If you haven’t heard of it before, the Wild Medic Project is a volunteer-run network of paramedics, nurses and health care providers who provide ongoing health and hygiene education, as well as prehospital medical training, to communities with poor access to appropriate medical facilities. They do this while delivering concurrent medical aid to these same underprivileged areas.  

WMP Field Staff are currently deployed in Nepal helping with the recovery program there, and any help you could give them would make a huge difference:  http://thewildmedicproject.com/donate/

Thanks very much Steve!

—

With the coming and going of another new year, come the throngs of enthusiastic ‘resolution-ers’ hell bent on changing something in their lives. By the second week of February however, some 80 percent of those ‘resolution-ers’ are back home in the same old routine because another new year resolution has failed. Why is it that good intentions are not enough to guarantee change?

To answer this question, it’s important to recognise that your resolutions are doomed to fail if, other than resolve to change, you’ve done nothing to enhance your capacity to handle the inevitable stress and discomfort that is inherently involved in change. Truth is that change entails some degree of emotional friction, which in turn generates an uncomfortable feeling we call stress. People share the fundamental problem of self-sabotage that when stressed, they associate the feeling with a negative aspect and thus try to avoid it. But not all stress is bad. The feeling you experience when you break away from the usual routine and face the exciting unknown, can be termed stress, but that sort of stress can be a motivating force to apply yourself with more rigour and enthusiasm to ensure the end goal is met. Unless you first train your mind to recognise the difference between good stress and bad stress, don’t expect your new year’s resolution to materialise anytime soon.

As the saying goes, it’s not the horse that draws the cart, it’s the oats in his belly. Well in the case of Wild Plans, it’s not your shiny new running shoes that get you to the end – it’s your mind.

If any of you are worried that you may have missed your opportunity to fulfil your new year’s resolution don’t be concerned as there is hope in sight! It’s officially the year 2072 by the Nepali calendar proving that time is a relative thing but living your life to your full potential is not.

Build self-trust, harness challenges, learn patience and cultivate optimism. You have ample time to fulfil your dreams but time can be lost equally as fast. So get up and train your mind first and your body will follow.

Buckley’s Chance, SRA in a word: infreakingcredible.

I’ve largely gotten out of the habit of writing blow by blow race reports, but Kellie’s right; So much happened in this one that if I don’t do it now I’ll forget it.  I’ve tried to write it as a story, but really it’s just a slobbering brain dump.  I’ve barely even proof-read.  Sorry.  You, dear reader, are to suffer for my benefit. THANKS!

This was never meant to be so damn long but then a Survival Run is such a unique event that I probably should have known better.  In the end it’s turned into a linear, blow-by-stupid-blow account of my race and experiences. I’ve offered no interpretation, no emotional back story or creative intertwining of any other content.  I needed to just get something down on paper to make sure I didn’t forget anything.  It’s self indulgent and entirely about me.  I’ve stuffed up some place names and likely forgotten things.  Hell, i’ve probably misremembered a bunch of things too.  Kellie reckon’s no one will read it (it’s about 8200 words…) and that’s ok.  A more refined, reader-worthy article will appear in the December/January edition of Trail Run Mag, available free for download at www.trailrunmag.com

With all that said, and in case you don’t make it to the end, here’s a list of thanks:  to Josue Stephens for coming up with such an awesome event in the first place, to Chief Brabon and Emilie Brabon-Hames for helping bring it to Australia, to Sean Meehan for the course design, Scott McKay for the on-course calming words, Rin for the photography and her smiling presence on course and to all the other volunteers and staff for putting in long hours and hard work so that we might truly test ourselves.  To all the other competitors; without you there would be no race, no challenge, no brotherhood.  To VFuel Australia for providing 100% of my race fuel, FitHealth Nutrition for keeping me well-fed before and after, SOS Hydrate for pre and post hydration and THIR Australia for the headwear-cum-egg-carrier Finally, and most of all, to Matty Bell for being such a positive influence and similarly stupid serial masochist, and my gorgeous girlfriend, Kellie Emmerson, for her unyielding support, encouragement, patience and masterful crewing.

— START —

This was my A-race for the year.  Since I signed up way back when, all my races and training had been working toward this.  My training slipped at times, but in general I was pretty diligent and with the help of Coach Mathieu Dore of The Garage and a very tolerant girlfriend I got the work done.  The training was fairly generalist, with a focus on first rebuilding my endurance base and then including lots of fun things like laps of Glasgow with a Weight Vest or 20litre water drum, Indoor Climbing and specific sessions at Factory3 CrossFit (RIP).

SRA was never going to be a matter of sign up, train, race.  With a motto like “Adapt or Die” and a creed that goes a little something like “If I get hurt, injured or die it’s my own damn fault”, the race directors and crew make every attempt to ensure you know that this one’s on you.  They will screw with you, it will be very hard and there is legitimate and ever-present risk.  Of course they attempt to mitigate that (thank you Nanny State Australia) with roving first aid vehicles, ever present staff and volunteers, and safety kayakers on most water crossings; but they’re going to help little when you’re 25m up a tree and unroped.

Relatively early on we got the first “training assignment” – we would not be allowed modern water carrying devices during the race: no bladders, bottles, soft flasks etc.  Rather, we would have to make our own using leather, bees wax and thread.  We could use artificial materials to “seal” the bag (e.g. silicone seams and modern closures like bottle caps) but it needed to be handmade and using these three main ingredients.  My third bottle worked out, but that was the end result of hours of gluing, sewing, waxing and generally filling up our house with random miscellanea.

Then came the kit list; Bahahaha!  You will need (among other things) the following mandatory items: an 18” machete, knee length gaiters, first aid, two head lamps, enough food for the entire race (entirely unsupported), water treatment system (you will be collecting it from whatever sources you find on course), a chunk of beeswax and a leather sewing kit for on-the-fly repairs and 4.5m of tough fabric which you will use to make your own backpack.

Prohibited items included: a backpack, a modern water carrying device (e.g. bladder, bottle, soft flask etc.), map, compass, GPS, phone, dry bags, complaints.  Yep, we had to sew our own backpack at the start of the race and use this to carry everything from our machetes through clothing, an entire race worth of food, tools that we made or collected along the way, full water bladders etc.

The final “training assignment” reminded us of the rules (complaints will be used against you, medical support = DNF, cut offs are very strict, the overall cut off for this 75km event is 28 hours, if you don’t complete 90% of the challenges you DNF etc. etc.) and gave us a list of things to become “familiar” with: Returning and non-returning boomerangs, Woomeras (spear throwers), witchetty grubs, fire bundles, message sticks, different types of plants and so on.  Practicing with a Boomerang at the local park was mostly humorous; practicing with a spear thrower was quite awkward.

With machete gleaming, fluoro pink ripstop nylon and 25 hours of food packed (we had NO idea what to expect), I headed up to the Gold Coast with my good mate, training buddy, sounding board and fellow competitor, Matty Bell.  The Bell’s very kindly let me stay with them for a few days while we did this thing. Matty and I had signed up together and (I’m sure Suze Bell hates me for leading her Husband astray) helped each other with training and assignment ideas, motivation, strategy and the inevitable conspiracy theories.  In the 2014 race the organisers had started the Nicaragua Survival Run 12 hours early; at packet pickup.  Runners arrived to get their bibs and found that the race was on.  With inevitable suspicion, this year we arrived expecting the same sort of torment and misdirection.  Things this year were relatively low-key in comparison, though not without a few little games.

The entire event was held on the 3000 acre (about 12km2) Inter-Action Experiential Learning facility, an Outdoor Education property managed by Outward Bound Australia.  Keeping everything on private property would have no doubt saved the organisers untold amounts of stress and drama; running this event on public land would have been a bureaucratic Survival Run itself and an Adapt or Die nightmare of litigious bullshit.

