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From the archive - Into the frying pan - Le Marathon Des Sables Part III

Leg 5 – Marathon Stage

Having not run at all on the rest day it came as something of a surprise to actually start moving about again. Bizarrely it was less painful to run than it was to walk as this moved the pressure points on your feet. Jogging at the start with John amidst the mass of other runners I was getting into my pace when I looked around and noticed he had vanished. I subsequently learnt that he had taken a wide route to avoid all the other runners. Jogging on I soon caught up with Steve from my tent and we ran on together covering the first 22km quickly and then reverting to a run/walk strategy during the midday heat. Steve was feeling strong even during the heat of the day so he ran on while I continued to run/walk on alone.

This stage was primarily on rocky ground with occasional ‘dunettes’ along the way. I read before I came to this race that as each day of the race goes by you feel stronger and stronger. having now done it myself I have to say this is entirely true. A full marathon seemed to be nothing at all. This stage was pretty uneventful and I finished the stage (and in so doing set my only officially timed marathon pb) in 5 hours 58 minutes. For the last few kilometres of the stage I raced with Jean-Christophe Comte and we managed to have a conversation despite neither of us speaking the others language particularly well. In keeping with the spirit of the race we finished the stage together sprinting the last 200 meters and crossing the line holding hands and screaming at the top of our voices!

When I finished the stage I realised that I had cracked it. I was going to finish this race, one that I had put months of training and effort into. Failure would have been terrible. I no longer had to worry - I had done it bar the finishing. Walking back to the tent I was grinning from ear to ear when a German runner seeing me walking by stepped out of his tent, put out his hand for a 'high 5' - which I duly delivered - before smiling and returning to his tent. It's spirit like that that makes the race what it is.

I got back to the tent to find that Steve and Mark had both finished and were chatting with Rex and Derek. After deciding that I had better get my handholding with Frenchmen out into the open as soon as possible they dutifully took the mickey out of me. After which Mark admitted he had done exactly the same thing on the long day - and kept it quiet!

John arrived about 30 odd minutes after me and still in good form followed by the rest of the Lads from the tent.

The Finish

One aspect of the Marathon Des Sables is that the race camp is crawling with journalists of both TV and Print varieties. It was to the bemusement of one of the former that tent 64 gleefully tucked INTO their stores of Ibuprofen exactly one hour before the race started on the last day.

I had finally cracked under the strain of an unending diet of PSP sports drink and refused to drink mine on the last morning meaning to finish this race on my stores of energy and what little fat I had left on me (all the runners looked a bit scraggy at this point) - I was soon to learn this was a poor decision. A meagre breakfast and some Ibuprofen meant that I was ready to go in time for my group start. The start time of the race had been split into three groups - the slow and walking wounded, the middle packers (me included) and the elite racing snake types.

The start of this final leg, a mere 18km, was the usual chaos particularly as we had been hanging around for ages posing for a picture to go into the official race book. I ran with Steve from the start as John had opted to take it easy due to his shattered feet and a knee injury he picked up on the Long day. Running through to the halfway point hundreds of school children lined our route as we ran through villages cheering and clapping as we went by. By the 10 km mark Steve and I had shifted along at a good pace but I started to feel somewhat fatigued. Steve and I agreed he would push on while I walked for a bit and drank some water encouraging other competitors as either they passed me or I passed them. About three km's from the finish my brain finally registered that I was, in running parlance, 'bonking'. I had run out of energy and desperately needed food. I emptied all my pockets from my rucksack unearthing a mixed bag of banana chips, ginger, Bombay mix and a sesame seed bar that I scoffed in a matter of seconds before washing it all down with my PSP polluted water from one of my bottles. Suitably energised (probably more mentally than physically) I felt able to run on and took the trouble to enjoy the last few minutes of the race rather than just wishing it away.

Coming out of the final village I saw the finish banner across a field, the route lined with kids begging equipment from the runners as they approached the line. I gladly handed over one of my PSP polluted water bottles to a child before jogging into the finish. A funnel of spectators lined the final 100 metres of the race and I had just got to them when I heard

'COME ON CHRISTIAN!! SPRINT FINISH!!!!'

Mark and Steve, both of whom had already finished, as well as Derek were yelling at me from by the finish line. It was a challenge that could not be ignored and for the first time since the very start of the race I ran at full speed to the end of 150 torturous miles. Crossing the line I closed my eyes and exulted at completing this race before turning round, arms aloft and grinning at my fellow tent mates. Derek got a picture - it's my favourite from the entire race and is now on the wall in my study as I write this. I had finished the race in 42 hours 33 minutes and 40 seconds coming in 283 place.

Picking up my finishers medal, a clean T-shirt and a bottle of water as well as getting a congratulatory kiss on both cheeks from Patrick Bauer, the race founder and organiser, I joined my tent mates and the Royal Engineering Ladies Team to wait for the rest of our tent and Jamie and Roraigh, the blind runner and his guide to finish.

