon left the 'comfort' of the dirt road to follow faint trails up hill. By now all moisture was freezing instantly and as cold as it was most teams were by now burning up and shedding layers of clothing. In fact the majority of race could be described at trying to figure out your wardrobe and whether you were too hot or under no circumstances able to get warm.

We continued to make good progress through the early trekking points being somewhere between exposed hilltops and creeks and rivers. We continued on foot back to the TA and had jumped around between 1st and 4th place. We blew through the TA really quickly and headed out on our bikes, but not before thawing out Peters back wheel as the hub had frozen. From there we biked on a combination of single track to dirt roads and of course there were the frozen creeks. These were a challenge EVERY time we encountered them, and we encountered them A LOT. This presented the ordeal of figuring out whether we could ride through or gingerly tip toe across the ice and hope it wouldn't break. This slowed us down considerably and when you have to cross the same creek 20 times, progress is slow.

We eventually biked and pushed our bikes up and over and along a ridge to another TA where we had to transition to a trekking section. This was a relatively easy section and it was good to be on our feet again after enduring frigid and numb toes and fingers. At times those mountaineering mittens were well used during this bike section.

We hit the o-section points in a counter clockwise direction and used the ease of trails and at times just bush whacked across ridge lines, creeks, re-entrants and saddles with relative ease. During the course of this section and the previous bike section we managed to get out into the lead through a combination of riding and running hard, Pete's great navigation and a chancy decision we made at the top of one saddle on the bike and whereby chose to head to the right instead of going left. This meant a little more climbing however it paid off as it created a good cushion between us and the following 2-3 teams.
After we finished the o-section we put our bike shoes back on (after I had to thaw mine out beside the camp fire made by the race staff). This was the last place we saw another team that was competing with us and spent the next 12 hours out there on our own. From here were rode mostly on gravel and paved roads on what was a longer ride to the next checkpoint, nevertheless a quicker ride rather than endless miles of single track. This ride was for the most part uneventful apart from a flat tire for me and the fading light of dusk and therefore adjusting to using bike lights. The intense cold meant that some of our lights didn't work and made travel difficult at times.

This mountain bike section eventually lead us back to trails and ultimately the TA to transition to the last section, an optional o-section. This wasn't before Bo bent the rear derailleur hanger on his bike. This under normal circumstances would spell doom, however Pete just happened to have one on hand... 'Who carries that stuff?'

When we got back to the TA it was 9pm numerous teams had dropped however we were pushing on knowing that we were in the lead and really wanted to win. We were glad to be done with biking as the cold was beginning to take a toll on our bikes and making it increasingly difficult to ride. As we entered the TA we agreed that we should get in and out as quick as we could. For numerous reasons including the evils of being inside out of the weather and how difficult it is to leave along with how demoralizing it would be for the 2nd place team to enter the TA and hear from the race staff that we had already left. Before we could leave the TA on the last trek we had to plot points and check we got them plotted correctly. After completing that and getting lots food and fluids in us we left spending only 30 minutes in transition.

The final trek went without a hitch thanks to some fantastic navigation from Peter and our desire to 'clean' the course we remained really motivated. We encountered some snow but generally good conditions. At times we utilized the trail system then other times we navigated from hill top to hill top using ridge lines, creeks and saddles. Our feet stayed dry on this last section apart from crossing a spillway on a dam right near the finish line however by that point we were home and would be sitting down relaxing within minutes. This section took us about 7hours a lot longer than what we imagined.

We entered the TA and the finish line to wake up race officials and tell them 'we were done'. We finished in 1st place at about 4.30am in 21hrs 30mins. A good 90 mins ahead of the next team! As we sat we went through the usual litany of 'I quit this stupid sport.' 'I am never racing in this weather again.' 'I am selling all my gear and finding another sport.' Etc. however as I write this I have already raced this past weekend in a much shorter 6hour race and my addiction to this sport which I describe to people as an exercise on misery, continues.