Arriving at the Bat Cave (aka Basecamp, Start/Finish) we were told we’d be briefed at 3:45 about what we would need to prepare for our Packet Pick up at 4pm.  “Bring EVERYTHING you need for the race, and nothing you don’t”, said Chief Brabon, Race Director.  Continuing, he explained:

Put your kit over there and listen up; you’re not given anything in a Survival Run. You have to earn your race number.  These are your example rocks.  The green one is for the ladies, it ways 30lbs [I think…], the red one is for the blokes, it’s 50lbs.  Have a feel of it and then head down to the creek and bring back a rock that weighs at least 50lbs on these scales.  Any lighter than 50lbs and you’ll be sent back for a heavier one.  Any heavier than 50lbs and… well, that’s up to you.  There’s no time limit so take as long as you want.  Once you’ve got your rock we’ll paint your race number on it, check your kit and you can get to work making your pack.

Measuring my first rock – 48lbs

47lbs… damn it! 62lbs… nope not risking that one… 58lbs… you’ve got to be kidding me… Ok, this one is close but still too heavy; if I smash it a few times maybe I’ll crack some off and bring it closer to the correct weight.  57lbs and that’s close enough; I’m the last one to finish the challenge and off to a very rough start.  Surely a few pounds wont matter…

Finding a 57lbs rock

With #37 bib in hand my gear was checked and the arts and crafts session began.  I’d taken a punt that ripstop nylon would be up to the challenge (in spite of the advice to bring canvas) and that the lighter weight and non-absorbent nature of nylon would work in my favour.  With full knowledge that getting lost was a very real possibility I chose the brightest, ugliest colour I could find: hi-vis fluoro pink!  A previous Survival Runner, Jamie Boyle, had given me some pack advice and with two prototypes made in training I was confident about nailing this one.  My training packs had been a little two loose up front so I’d reduced the measurements for the race day pack.  BIG MISTAKE!  Filling it full of mandatory gear made it impossible to get on.  DAMN IT!

Frustrated at being the last to complete the rock challenge I now had a so small it could barely contain my frayed nerves.  I spent about 98% of the race briefing brainstorming how I could fix it and in the end used Matty Bell’s pack as an inspiration:  I could tie two large straps into my failed arm holes, haul it up onto my back and them cross over my chest. It would hurt more and be more awkward to get on and off, but it was quick and effective and I was out of time.

Matty Bell and I decided to drive back to Kingscliff to get four hours of solid sleep in a bed rather than the six hours of rubbish sleep we might get in the tiny hire car.  I was off to a bad start and needed to get my head back in the game; the drive and a comfortable bed would do us good.

Up at 2am for a quick bite and coffee and on the road by 2:30; At the start line by 3:20 and we were plunging into the dark at 0400 in a mad rush of… single file walking.  With everyone very conscious that this would surely be a long day, the pace off the start line was pretty leisurely.  Hiking up the first hill into a mess of Lantana, onto a fire trail, past a small dam [apparently!] back into the scrub.  The pace was fairly relaxed and I jogged up past a few people, keen to make ground where I good.  We emerged into a small clearing lit by Quad Bike light and our first challenge:

Alright people, this road here and the one you just walked in on are the two sides of a triangle, on the far side is another road.  Don’t cross any of them.  Inside the triangle there are trees marked with Yellow hazard tape.  Chop one down and bring it back here WITH THE TAPE.  Make sure it’s at least as long as this example log.  Go!

 Stepping out the log to get the length right we all bounded into the scrub and got to work looking for the marked trees.  I heard a few machetes thumping into timber and I pushed forward assuming the trees would be relatively well spaced within the boundaries.  I spent 10 or 15 minutes of fruitless searching and then realised I could hear a lot of hacking from the same direction.  There was a cluster of marked trees all in the one spot and I found the thinnest one I could.  Felling it with my machete I soon realised my error: it might be light but it was gnarly and crooked as hell and got lodged in another tree on the way down – and in every bloody tree I passed on the way back to the clearing.

The volunteers checked my tree’s length, painted both ends and sent us back into the scrub in the other direction.  “Take your tree to and follow the marking tape.  Have fun!”.  Smart arse.  What followed was, for me, probably the hardest challenge of the entire race.  Or at least it felt like it at the time.  Dragging a straight log through a thick forest is hard enough, dragging my deformed curse was ridiculous.  Balanced on my shoulder it would catch on a passing tree and bounce off or whack me in the head.  I tried dragging it on the advice of the bloke behind me and it would find a way to lodge itself in a low-hanging fine or pissy little branch.  Like a line of leaf-cutter ants we pushed in and out of swamp-like creek lines, knots of Lantana and bounced like a metronome in and out of loose, eroded gullies.

After an eternity we left the forest and hit a narrow road, the sounds of whacking machetes echoing across a large dam.  Pre-dawn light mixed with the headlights of the support vehicles and volunteers’ head torches as were handed our first bracelet.  Other survival runners were already hard at work, our task being to cut our log into at least four pieces (good riddance you bastard) and tie that to a couple of pieces of thick Bamboo to make a raft.  As an outdoor instructor I’ve helped plenty of helpless kids build rafts out of planks and barrels and as I splashed into the water I realised I’d gained about 10 places.  As I paddled up the lake, apprehensively watching my machete (which I’d strapped to the raft) wobble and my raft slowly work itself loose, I chatted with the safety kayaker and washed my face, taking stock of the race so far:  challenging but achievable.

Pushing my raft into the shallows (through the Nymphaea Gigantea!) and dragging it up the bank we were handed our second bracelet, told to read our next instructions and get moving.  The para-cord could be left on the raft or taken with us, as we wished.  I cut about half off and hit the road.  We were to make a hunting boomerang between here and our next challenge and I rehearsed the under-arm throw in my head while I bounced along the road with my pack (and previously waterproofed clothes, food and first aid supplies) draining of lake water.

Paddling my raft up the dam

Raft building

A tobacco tree beside the road made for an easy target and gave me the asymmetrical boomerang shape I needed long before I hit the next challenge.  Not that it did much good.  I managed to hit the target three or four times in practice but missed by a bees dick all three times after stepping up to the plate.  We could practice as much as we wanted but once we said “go” we had only three attempts.  No bracelet for me!

The sun was well and truly up as Sean sent me on my way.  Trotting down the hill we made our way back towards the Bat Cave.  This section was mostly fire roads and pretty quick travel.  A section of single track spat us out at the river where we’d collected rocks the day before, a nice little homecoming.  Gunnie was there with a “FAIL” necklace to reward us for our labours and then pointed us toward our next challenges.  2^nd and 3^rd place was still here and I was keen to get moving ASAP.  With waxy bladder filled from the tank and loaded with VFuel drink I read the next set of instructions:

Pick a pebble from the bucket.  The colour of the pebble corresponds to one of the Dot Paintings.  Remember your painting well as you’ll need to recreate it later.  Take the pebble, and the rock with your race number that you collected yesterday, and proceed to the next point.  Make sure you’re prepared, it’s a long way to the Tower.

8kms is a damn long way to haul a 57lbs rock!  Hills don’t make life easier.  I left the Bat Cave in 3^rd and watched Dan Lollback in 2^nd place move steadily away from me.  I started with the rock on my right shoulder, swapping occasionally to my weaker left side or holding it with both hands in front of me.  After pushing up a small hill I could hear Nickademus’ words stuck on repeat in my head; “choose the most efficient and effective way through every obstacle”.  So I rolled the rock down the other side of the hill.  Genius! And then the bastard kept going part way into a small creek.  Serves me right for being a smart arse.

We trudged up a long winding hill.  Not super steep but clearly the highest thing around.  If we were heading for a tower, surely it would be at the top of a hill right? Sweet, I must almost be there! The film crew just before the summit very smugly asked if I knew how far we had to carry the rock.  I said that, “no, we weren’t told how far just that we had to get to the tower and that surely it wouldn’t be too much further?”.  Ahuh. Until we walked straight over the top of this hill and down the other side.

Part way down this next hill (Dan well and truly out of sight by now) I was moving the rock behind my head and across to the other shoulder when I lost my grip and dropped it.  I waited for my Achilles to be ripped apart by 22kg of stone… and waited… and waited… The cheeky blighter had gotten stuck on the top of my pack and STAYED THERE!  Boom, what luck?! With both hands now free to support my pack, and without having to stop, drop and swap every 200m, my pace and efficiency increased dramatically.  The rock fell off a few times but I managed to get it seated again and kept pushing on.  A volunteer emerged in the distance and soon after her the “Tower” we’d been promised.  Inside I found Todd Hazelgrove (eventual 3^rd place) who was in first, and Dan in #2, who I’d been chasing for the last 8km.  Todd was just about to leave but now I knew how much lead he had.

The instructions from Jase Cronshaw were to paint our Dot Painting onto our rock.  I come from a family of artists and in the right light I’d probably scrape through as an artist, but my painting was legitimately rubbish.  My first “submission” was failed with the comment that I was neither “Rembrandt nor a biologist”, clearly highlighting my painting was pretty crap.  I had another crack and got a reluctant thumbs-up from Jase, and the bracelet to match.  Onward and upward!

The next challenge was pretty easy, a 5m tree climb to collect a bracelet.  The trees were all narrow, branchless, Stringybark Eucalyptus; very rough to start with but quickly “polished” of their bark.  I watched Dan pick a tree and climb like it was a coconut palm (feet and arms both pushing against the tree for purchase) while I looked around for my own.  I found one about 80cm from another tree and so used both trees and a standard chimney climb technique to grab another bracelet.

Back on the ground we read our next instructions, make a Woomera between here and the next challenge. Dan and I set off at a trot, agreeing to travel together for a while.  This lasted about 3 minutes as we were travelling at different speeds and I stopped to grab a hack out a Woomera fairly early.  I passed Dan as we descended into a rocky creek line and perhaps my favourite part of the course.  It was almost like a small, shallow canyon with steep sides, little rock pools and plenty of ferns, palms, tangled vines and dappled light.  Following this for a kilometre or two we made our way in and out of the creek line before climbing up to a fire trail and pushing back towards the Raft Dam and Sawmill area.

Challenge #6 was another tree climb, though very different to the last.  Two 30-40m Hoop Pines stood in front of us.  Both had bracelets up them.  With massive trunks and heaps of branches, the climbing was very easy but if you’d been afraid of heights this challenge would have been the end of you.  A couple of times on the way up I stopped to look around and make sure I hadn’t gone passed the bracelets.  I finally found them at what seemed about 20-25m above the ground.  With no ropes or safety of any kind, this was probably the sketchiest challenge in the entire event.  While the climbing was very easy and the likelihood of falling very low, the consequences of a fall would have been pretty serious.

Back on the ground I moved straight into the Woomera challenge.  Ideally, a Woomera should be well balanced.  Once connected to the spear, the centre of gravity of both items should be where the spear leaves the Woomera.  I’d left my Woomera long intentionally but testing the weight very quickly I found that I’d fluked the perfect length. I loosed a couple of quick practice shots and then quickly knocked off the challenge before heading out after Todd (1^st place) who’d left a few minutes beforehand.

We crossed a creek and climbed a short but steep lantana slope and turned right onto the road above.  5 or 10 minutes of fast hiking brought me into the Ampitheatre where I could see Todd practicing with the Boomerang.  He was having a dog of a time with it and I arrogantly assumed he hadn’t practiced.  As it turned out, the Boomerangs were just rubbish.  They felt like Balsa wood, light weight and poorly crafted.  I looked for the tell-tale rebate that sits in the palm of the right hand, but no, they were pretty symmetrical; a tourist shop boomerang.  The smallest gust of wind knocked them well off course, even to the point of flipping them over on themselves.  Testing a few angles and getting a feel for how it flew (very poorly!) I stepped up to the plate and managed to knock it off first go.  Luck!

Next up was the “hunting hide”, Survival Run lingo for “dig a hole and cover it with sticks”.  The hole had to be approximately 20cm deep, 70cm wide and 120cm long.  After clearing the grass away with my machete I took down a branch and tried to use it as a pry bar.  Even with a good sized branch it was hard to get enough heft so I reverted to the machete pretty quickly, using it to dig, cut slice and hack my way into the dirt and clay.  Todd had started a few minutes before me but had to leave for a drink during the digging and so I pressed on as fast as I could.

Once I got the all clear that my hide had passed muster I sorted my pack and bladder for the next stage.  Meanwhile, Todd had finished and arrived in time for Sean Meehan to brief us both at the same time.  He explained,

Down that side of the clearing is a line of tall trees.  If you look down the slope, about 500m away you’ll see another line of tall trees.  There are no course markings between here and there, but they resume just before that distant stand.  Get through to it and turn right.

Off we ran, pushing headlong into the scrub.  I started in front but got quickly caught up in Lantana and Todd passed me, having found a better route.  I back tracked and found a more efficient line and passed him again, working my way past a dilapidated old cabin and forcing a path through a bramble of lantana.  I popped out on the road and found the course markings slightly ahead of Todd and hit the bolt, wanting to make as much ground as possible.  I was now in the lead and I wanted to do whatever I could to protect that lead from the unexpected.

Up down and around, the sections between challenges are largely a blur.  Crossing a creek line and climbing onto a road we headed North West (I think?), taking a large counterclockwise loop, running into a parked jeep and three volunteers perhaps 30mins later.  The vollies handed me a piece of Kangaroo meat and an egg, explaining both needed to arrive unscathed at the next challenge.  We also had to collect a Ziploc bag full of Bracken Fern Rhizomes, the part that “runs” between plants.  I wrapped the meat in a large leaf, not wanting it to turn to mush in my pack, and gently wrapped the egg in my THIR band and put it around my head for safe keeping.

Making my way up the hill I noticed the vegetation quickly changing.  Where as the Bracken had been very common a few minutes ago, it quickly thinned out and I dropped my pack and quickly doubled back.  I didn’t think it outside the realm of possibility that the Survival Run Organisers had chosen to place a task that required Bracken fern on a part of the course that had very little of it.

Bracken is quite brittle and if you just pull it out, 9 times out of 10 it will snap off at the root and you’ll loose the Rhizome forever.  Choosing a clump of plants tended to yield more Rhizomes.  If you dig around each stem (with your machete) and softly work the soil between the two, you’ll get a good chunk and in this way I quickly filled my bag.  Todd met me while I was filling my bag and Dan, in third, caught up just as I was finishing.  I explained my fears about the bracken thinning out as you climbed higher, though in retrospect they were unfounded and I passed loads of it before hitting the next challenge point.  Sorry fellas!

A swampy creekline led to the next point and I moved slowly, concerned about snakes.  I could tell the Trail Runners had been through before me, but didn’t know how long ago and so kept my eyes peeled.  Coming down onto a little beach, I could see staff and volunteers on the other side of the dam but the course markings disappeared.  The crew beckoned me across the water and so I jumped in and side-stroked across, my bag once again filling with mucky soot.

On the other side the volunteers (thanks Ian Cowan and Michelle Wyndham) explained the next challenge; harvest a waterlily tuber and then cook your bush tucker (egg, kangaroo meat, tuber) on the fire they’d been nursing.  I found a tuber and cleaned it up, skewering this and the meat on a stick and placing them over the coals.  While they cooked I made a little bowl out of wet waterlily leaves and cracked the egg in this, resting on yet more coals.  The skewers cooked very quickly but the eggs took a lot longer and only just passed Josue’s judgement.

With food cooked, next was the ember carry.  I’d practiced this in training and failed on 4 of 4 attempts to keep the ember burning for very long.  I cut some bark and made some tinder, grabbing a coal from the fire and wrapping it all up with para cord.  Things were made more difficult by the fact that the location we had to carry the fire to was back across the dam.  Great!  We had to swim across with the ember bundle protected and then use it to light a fire.

Assuming the course would continue on that side once we got a fire going, I strapped my pack on and swam back across, keeping one arm high out of the water.  Nope, apparently the course continued where I’d just swam from, so even if I got it going I’d have to swim back across with my pack, again.  I clambered out of the muck, found some dry grass and set to starting a fire.  Shane McKay was there holding a small tarp over our fire pit.  As soon as I opened my bundle I could tell things were grim.  The embers were almost cold to touch and furious blowing brought no heat or warmth.  Shit.

Determined to crack this one, I cleared a 2^nd go with Shane and swam back across, keeping my now-cold ember bundle out of the water and dry.  I didn’t want to have to make another one!  This time got a few handfuls of dried grass and waved them over the fire to ensure they were as dry as possible.  It had started raining while I was cooking the Bush Tucker and things were quickly getting  wet.  Creating a nest in the bark bundle for coals, I shovelled a few more in, this time choosing the largest I could reasonably fit into the bark wrap.