This race presented numerous moments of test and trial, and we came out on top. A win! The cold we experienced took us to new levels of endurance and being able to manage ourselves our equipment and ability to take care of one another. The cold would have killed you if you got in trouble. Hydration was a constant issue with EVERYTHING freezing. Drinking bladders in our Inov-8 packs were unusable; however we soon solved that by coiling the tube around inside the pack so that it was next to our back and therefore able to stay unfrozen from the warmth of our backs, it works... try it.

A great race and with a lot of testing moments, however we made it. It was fun racing with Peter, Michelle and Bo again and I hope we all can again soon... however of course in warmer weather!

-Paul Humphreys

Are you Xtreme?

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-01-25T20:09:19-08:00

This past weekends Odyssey One Day Xtreme certainly lived up to it's name. With temperatures at the start registering at a staggering -9 F, it was clear that this race would be no walk in the park. With visions of icicles hanging from brims of hats from last years Checkpoint Zero Adventure Race, I was questioning if I had brought enough clothes, and if I was truly insane. Being there with a crowd of like minded individuals at least assured me that whatever I was, I wasn't alone.

Within 20 minutes of the start, any bladder that had an exposed hose had frozen solid, rendering any liquids trapped behind it undrinkable. One wouldn't think that dehydration would be such a big issue in the cold, but it can be just as bad as those hot days. Thankfully, one of the design features of our Inov-8 packs is to have a back loading bladder, and using that rear access hatch I was able to coil up my frozen bladder hose. Over the course of the race the heat from my back melted the ice and as long as I kept it tucked in there, I didn't have any more freezing issues. Other folks used equaly creative methods, with varying amounts of success. I say numerous water containers underneath jackets, down pants, and who knows where else, trying to keep their contents in a liquid state.

The cold weather was a benefit at times, especially when it came to the 42 million stream crossings we encountered. Not wanting to get wet at all, we stopped at each stream to assess the width, depth, and danger. When we were lucky, there was ice covering the entire creek and we could walk right across. In other instances, we had to jump between ice covered rock, no small feat. I think each of us got our toes wet at least once, but none of us ever fell completely in. One fall like that would have surely been the end of the race.

As we charged through the course, barely keeping warm we ticked off all the CP's and made it back to the main TA. We had a final orienteering course ahead of us, and we weren't particularly thrilled about heading back into the cold, but what can you do? We ended up having a little difficulty on a couple CP's, but we managed to clear the course and make it back before anyone else.

Given the bittersweet finish of the end of last year, to start off with a win felt good. I once again have to thank our sponsors Inov-8 for the great packs and shoes and nuun for the hydration. Hey nuun, if you are looking for a new product, can you figure out a way to make your hydration tablets prevent a bladder from freezing solid in -9 degree weather and still taste good? Being from Georgia we won't need many, but that one or two weeks a year when it gets cold down here it would really help.

-Peter

A Killer Deal ...

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2009-01-04T18:15:54-08:00

It was as soggy Sunday, but I was able to fit in a road ride from my house to Stone Mountain Village. I pass a few interesting cemeteries along the way, including the City of Stone Mountain Cemetery that serves as the final resting place for many Confederate veterans. Along the front of the cemetery are the graves of 150 unknown Confederate soldiers who died as casualties of the Battle of Atlanta in the summer of 1864.

I've always appreciated cemeteries, and get an especially somber chill when I read the headstone of Confederate veteran A.J. Thomson that proclaims he was murdered in 1876.

Not so historic is the Melwood Cemetery between Clarkston and Stone Mountain, which apparently has some vacancies. I had to snap a picture of the sign encouraging passers-by to quickly come to terms with their mortality if only to save 40 percent on their eternal parking space!

I'll pass on the deal for now. I'm hoping to TAKE IT with me.

- Paul

No Bigfoot sighting, but plenty of rhododendron

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2008-12-08T09:23:53-08:00

For the second year, I helped fellow Trailblazer club member Greg Holland put together a mock race in one of north Georgia's best mountain biking areas.

This year's course at Bull Mountain was planned to take teams up to 12 hours to finish, but I think the cold temperatures Saturday, the long climbs, and the nasty rhododendron conspired against us all.