Todd and Dan arrived as I was getting back into the water for my 2^nd attempt, but I forgot about them and focused on keeping the bundle dry.  Every 6-8 strokes I would blow into the bundle to keep up some airflow.  Back out of the water I quickly unwrapped the embers and got to work.  Shane was there, softly spoken and confident, saying he only needed to see the smallest of flames.  He again held up a small tarp to keep the rain off and, ignoring the smoke inhalation, I finally managed to get the sucker alight.  BOOM! I MADE FIRE!  Pack on, swim done and onto the next challenge!  A special thanks to Shane for being such a calming influence during this challenge.

Knowing I had a reasonable lead, I stopped to pull a few engorged leeches from my shins and tried to pick up the pace.  I’d guessed that was about the last challenge in this, the 3^rd quarter, and was keen to bring it home.  So far each quarter had been roughly the same length and difficulty.  Sean had even suggested at the Ampitheatre that the event was “roughly divided into quarters”.  Smart arse; I should have known they’d save the best to last.

Arriving back at basecamp with a 20-30-minute lead, I was given the 3^rd medal and told to prepare myself to go back out.  The vollie with the medals had them all tangled so I filled up my water and rearranged my pack, adding some more VFuel drink to the mix and putting a couple of gels in my pocket.  Ready to go, Gunny took me aside and handed me a map.  “Read this”, she said.

“Here are your instructions.  Read them and make sure you understand.  The only clue I can give you is that Muddy Dam is the first place we went”.

Loosely, the instructions read something like this:

1. The final medal is buried somewhere on course
2. You are required to navigate your way to challenge sites you’ve already been to:
   1. Muddy Dam
   2. Tallowood Dam (sp?)
   3. Sawmill
   4. Airstrip
   5. Tower
3. At these sites there are message sticks carved with local indigenous symbols. They’ll be easily visible.
4. You must travel to these sites IN ORDER and carve the symbols you find into your own message stick. THIS IS MANDATORY.
5. These symbols are clues to the location of the final piece of the medal
6. You must visit at least 4 sites before collecting the final piece, even if you’ve guessed where it is earlier. If you know where the final piece is after finding 4 pieces, you may skip #5 (Tower) and proceed directly to its location.
7. You can go anywhere on course, cross boundary tape, ignore markings, follow tracks or go cross country.

With these instructions written on a low-res, poorly printed satellite photo which was overlayed with a “track” of some description, we were sent on Walkabout.  Just like its namesake Aboriginal Rite of Passage, Walkabout for us was a significant step up in difficulty and independence.  The course marked on the map was not explained, though I think it was the 50km route.  Other roads and trails weren’t marked and so navigating by the marked trail alone was very difficult.  How would you know you where you were on course? While there were a few landmarks easily identifiable, such as the Start/Finish point and the paved public road that formed the eastern property boundary, placing ourselves on the map was the first challenge.

Trying to orient the map to my surroundings, I immediately headed in the wrong direction.  It only took a couple of minutes to realise this and it gave me some clarity, or so I thought.  Turning around, one of the vollies dumped a GPS Tracker in my pack. I rejoined the trail I’d run in on about 20 minutes earlier, taking a slight detour to the south, tramping up a grassy slope and then rejoining a road.  It felt wrong but I followed it anyway, looking and listening for clues.  I saw some course markings and recognised the trail I was on, but it didn’t seem to be leading in the right direction.  After a couple of kilometres and 20-30 minutes I turned around and tried to recover.

Heading back to the start, I thought again that I’d worked out where I was.  Things still weren’t making a lot of sense, but I was skilfully committing the cardinal sin of navigation; making the landscape fit my expectations rather than adjusting my view in response to my surroundings.  Cutting across a small spur, I hit another trail and this time thought I was on to a winner.  I followed it West and uphill, hitting a very sharp, hard right hand turn.  AWESOME! There was one of these clearly marked on the map and it was where I needed to be.

When we’d started pre-dawn, we’d all trooped off in a torch-lit snake, without much peripheral awareness.  The first dam I could remember arriving at was where we’d built our raft; Tallowood Dam.  This was large and easily identifiable, with a couple of small buildings at one end.  I’d assumed this was the point we were looking for and so spent a lot of time trying to find it.  Taking the sharp right hand turn, I heard a bird taking flight from a body of water, but there was NO WAY it was big enough to be Tallowood.  I followed the road, getting further and further away from the sound, eventually hitting a beautiful section of single track that spat me out by the small creek at the start/finish line.  Dumbshit.

Taking stock, berating myself and trying to reset things, I reoriented the map to some power lines and the Bat Cave and this time decided I’d straight line it and ignore tracks and course markings.  Even if it slowed me down, accuracy was more important right?  With the all the confidence of the desperate and anxious, I immediately set off into a thicket of Lantana.  And almost 90 degrees in the wrong direction. Again.  This lasted another 15-20 minutes.

Okay.  This is stupid.  By this time, I’d realised it wasn’t Tallowood dam I was looking for at all. Dumbshit. I still didn’t remember having been to another dam, but the sound of the bird taking off an hour before gave me hope.  I worked my way back to the sharp right hand turn marked on the map and, ignoring where I’d turned before, walked another 150m to the South West and immediately recognised a point from this morning’s trail.  Just before the log cut challenge, we’d come out of the scrub at one point, followed a road, and then turned a hard right.  I remembered it clearly because I’d seen lights below me and thought people must have gone off course.  I called to them before I realised they were, in fact, running down a road just below the one we were on.

Taking the turn, excitement building, I started down the road and immediately saw Todd coming up toward me.  I yelled to him, “this is Muddy Dam, isn’t it?”, “yeah, but it’s not here” he yelled back (or something along those lines.  He’d been to the dam and was now convinced the Message Stick wasn’t there.  He said something about heading for the other dam, confused as I was about Emilie’s clue.  Confident I’d finally found it, I continued down and wished him luck.  After a quick search I quickly found the first message stick on the other side of the dam and carved it into my own.  The symbol was “Digging Sticks”, if I remember correctly.  Having finally confirmed where I was on the map (at least 2hours since I’d set out!), the rest should have been relatively straight forward.

BOOM! Bring it on. I set off at a lope, found the trail and with renewed confidence headed straight there.  In my haste I’d assumed the “Dropped Pin” symbols on the map, and not the Printed Place Names, represented the location of the message sticks.  Maybe this had been the case at Muddy Dam, but it took another ridiculously stupid mistake to prove this wrong.  Heading for Tallowood Dam South, I found a road heading in a straight line for the point and gambled that it would be a time-saving shortcut.  As expected, it spat me out just across the water (about 10m) from where we’d beached our rafts and been given our next task.  I swam across, expecting to find the message stick on the beach.  It wasn’t there so I headed up the trail away from the lake for the exact point the pin point hit the map.  Nope… still nothing.  Swearing and cursing, I ran up and down the track a couple of times before giving up in desperation returning to the map.  YOU BLOODY IDIOT!  The list of message stick locations said TALLOWOOD DAM, not TALLOWOOD DAM SOUTH.  The Dropped Pins meant NOTHING.

By this point I was sure that that the guys behind me weren’t idiots, hadn’t made as many mistakes as me and so had already knocked it off.  I pushed on regardless, quickly finding Tallowood Dam, the Sawmill and the Airstrip.  I now had carvings that read: Digging Sticks; Dancing Ladies; Meeting Place, and; Forest Clearing.  I’d started to put the clues together and was reading to take another gamble:  Tower was a long way away and I was pretty confident I knew where the final Medal was; back at the finish line.

My logic went a little like this:

1. Digging Sticks was a reference to the instructions, that the final piece was “buried” on course.
2. Meeting Place meant Start/Finish, where we’d all met, been briefed, got our packets etc.
3. Forest Clearing could be any forest clearing and the Bat Cave was certainly in a large cleared area
4. Dancing Ladies meant people celebrating the completion of this epic journey, and they’d all be at the Start/Finish.
5. Surely they’d want the crews and support people, those here to cheer, to witness the completion of the event???

If I was right, I’d save myself a heap of time and could probably still save the win.  If not, I’d lose any chance of the podium but at least I’d still finish.  Finding out that the medal was NOT at the finish line would at least help me narrow down my options.  However, there was one nagging thought in my mind:

If I got to the finish line, and “discovered” or “dug up” the medal, how would the RD keep this a secret from other competitors?  How would they prevent other runners from picking up on this “clue” as they gave them the final Walkabout Briefing and set of instructions?

I didn’t know how they were going to manage this but figured they’d have thought of a way.  Besides, Tower was too far away for the final piece of the medal and surely Amphitheatre, where we’d used “Digging Sticks” to dig a Hunting Hide was FAR TOO OBVIOUS?  Plus, there were no DANCING LADIES there, last time I checked…

Committing to the gamble, I took the shortest route back to the Bat Cave.  It was still probably a good 3-4km and lead me via some single track back down to the river where we’d collected our stones.  I crossed the river and ran up the field, stopping short of the assembled crowd to talk to Josue and Emilie.

“Have you worked it out?” asked Emilie.

“Yeah, I think so.” I replied

“Prove it” she said, “show me.”  I took out my Message Stick and showed them the symbols I’d carved into it.  I’d rubbed dirt into each one to make it stand out from the light coloured timber.

“It’s here”, I prayed, “it’s buried here, at the finish line”.

I watched the hope fall from Emilie’s eyes, or perhaps she was thinking “oh shit, you idiot.”  Either way, Josue took me aside and asked me to explain the clues I’d collected.  I ran him through my logic and reasoning while it quickly became evident that I’d screwed up.  He started to talk me through each clue, prompting me to think about it.

“Ok, stop.” I said, “just tell me if it’s here or not”.

“It’s not here.” He said, and with that I hit the bolt.

Anxious that he’d give it away and somehow accidentally (or intentionally) disqualify me, I knew I needed to get back out there before I gave it any more thought or let fatigue slow me down.  Thinking about the clues, and the way Josue had stressed his questions, I realised there was only one option: Ampitheatre.  SHIT.  The only point further away was Tower. I’d have to go twice as far again as I’d just travelled from Airstrip. The bloody dancing ladies looked like Boomerangs. urrgh.

Running out of the Bat Cave, I heard my girlfriend Kellie Emmerson and good mate Matty Bell yelling at me from the car park.  Kellie had flown up today and I was glad to know she’d made it.  Matty was also in the race and, if he were here, it must mean that he’d pulled out, or been pulled out.  Shit, no time to think about that now.  I also noticed (or at least thought) that Dan Lollback was being interviewed on camera.  That could only mean one thing: I’d wasted so much time that he’d passed me and finished, probably in first given I couldn’t see anyone else.  I was now fighting to finish, having lost any chance of a podium place.

I headed up the hill toward the hard right-hand turn and Muddy Dam for the third time.  Looking at the map, the most direct route would be to cut along the power lines, hit a trail and take that directly North West to the Amphitheatre.  I got to the top of the lines and things looked good.  Trails, if not roads, are normally maintained below power lines to allow for maintenance and to prevent fires.  I was relying on it.  I turned off the road and followed the lines. The area was devoid of trees, as expected, but there was some bracken and other undergrowth.  Running along a good piece of single track, the I quickly started to descend into some thicker scrub.  The single track was still there, but disappearing quickly.

Pushing on I dropped down a 2m cutting onto an old road and dived further into the thicket.  I was desperate and the idea that this, too, was a stupid mistake was affecting my judgement.  Finally, caught in a clump of Lantana, I admitted defeat.  There was no way I could get through to the other side without tearing myself to shreds and losing more time.  Daylight was starting to fail and I was pushing hard to be done before dark.  I turned around and hiked back up the hill, out of breath and berating myself once again. Nice shortcut dumbshit.

Back on the road the navigation was easy and I could run.  I soon passed Tallowood lake and a few guys carving symbols into their sticks.  I said something about my being a halfwit and wished them luck, climbing up to the sawmill yet again.  I ran passed the small dam where we’d cooked our Bush Tucker and made an Ember Bundle, and was noticed by Ian Cowan and one of the Vollies.  Still convinced I’d screwed everything up I replied “devastated” when Ian asked how I was.  I continued up the hill, running where I could but mostly hiking, passed the old shearing shed (I think) and toilet block and pelted down into the amphitheatre.

Our instructions had said that only the final point would be staff, so when I saw firelight I knew I’d finally got it right!  Entering the clearing I saw Sean and ran straight to him, at least I wasn’t going to DNF now!!!  He asked for my message stick and I passed it over, highlighting the four symbols that entitled me to be here.  “Congratulations”, he said, “you’ve found the final piece of the medal.”  FINALLY!  “It’s buried in a hole dug by your own hand”, meaning the Hunting Hide, “and you just need to collect it.”

Casually dropping my pack, by now driving me completely crazy, I asked him how many people had come in before me?  “None.  You’re the first”, he said calmly in his strong Irish accent.  “What the F@CK? Are you serious or are you messing with me”, I said. “Nope, you’re the first. But the race isn’t over until you get back to the finish.”  DAMN!  Dan being interviewed back at the start must have been for DNF’ing… I sprinted to the hide and found a heap of “NOT” medals laying in our painfully dug holes.  I’d spent the better part of two to three hours convincing myself that I was the guy with the massive lead who’d then screwed it all up and here I was being handed another chance.  There was no way I was going to blow it again!

The film crew asked me a couple of quick questions about how it felt, how I felt and so forth. “This race was designed to be impossible to complete.” They said.  “Sorry.” I replied sarcastically and ran off.  I passed Todd a few minutes later and this gave me an extra hurry up.  I figured in a game of straight out running I had his measure, so long as I didn’t get lost or screw up again.

I retraced my steps, aware that there were probably shortcuts around but not wanting to take any more gambles.  Back via the Bush Tucker Dam, Sawmill, Tallowood and up the hill toward Muddy Dam.  I ran past what I knew to be the turn off as there was a shorter way, but just as I was taking the necessary turn I saw a sign that said “No Entry”. DAMN IT…What do I do…ok, no gambling, head back down via Muddy Dam and go that way.  It’s longer but it’s guaranteed.

At about the same time I’d seen a light and had a distant, yelled conversation with another runner.  I didn’t pay too much attention to them, deeply focused on my own gig, but later found out it was Todd.  He must have taken a few of those other shortcuts and, right now, he was in the process of getting turned around.  If his navigation had been better at this one decisive point, he’d have beaten me no question.  I’d had to put my head torch on at Amphitheatre so now I ran with tunnel vision.  Passing the message stick beside Muddy Dam, now lit up by glow sticks, woke me up and I started to reflect on the day.  NO TIME FOR THAT, YOU’RE NOT HOME YET!

Hike up the hill on the other side of the dam. Find the trail junction. Run as much of the downhill trail back to the Bat Cave as possible.  How much would it suck to miss out by a minute or less because you were too soft to run harder and push through the pain?  A DAMN LOT!  RUN MORE!  And so I did, hitting the grassy clearing, crossing the creek, trotting up the finish shoot, surrounded by a group of silent people.  Weirdos.  I pulled the “NOT” medal from under my shirt and showed it to Emilie and Josue.  Emilie took my hand and said “repeat after me. I. DID. NOT. FAIL!!!”.  Our hands raised, I yelled those four words with as much grunt and mock Spartan Melodrama as I could, my hoarse voice adding to the effect.  The crowd, now finally allowed to cheer, did exactly that.  My girlfriend ignored my leech-bitten, mud-encrusted, bleeding, sweat-stained state and gave me a big hug and kiss.  Whoa, this must be serious!

With a beer in hand, I said a few slurred words and dropped down into a chair to catch my breath and collect myself.  Kellie explained that there were a couple others hot on my tail and that they’d been watching three trackers wing it for the finish: mine, Todd’s and someone else’s.  Damn it had been close.  Jeffrey Pritchard took 2^nd place and finished about 5 minutes behind me and Todd, in 3^rd, finished only a few minutes behind him.