Part of the course took racers to the southern terminus of the Appalachian Trail, at Springer Mountain, and along the scenic Benton McKaye Trail. Those that chose to take routes off-trail had to tangle (literally) with one of the largest stands of rhododendron I've ever seen. I was on my hands and knees crawling through the stuff just to put out the points the night before the race. Nasty!

Greg and I really were hoping a team would finally confirm the existence of Bigfoot. We put a checkpoint in a food-plot said to be frequented by the secretive Sasquatch (UTM 761549 3834345). But, Bigfoot apparently chose to be a spectator AGAIN and did now show himself. Still, we captured the above raw photo footage we believe to be a pair of the ape-like critters trying to escape the eye of our camera. You decide ...

The Trailblazer-sponsored event paired experienced racers with beginner teams. I had the pleasure of teaming up with a team of very good-natured college buddies, including Will O'Connor who joined us for the Checkpoint Challenge, and had a great time.

My lasting memory of the day ... one of my teammates (Joel) was hiking along on the first trek section when he tripped over a small branch, which stuck into his tights and jabbed him in the leg. He grunted with pain, then pulled the small branch free of his tights ... Not three steps later he tripped over ANOTHER branch, which reared up and stabbed him in the same spot just as the previous branch had done. So, Joel then looks down at the branch, and with the most incredulous look on his face, asked the branch "WHY?!?" as if he expected the branches of the world to explain why they held such contempt for him that they would join forces on that day to repeatedly persecute him. Classic!!

All four of us chuckled about that the rest of the day.

- Paul

Harsh Medicine - Can youth and hubris conquer all at Nationals?

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2008-12-09T11:18:42-08:00

As I pumped Bad Religion and Sound Garden on my way to Blue Ridge, I considered what was left in the tank. In six weeks I'd been in a 3-day expedition race, a 50k trail run, and a 30hr, the Upstate AR culminating less than two weeks prior. In the latter I had pushed it way into the red on the final trek to the finish, pulling my teammates up the third class climb in order to pass DART- NUUN and gamble for the win. We crested the hill physically and emotionally drained, hypoxic and choking on incoherent words. Our hand was called after coming up a checkpoint short, but a loss was never more euphoric: I had burned like a Roman Candle all the way home and hit the ground as an empty shell. It was all I had ever asked of a race.

The ongoing saga of finalizing a team roster for Nationals had damaged my enthusiasm for the event, regardless of competing on the home field. Ten days out, I was chosen to fill in on the squad, which consisted of my Upstate teammates Peter Jolles and Jennifer Rinderle. I shrugged off the fact that my taper had been gauged towards Upstate- I could float through on the season's momentum to kidney punch the tops teams in the country.

When the maps and instructions were finally dispersed the night before Nationals, we felt pretty confident in our local knowledge. A restful night's sleep was had by most in our crew and the dawn saw us preparing for battle. After driving to the gazebo in downtown Blue Ridge for our 5:45am assembly, the field of over seventy teams boarded the Blue Ridge Railroad for terra incognita. Lurching into the frigid, inky morning, the turbulence inside the cars muted the mountain winds outside. The shuffling in and out of tiny lavatories, adjusting of Samurai-like kayak paddles protruding from a few packs, and situating of maps repeated in every car ad nauseam. After a thirty-minute ride north into Tennessee, we streamed off the train and crossed a bridge above the Toccoa River. A short rogaine on foot would warm us before launching onto the river for a 12-14 mile paddle. The field would take-out and portage near the Brush Creek bike trails just east of the Ocoee Whitewater Center and then run a few miles to where we had dropped our bikes the night before.

A shotgun blast announced the start and began over 24 hours of unabridged suffering. We made quick work of the prologue, chasing the leaders through draws, over hills, and across the river like a pack of hounds. Once in the canoe, I set the cadence as we strained to find the perfect lines. Having been graciously relieved of our swing seat by race management, Jenn swapped between balancing on the exceedingly comfortable thwart and kneeling on the hull when it seemed as though we might go for a swim. Aside from hanging up on few rocks and nearly running a four-foot spillover, we surprised ourselves at only losing a few positions on the leg. A stout cadence and little food or water for three hours aided my retardation in missing the punch at the takeout, thus meriting a short, merry return to the river for said checkpoint. Shouts of encouragement by friends on shore faded quickly as Peter and I blindly carried the boat uphill; more creative expletives have never been uttered during a portage.