Survival Run Australia Podium Getters – Jeffrey Pritchard, Tegyn Angel and Todd Hazelgrove

— END —

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In the news this month we’ve got a few interesting tidbits to share:  We reveal a new Custom THIR project, we talk about a few little changes we’re making over the next few weeks, we introduce some new products to our store and THIR athlete and director, Kellie Emmerson, tells us about her cracking win at the recent Oxfam Trailwalker Melbourne.

Icebug Australia Custom THIRbands

Welcome to Australia, Icebug!  Who the hell are Icebug?  Well, Icebug is the official shoe of the Obstacle Course Racing (OCR) World Championships and a world leader in Trail Running and OCR footwear.  The company started as a result of some restless Swedes wanting to be able to stay active year-round in Swedish conditions.  The end result is a range of shoes for running and other activities that deliver outstanding traction through a unique grip technology.

Icebug Australia have commissioned a Custom THIRband that will be used for promo activities, event prizes and for generally looking damn fine.  You’re likely to see these being sported by the Australian Icebug OCR and Trail team and will soon be available for sale in our shop.

Icebug Australia THIRBand

Icebug Australia pre-sales

Here at THIR Australia and Wildplans our mission is simple:

To bring colourful, innovative products to the Australian market which have been designed and produced with trailrunners, obstacle course racers, hikers, mountainbikers and outdoors-people in mind.

In keeping with this mission, we’re happy to announce that as of now, not only can you pre-order custom Icebug THIRbands from our shop, but you can all pre-order the Icebugs themselves! That’s right, we’re selling shoes  Stock is currently sailing it’s way from Scandinavia to Australia, enduring tough seas and climate change, and is expected to hit our warehouse late May.  Because we know waiting sucks, we’re offering 10% off the RRP for all pre-orders made before April 30 and free postage after that.

Our Shop & Blog are moving!

This is kind of ironic given the virtual nature of our shop but, nonetheless, we’re on the move!  Some of you may already know that THIR Australia is part of Wildplans.  Wildplans organises and leads Trailrunning Tours and Expeditions to areas of incredible, mindblowing, trailrunning heaven that we’ve identified around the world.  Australia’s Larapinta Trail, Chile’s Patagonia/Torres del Paine and East Timor’s Central Highlands to name a few.  Wildplans also produces imagery and video, as seen in Trail Run Mag AU/NZ and on YouTube.  Our video “Darkness” has reached almost 140k views; damn unexpected to say the least!

As we look to expand our product range with awesome new products we believe that moving the store over to Wildplans.com will better reflect our direction.  We’ll still stock our awesome range of THIRbands and keep on keeping your skin healthy and chafe-free with Sweet Cheeks.  The ONLY things that will change are that a) the store will be co-branded Wildplans and b) if you click your way through to the shop from thir.com.au you’ll find you’re redirected www.wildplans.com.  SO, if you’re visiting thir.com.au and find that on clicking the “shop” button you’re sent over to www.wildplans.com…. don’t worry! You haven’t been hijacked, we’re just walking you over to our new premises.

Likewise, we’ll soon be moving our blog across to Wildplans too.  We’ll shift your subscription so you don’t have to do a thing.  You’ll continue to receive our updates as before.  If you decide you’d like to

Oxfam Trailwalker Melbourne 2015

A few weeks ago saw the 2015 edition of the Oxfam Trailwalker Melbourne.  Once again, Kellie Emmerson, Samantha Gash, Nikki Wynd and Deanna Blegg took to the trails to defend their title and prove that the girls can mix it with the lads.  Last year they blitzed home 2nd overall, first female team and in the process set a new course record.  With a reversed course this year things could have gone either way but, with a host of new sponsors helping them raise money for Oxfam, they stormed home to again take 2nd overall, first female team and set a new course record.

Here’s a few words from Kellie just after the event:

Today marked my 5th Oxfam and 3yrs running with the [Sam] Gash! The sun shone bright all day, the autumn leaves lit up the sky, and things went to plan! It was a great team effort- very proud of the girls who stuck it out through some tough patches. Huge thanks to our crew Tegyn Angel, Mathieu Doré, Amanda Steidle, our sponsors She Science and Turbo Superfoods. Thanks also for the gear Liquido Active and 2XU Australia, and to all of our other supporters following our journey today. Thanks to the awesome Olivia and Simon [Ferraro] for tagging along with the crew and ringing that bell with might! Thanks to my fam, the RITB gang and the andy’s for coming down to the finish line! Congrats to teams 456 and foley’s list -always love the banter along the way! And good luck to those teams toughing it out in the cold tonight!

Congratulations to Kellie and all the girls for an awesome run!  While donations to the girls’ team have closed, Oxfam are always in need of donations and you can rest assured these go toward awesome causes! Donate here: https://www.oxfam.org.au/donate/

Torres del Paine (Patagonia) Trailrunning Expedition

Patagonia is one of the most awe-inspiring, raw, visually astounding places we’ve ever seen. So close to the Magellan Strait, Cape Horn and Antarctica, wind-sculpted and weather-beaten, Torres Del Paine is the most impressive part of an incredible landscape.  The trip starts with the best accommodation and food Puerto Natales has to offer.  You wont want to leave the stunning Remota Hotel but the views and hospitality at Hotel Rio Serrano are definitely on par.  Our adventure continues with a gentle run along an undulating trail arriving at Refugio Paine Grande by lunch before an out-and-back to Mirador (lookout) Grey, overlooking the incredible Glacier Grey and the lake it feeds with Icebergs.

Remota Hotel, Puerto Natales

The next few days will take us counter-clockwise along the famous “W” trail, one of the worlds greatest hiking trails, before we head into the remote northern half of the Torres del Paine circuit. After passing through Los Perros and crossing John Gardner pass we’ll drop down toward Refugio Grey, running parallel to Glacier Grey that we saw all those days ago. Tomorrow is our last day on the trail and we’ll start by strapping on the crampons and hiking out onto the glacier itself before taking a boat to the three towering heads of Glacier Grey and then back down the lake to the incredible Hotel Grey.  Another night at Remota will round out the experience and etch Patagonia firmly in your mind.

Trail Running Torres del Paine

Wildplans, in collaboration with our mates at Tour de Trails are sending our first Guided Trailrunning Adventure to the Torres del Paine National Park in Chilean Patagonia, October 2015.  Departing ex Punta Arenas on the 16th of October, returning back to Punta Arenas on the 25th of October, this is an all-inclusive, luxury trailrunning tour of one of the world’s most incredible landscapes.  For more information check out the details here: Trailrunning Torres del Paine

Remota Hotel, Puerto Natales

The Larapinta Trail from Cooks Point

LARAPINTA

Welcome to the New Year! 2015 is already shaping up to be an awesome year here at Wildplans. Together with Tour de Trails we’ve got some awesome itineraries on the schedule for you.

Our first Larapinta Trail tour departs Alice Springs on the 14th of May and we have a private Larapinta trip booked the week after. These are both using the semi-permanent, luxe campsites managed by the highly regarded World Expeditions. The food is exquisite local produce and we’ve picked the best mix of challenge and beauty the trail has to offer.

Patagonia will welcome us in November with a high-luxe itinerary departing Punta Arenas for the incredible Torres del Paine on the 16th of October. This place will blow you away! Incredible small-group trail running, amazing accommodation and that “end of the earth” feeling you rarely experience anywhere else.

In April we’re off to Timor Leste (East Timor) to recce a new trip that will take in the incredible high country ridgelines and unbelievably friendly locals, while our sister outfit Tour de Trails recently advertised their first trip to Bhutan with Trail Goddess Anna Frost.

Happy New Year!!!

BOOK HERE

BOOK HERE

PATAGONIA

Patagonia is one of the most awe-inspiring, raw, visually astounding places we’ve ever seen.  So close to the Magellan Strait, Cape Horn and Antarctica, wind-sculpted and weather-beaten, Torres Del Paine is the most impressive part of an incredible landscape.

BOOK HERE

Starting with gentle run along an undulating trail, we’ll arrive at Refugio Paine Grande by lunch before an out-and-back to Mirador (lookout) Grey, overlooking the incredible Glacier Grey and the lake it feeds with Icebergs.

The next few days will take us counter-clockwise along the famous “W” trail, one of the worlds best hiking trails, before we head into the remote northern half of the Torres del Paine circuit.

After passing through Los Perros and crossing John Gardner pass we’ll drop down toward Refugio Grey, running parallel to Glacier Grey that we saw all those days ago.  Tomorrow is our last day on the trail and we’ll start with a hike along the glacier itself before taking a boat to the three heads of the glacier and then back down the lake to the incredible Hotel Grey.

BOOK HERE

TIMOR LESTE (EAST TIMOR)

From the highest point in Timor Leste, Mt Tatamailau (aka Ramelau), we’ll descend rugged ridgelines, summit the incredible Mt Cailaco and make our way to the spectacular coastline of the fiercely independent, unique East Timor.

FIND OUT MORE

Rocbloc

In our first post on The Cottage Renaissance, we discussed what the whole Cottage movement means and why we love it. In our second post we looked at Cactus, a relatively large small business employing a good number of Kiwis and making a broad range of products. In our third and most recent post we covered Thir, a small but ambitious little company, also from New Zealand, currently making great headwear and with grand designs to release a range of quality products.

Unintentionally, we’ve gone from one end of the Cottage industry to the other, from fairly large production to relatively tiny. As RocBloc is a side project, Ms Macquire is perfectly happy to let the orders trickle in without feeling as if she needs to take over the world. RocBloc is a one-woman garage band, supported by a sewing machine, a lot of bright fabrics and the satisfaction that comes from personally fulfilling every order. Cathy says she still gets a buzz talking to customers about how they intend to use her gaiters: whether in an upcoming race, on their home trails or on a big adventure.

But this is the whole point, isn’t it? That products and profits are not prioritised over developing sound and ethical relationships with customers? That it’s vitally important to ensure that both parties are satisfied with the transaction, rather than one cleaning up at the expense of the other? While I’m shamelessly fond of quoting Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged, when it comes to questions of economics and ethics I can hardly think of more appropriate source material. In his monologue on the fundamental morality of Money, Francisco D’Anconia argues that,

“Money demands that you sell, not your weakness to men’s stupidity, but your talent to their reason; it demands that you buy, not the shoddiest they offer, but the best that your money can find. And when men live by trade—with reason, not force, as their final arbiter—it is the best product that wins, the best performance, the man of best judgment and highest ability [.]”

Okay, so it’s almost impossible to cite Rand’s Romanticism without sounding sensational, but the point is in there somewhere. Of course I’m not suggesting that Salomon, Outdoor Research or Inov-8 are using force and threat to pressure us into buying shoddy gaiters against our better judgement. Rather, I’m arguing that a truly equitable buyer-seller relationship needs to be two-sided with both parties trading value: On one hand, a representation of effort and time in the form of money, for the equal effort and time of another. The Cottage school of trade relies on this understanding, without which producers would quickly go out of business and customers would rarely even make it to the party; it’s just too niched. Larger manufactures tend to drift away from this foundation as they grow, shipping production offshore and steadily delegating increasingly smaller areas of responsibility to ever growing numbers of employees or contractors.

Okay, back to reality. I’ve personally used RocBloc for a lot of training runs and in a number of Ultra Trail Races. I bought a pair after I heard about them at a Trails+ race in 2012 and not much has changed since then – after all, what’s there to change? The attraction of a set of RocBloc gaiters is in their simplicity; the only option you have is colour/pattern. Sure, they could do with some reinforcement where the lace-ring is connected to the gaiter and some additional Velcro on the sides might help keep even more grit out but RocBloc gaiters are a great product handmade by a person we can talk to and relate with.

While there are loose plans to produce both taller gaiters designed for Sand Running and Running Skirts, whether these will come to be or not is unsure. Does it matter? No. Not really. Miss Macquire’s product is the running gaiter and unless footwear hits the market with included gaiters we’re likely to continue to need some way to keep the trail out of our shoes whereas every athletic-wear company I can think of, from Nike to GoLite, The North Face to 2XU, Salomon to Lulu Lemon produce running-friendly skirts. Sure longer gaiters would be a treat (Snow Running, anyone?), but we’ll get by in the mean time.

A rough edit we made while experimenting with the new template features of GoPro Studio.

***FKT Submission***
http://fastestknowntime.proboards.com/thread/453/tiger-leaping-gorge-yunnan-province

***Trail: Tiger Leaping Gorge in Yunnan Province. China. There is some debate about where the trail ends but I turned around at the point most hikers do and where the trail joins the road. That is, I started at Jane’s Guesthouse in Qiatou and turned around at Tina’s Guesthouse, returning via the Same route. :While the trail continues for a few more days. most hikers appear to turn around at Tina’s. That said, these trails are ancient trade routes and Start and Finish points seem no less Arbitrary than the ones that convention suggests.

l researched the trail and gained information from the following sources:
Lonely Planet, China
www.everytrail.com/view_trip.php?trip_id=372310
tiger-leaping-gorge.com/index.html
withoutbaggage.com/essays/china-tiger-leaping-gorge/
www.trailrunnermag.com/destinations/international/44-running-chinas-tiger-leaping-gorge

The latter is the only reference I could find re running the trail as a standalone. The Author, Catherine Bowdry, claims 4.5hrs for the route, though specifics are scarce. from reading her piece it would suggest she ran downhill (i.e. the 2nd half of my run) but I couldn’t establish where she started or finished.

Finally, this event appears to traverse the trail, but as part of a larger event, and I’ve been unable to determine whether anyone recorded their time for that section of the course. www.actionasiaevents.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=127:racereportlj12&catid=3:general-stories

***Style: Self Supported. That is, I started with food and water and purchased more liquids along the way.

***Claim: I completed the Out-and-back run via the aforementioned route in 9hrs 23mins. I recorded the route via two GPS devices (Garmin eTrex30 and Suunto Ambit). I’ve attached the eTrex GPX file (Ambit is too large given higher interval recording rate). Both devices give different distances/elevations but clearly show the same route and time of recording intervals.

***Photos: are available online here – scenery and selfies: www.flickr.com/photos/wildplans/sets/72157634909108629/

Matty Abel during the 2013 Nortburn100

 THIR is based in the South Island of New Zealand, a breeding ground for awesome people, epic adventures and great gear. Indeed, looking at the manufacturers included in this series, the Aussies have some catching up to do! THIR stands for “That’s How I Roll”, and this stands as a clear representation of the Company’s philosophy.  “Developed by athletes for athletes of all abilities, THIR is about giving life a go, whether to win or to simply participate and complete the event, and ticking off milestones. Small bites at a time is our motto, to always challenge yourself to be that little bit better. Life is too short.”

Matty Abel wearing a THIR Band during Australia’s Big Red Run.

Seen on the heads of Professional Ultrarunners like Matty Abel, Shona Stephenson, Grant Guise and Shannon Leigh, THIR’s first product is a seamless, multi-functional headband. Available in a range of bright, fun patterns, there’s enough variety to keep you hallucinating well into the night, while the techy Enduracool fabric “controls moisture, is fast drying and keeps the sweat from your eyes” without being hot and bulky. I’ve also used mine to keep my head warm on early morning runs, as a face-mask while climbing volcanoes, as a lens cloth for sunglasses and cameras and as a night-mask for long flights.

Crazy THIR Patterns

While this series of posts on Cottage Manufacturers is a great opportunity for us to talk about the products we love and use, the point is more to emphasise their uniqueness and how smaller producers differ from the big companies. So what the hell does that mean?

I first heard about THIR at the Northburn 100 race registration, where we were given a free THIR Band given THIR’s position as an event sponsor. Not long after Virginia Winstone was introducing the race and talking about her experience last year, and telling us about the birth of the company. So far so good? 12hrs later we were lined up at the start of the race, toeing the line and breathing in the excitement and nervous anticipation of what we were about to do. Less than an hour later and some odd-ball comes running back onto the course out of the Grape Vines of the Northburn Station Vineyards, having mistakenly followed another group of runners determined to get lost. We spoke for a while and I soon worked out who she was. Not only was THIR sponsoring the event, but the woman behind THIR was out there running it – 160kms of desolate mountains. It is this sort of involvement in the community, this ongoing conversation between producer and consumer that distinguishes the cottage movement.