Four hours into it, we were still battling at the forefront but could feel the wave of competition swelling above our heads. Stiff-legged and fading, we ran along the Ocoee River to our bike drop at the Thunderock Campground. While inhaling as many calories as one might attempt without suicidal effects, I managed to shred my sexy legs on briars and scare the bejeezus out of a female jogger. We shared a moment of bewilderment as I crashed out of the woods and onto the trail, shades of Eric Rudolph clouding her thoughts.

At the bike drop we were all business. Peter's hydration bladder had detonated after Jenn had accidentally knelt on it in the canoe- an omen we wouldn't understand until after the race- but we gathered as much water as possible under a growing rain and began spinning up the Thunderock Express. My lower back killed from a pack swollen like an engorged tick. The expedition format required us to carry pounds of food, water, and equipment. If we were really smart, we would have called it quits right there. We missed a key turn at our next junction and ended up backtracking a few miles. Swapping back and forth with several teams, we snaked up and down the roads and trails south of the Ocoee. One subsequent descent set the tone for the rest of my race.

In what can only be considered a moment of pure genius, I had decided to leave my sunglasses behind at the rental cabin. While screaming down the Forest Service roads at Mach speed, a constant flow of mud and rocks found its way onto my face and into my eyes. It took one lucky speck of sand under my left contact to put me in the same boat as Achilles. I must have rubbed the contact out in my frustration, because I could only see out of my right eye. Bellowing in the downpour for Peter and Jenn to hold-up, I begrudgingly rode on like a grimacing pirate. Without spare contacts or glasses, this was going to be awesome. Pete and Jenn shrugged the news with positive reinforcement, the kind used when friends knows you're screwed but don't want to say it for fear of making the situation worse. We pedaled on and found the Tumbling Lead Horse Trail, the segment that would lead us to the next TA. The faint path became more eroded with each passing team power sliding down the 30-degree slopes. I flatted at the top of one climb and added the delay to my growing list of accolades.

The TA at the bottom of the horse trail found us farther behind the leaders and left us even more frustrated. The rain had turned the trails and hillsides into "slip 'n bleeds", thanks to rotting leaves carpeting the ground. A several hour trek took us straight up Mule Top peak and then screaming down into the misty valley below. Darkness came quickly and Jenn became my eyes, guiding me through the minefield of loose rocks and stump holes. As I became more burdensome, Peter put me on tow. I shamefully clipped in. This was the first time in four years of racing that I'd ever been towed. We slogged up FS 22 to our bikes wondering if Peter's nav had bought us some time. At the miserable outpost of a transition area, we discovered that some of our southern brethren were either still there or out on the trek. Teaming up with the CPZero Master's squad, we mounted our steeds and bombed into the night. I fought off epilepsy as my double vision transformed all of the flashing LED's into the most miserable rave to date.

Checkpoint Zero Master's Captain Jon Barker led our procession to Jack's River Campground, his exposed right butt cheek lighting the way. Apparently Jon had not been so lucky on the descent from Mule Top. Familiar faces and a fire greeted us at the campground. I was feeling better after woofing some food on the moderate ride and took the opportunity to check on Peter and Jenn. The fire drew the muddy, shivering racers to it like the Sirens' call, but I knew better. Hustling Jenn and Peter out of the TA, we realized that the weather and terrain were slowing most of the field and that we were slowly climbing back into a top five position. The sky cleared and the mercury dropped as we ran along the South Fork Trail on the edge of the Cohutta Wilderness. The first few points came easily and after gambling on some unmarked roads and trails, we popped out in front of both WEDALI teams and joined forces on the last few points of the trek. We were back in the game.