While it might sound like a nostalgic, bucolic cliché, to compare this situation to the interaction between village tradespeople of the pre-20th century, we shouldn’t forget that this was a very important part of (particularly) European cultures for many centuries. It formed the foundation of our economy and had an influence on our social structures that’s hard to exaggerate. Seeing Virginia running alongside me at Northburn, proudly wearing her THIR products and testing a set of trekking poles is akin to a blacksmith developing a new set of alloy or a new product, testing them himself and then trading his services with other Journeymen of the region; Bakers, Stonemasons, Carpenters, Cobblers, Lumberjacks, Baristas ( ? ). Each understood that they were part of a tribe and would never have contemplated accepting work without an honest conversation with their customers, a fair assessment of their needs and a realistic portrayal of the tradesman’s abilities. Ok, so I’m pushing it, but you get the picture.

 THIR understands this and recognise that, “[a]t the heart of our decisions are our clients, our end users. We try to listen to the market through the people doing the sports we are involved in.” The big brands, says Virginia, “tend to only be superficially involved in events, I think that the consumers are wise to this. THIR doesn’t just stand on the sidelines, we like to roll up our sleeves and get stuck in!” If you follow THIR or Virginia on Facebook, you’ll no doubt know the this is the truth. We’re constantly impressed at where they’re going, what events they’re involved in, and how genuine the communication is. Sure, there’s promotion involved, but the content is genuine.

THIR Band product shot

So what’s next? The line of THIR Bands is out there, field tested and proving the concept. THIR provide options for customers to customise the prints on the headwear, working on a one-on-one basis to develop patterns and meet customer needs. For example, they’re currently working on an ANZAC-inspired design for the 2015 ANZAC Ultramarathon. Away from their headbands, THIR have a few other products in the pipeline, such as lightweight poles specifically developed for running. I’ve had the pleasure of testing a set of these and things are looking good! However, there’s no sense of impatience at THIR. They want to get things right and are willing to go the distance (!) to ensure they do just that. Bring it on!

Cactus WK Supertrousers

Tough is one thing, but there’s much more to Cactus than bulked-up fabrics, upholstery-weight threads and extreme durability. Cactus started in Wellington, New Zealand and has been in business since 1992. They moved to Christchurch in the late 90’s so the Outdoors-obsessed staff could be closer to the Southern Alps, a move that clearly highlights the Company’s priorities. The first products to sport the Cactus label were Chalk Bags for climbers, but packs soon followed and the rest is history.  All their kit is still made in their independent factories in New Zealand where employee rights, environmental ethics and support for the local community are taken just as seriously as their bottom line.

I personally own a couple of packs, a pair of gloves, six pairs of pants, a jacket and a wallet made by cactus; The stuff is incredible. There’s a no-frills, function over form ethos at Cactus that has allowed them to produce bombproof gear that is aesthetically appealing precisely because of its simplicity. While their uncompromising approach to quality and durability is legendary, they admit that, when it comes to product development, “it is impossible to please everyone all of the time, so we sometimes we have to make hard calls.” It is the nature of Niche production that even though “sometimes the products are great … the markets for them are just so small that we would go out of business trying to keep them in stock. It’s a constant juggling act, but lots of fun.”

Unlike some of the new craftspeople in this series, Cactus has been around for a long time. They’ve got a long history of supplying the trades and this has given them a solid and reliable customer base and allowed them to feed a lot of the R&D required by their wholesale customers into the development of their retail lines. This relationship is clearly presented on their website, where users can easily navigate between recreational and industry-focused products.

Cactus Foray Pack

We asked Cactus about how they view their customer relationship and in true, straight down the line, Kiwi fashion they responded by saying that “It helps when you genuinely like your customers. We don’t get it right every time, but we’re working on it.” They recognise that their market is limited and fickle and that a lot of people prefer a huge range of colour and style options to “ locally made, well-designed, durable stuff”, if even if they claim otherwise. They stay true to their roots and are enduring in Christchurch in spite of how shaky things have been around there over the last few years.  Knowing your niche is incredibly important and they’re smack-on here.

If you would like to know more, drop by their Facebook page or check out their website . The customer reviews for each piece of gear truly say more than I could ever hope to.

Note: Be sure to check out last week’s post on the Cottage Renaissance to put this into perspective.

Convenience, efficiency, economy, disposable, upgrade, update, obsolete, cheap, rapid, fast, range, options, choice, bulk, mass, margin, overhead…A pyroclastic cloud, pervading our worldview, clogging our pores, grounding the flight of durability, specificity, niche-focus and a truer philosophy of materialism that attributes actual value to the things we own and their production, rather than to the speed with which we can go around the production and replacement merry-go-round. Where is the respect for ingenuity and craftsman-ship, for durability and maintenance?

Where is the dialogue between producer and consumer? The modern Producer-Consumer interaction is typically a duplicitous monologue. They talk we listen; the corner-store conversation between clerk and client a faded photograph brought out awkwardly at family gatherings; a memory of times oft forgotten, but fortunately not gone.

In an age of Mass Production, where Luddites sound about as far-fetched as Gulliver’s wretched Yahoos, the Cottage Manufacturer is digging in, front-running a renaissance of quality, longevity, specificity and horizontal Consumer-Producer interaction. As falling production and material costs make the margins of multinationals hockey-stick, they also open the door for smaller, cottage producers to enter the market at relatively low risk, traditionally speaking. They remind us of a golden age of car-boot sales (think Billabong and Patagonia), garage workshops and tiny, hand-made production runs. The brands, and the people behind them who are profiled in this series, all produce awesome gear, cater to a very specific market and see their customers as business partners, not meme hosts. Cottage producers differentiate themselves with specificity, highly-niched products and an emphasis on building a Tribe. A relationship with their customers that is two-way, symbiotic, responsible, respectful, and receptive.

Of course there is a place for quality mass production and massive markets. I’m the proud owner of Suunto watches, Salomon running gear, Vibram and Inov-8 shoes, Petzl climbing equipment, Pelican Cases, GoPro, Garmin, Ay-Up, Iridium and Apple electronics, Patagonia clothing, Nalgene bottles and MSR shelters and stoves. Interestingly, the big brands that come to mind as representing quality and integrity have fairly humble origins themselves. Without this history they’d most likely be another faceless company targeting some Survey-Says-Defined, approximated market middle point in order to justify the high set-up costs of large-scale mass production and keep investors on side.

Sure, I’m being melodramatic and pompous, apparently undermining my inclination toward free-market capitalism, but it’s not a hatred of big-business that upsets me. Rather, I advocate a market formed through a partnership of intelligent consumer and responsible producer. There is no charity here, neither is doing the other a favour, the producer is simply responding to the demands of a market that knows what they want and how much they’re willing to pay for it. I’m sure this wont be the last time I paraphrase Ayn Rand.

In the 1970s Marsh Hyman, president of the Nalge Company, manufacturers of state-of-the-art Polyethylene Nalgene laboratory equipment, responded to staff pilfering lab bottles for hiking trips by approaching the Nalge Specialty Department with a mission: “Spread the word to outdoorspeople all over! Tell them about this new line of high-quality camping equipment.” Around the same time recently-retrenched Boeing Engineers Jim Lea and Neil Anderson took a piece of open-cell foam, some airtight fabric, melted it together with a sandwich press and by 1972 had filed for patent on what would be come Therm-a-rest (who also own MSR and Sealine). A few years earlier Yvon Chouinard and Tom Frost had founded Chouinard Equipment, a company making climbing hardware for rock climbers. Chouinard started out by teaching himself blacksmithing on a 2nd hand forge and anvil, making reusable pitons by hand from old axles. By 1972 they’d helped to phase out the damaging practice of hammering in climbing protection and began punching out reusable, aluminium chocks that would allow climbers to climb “clean”, leaving “the rock unaltered by the passing of the climber”. The pair soon split their focus and Patagonia was born, a company with a reputation for strongly supporting the people and communities who use their products and for helping to protect the wild places we love.

Nalgene, Therm-a-rest and Patagonia are in no way, shape or form small companies. But in spite of their size they continue to develop and produce consumer-relevant products and do so without having auctioned their integrity or exacting standards to the lowest bidder. For me, it is these values that Cottage Manufacturers like Cactus, RocBloc, THIR and Sweet Cheeks represent.