Our transition took slightly longer than hoped, but we were low on water again and knew that there would be few options for filling-up until late in the race. Peter had been drinking straight from creeks through a ghetto-rigged filtration straw but it was never enough. We saddled up and soldiered on. The ride up to Flattop reminded me of the endless climbs in Moab. Enveloped in the tiny world our headlamps created, we rode out of reality and into our minds, each turn and switchback bringing us closer to becoming victims in an Escher painting. After grapping the CP on Flattop, the wheels came off. Literally. We buzzed along a ridgeline and counted the mini peaks we rolled over. Three was the magic number that would bring us to a recently blocked trail, a trail that would elude us until morning. When the trail didn't magically appear after the third peak, we dismounted and decided we were at a great juncture for a bike-whack. Peter's dehydration, my status as "damaged goods", and Jen's fatigue prevented any argument on the matter. We stepped into oblivion. The raping by rhododendron would be long and painful.

The next four hours were some of the most miserable of my life. Bikes were thrown. Tempers flared. The adventure racing gods defecated on our spirits. Having no recollection of looking at the map to offer advice, I had no idea where we were or where we were going. The climax was a "death huddle" for warmth on a remote boulder. I desperately wanted to get out my emergency blanket and play Survivorman until the sun warmed us. Eventually we got up and carried our bikes uphill to find a road and the cusp of dawn. A team in the vicinity helped us find the hidden trail we had originally sought. The sunrise was extraordinarily beautiful. All I wanted was to enjoy it with some coffee, but we rode on. At least we wouldn't die on some godforsaken hill like the more fortunate members of the Donner Party.

Riding east towards Blue Ridge, we found more company while combining FS roads, single-track, and deteriorating tracks in the final push home. From goofy to downright cranky, I felt like our competitive edge had been compromised by the bike-whack. Jenn's sunny outlook and Peter's fortitude made up for my shortcomings. We decided to pick-up all but two of the remaining points in an effort to avoid missing the 30-hour cut off. At long last we roared onto pavement. More people than we'd seen in the preceding twelve hours cheered us on. Our epic was almost complete when it was relayed to me that we were required to ride the train tracks back into town.

The railroad ties shook us like a British nanny. There was no novelty in what we were doing. For the few miles we rattled down the tracks, cranking the big ring to maintain speed, I wanted nothing more than to challenge the race director to a cage match. Normally one is swelled with joy at being this close to the finish line, but my arse argued differently. When our route mercifully pulled back onto the road, we could finally let go. Friends and family came into view. An invisible force pushed us into their arms, praise, and beers. The three of us smiled at the culmination of a brutal race and season. A few hours later, we would learn that pure stubbornness had brought us into a respectable tenth place. I had come to Blue Ridge with visions of grandeur. Unfortunately, my vision was blurred.

-Hunter

New and Improved! Now with more topo!

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2008-11-10T10:31:07-08:00

This weekends USARA National Championship race was the official unveiling of the new and improved Checkpoint Zero / Inov-8 jersey. Sporting a new and improved look with more topo for your your viewing pleasure. The team is thrilled to be able to retire their old stinky threads in exchange for these masterpieces.

Gambling at the Upstate Adventure Race

noreply@blogger.com (Team Checkpoint Zero) — 2008-10-31T08:52:30-07:00

Every now and again on the race course you're forced to gamble, sometimes you win, sometimes you don't. At the Upstate Adventure Race this past weekend, we didn't. Congrats to DART-nuun on their victory, and our team mates Paul and Michele racing as Inov-8 for a well deserved second place. My apologies to Kenny Rogers.

On a cool fall evenin on a road bound for nowhere
We met up with some racers, we were all to jazzed to sleep.
So we took turns a starin at squigly lines thinking where to go
til nap time overtook us, and we began to sleep.

I said, son, I've had some time of readin this here map
And learnin where the cps are by the way trails twist and turn
So if you don't mind my guessin, I can see this ain't no snap
For a tase of your ensure I'll give you some advice

So we set out on the course, and we went as hard as we could
We were right up with the leaders, and puttin up a fight
But sixteen was hidden well, and our luck was runnin out
See, if you're gonna play the game, boy, ya gotta learn to play it right.

You got to know when to hold em, know when to fold em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run.
You always find your cps when youre out on the race course.
There'll be time enough for guessin when the racin's done.