John arrived shortly after I did and soon joined us obviously ecstatic at having completed the race.

The aftermath

The next two days before returning to the UK in some ways the best and worse of the entire race experience.

They were poor in so far as we (that is the Brits) ended up in the worst Hotel in Quarzazate and the 'Gala' dinner the day after the race finished was a farce of planetary proportions. However, the partying was goooooooodddddd!!! The Brits invaded the bar at the best Hotel in Ouarzazate (ousting the French who were staying there) and proceeded to empty the place of every alcoholic beverage in sight. Tent 64 partied until the early hours of the morning – a fitting celebration of the end of an extraordinary week.

If you are interested in competing in this race...

Then firstly get your head examined and then check out the following site.

Official MdS Site (UK)

visit the website here

What’s Next?

There is a nice 130-mile non-stop race in Alaska. Minus 40 degrees C, snow, ice and frostbite………lovely.

From the archive - Into the frying pan - Le Marathon Des Sables Part II

Dunes Day

Today saw the establishment of a morning ritual that would continue for the duration of the race. My tent was next to the two Japanese tents. At 6 am every morning one of the Japanese competitors would burst INTO song:

To the tune of ‘Happy Birthday to you’

“Good morning Sa-Ha-Ra,, Good morning Sa-Ha-Ra, Good morning, good morning, good morning Sa-Ha-Ra!”

By the end of the week we were all singing it.

Dunes day was 37 km, 22km of which were the El Rhoual Erg during which time we would not get any extra Water with than the three litres we got at the start of the Erg. To protect my feet from the sand I was wearing Porelle Dry Waterproof socks. These were great at preventing sand getting against the surface of your feet but did not prevent your trainers filling with sand making your foot swelling all the more problematic. If I was going to be in Dunes all day I needed to sort some form of gaiters out. I fashioned some by putting my trainer shod foot the wrong way through my Ron Hill Running Tights up to about mid calf. I then cut the Ron Hills off just past where my toes were and tied them with string effectively making a bag for each of my feet out of my trouser legs. Considering the distance we covered in the dunes these worked remarkably well and hardly any sand got in.

As this would be a very long hot day I decided not to run at all but to Tab the whole way. As a result John and I were way down the field up until about midday when we finally got to the dunes. A quick check of our kit and an interview with a US Journalist later we were into the dunes proper. We noticed immediately we were overtaking people, lots of them. Both of us decided to ration our water based on the assumption it would take us 4.5 hours to cross the dunes. 1.5 Litres for the first half, 1.5 litres for the second half. The first two hours (and first bottle of water) went very quickly and we made excellent progress passing loads of people who had run past us earlier in the day. Very satisfying!

Three hours into the dunes I knew that I was in trouble as I could feel my temperature rise every time I climbed a dune. The feeling was not pleasant at all and for the next hour and a half I felt as though I were on the point of passing out at any moment. Rather than wasting water pouring it over my head I drank every drop and just hoped that I would sweat enough to keep my core temperature in the ‘conscious’ zone! The dunes went on and on and on. The moment you crested a dune all you could see all the way to the horizon was more Dunes. Unless you wanted to quit the only option was to keep going, I had no intention of quitting. This was not true of everyone however and for the first time people started to fire their distress flares requesting rescue. Half a dozen went off in the space of 15 minutes and the race helicopter started what was to become a taxi service ferrying competitors back to the Race medical team for treatment.

Too my surprise and despite feeling awful we were still overtaking people and I don’t think we were actually overtaken at all during the Dunes. John was in good form and planning routes that went over new sand rather than following the churned up tracks of previous competitors in a sheep like fashion. This paid dividends, at one point we overtook 10 Italians in this way, one minute they were 20 metres in front the next we had passed them by and didn’t see them for the rest of the stage.

The Dunes stage actually had a false finish and this was to be the undoing of many competitors. Because of the heat an extra control point was put in place at the end of the Erg where you would receive a measly 500ml of water to see you through the last 3 km to the end of the stage. However some 4 km before you reached the extra control point a French group had set up a retreat in the desert using tents that were similar to the race organisers. Seeing this many runners gulped the last of their water thinking they were about to get more only to learn they had another 4 km to go. A number of runners dropped out on those last 4km, some less than 1km from the extra control point.

We eventually made it to the finish in 7 hours 20 minutes sprinting the last 200 yards to whoops of approval from the French Race Officials as we passed another couple of Italians. Returning to our Tent only Mark had got in before us, everyone else was still out on the course. As darkness fell Derek, Steve, Nigel and Scott completed the stage and we learnt that Jackson had had to be airlifted out midway through the Dunes when he ran out of water. Knowing he had at least two hours of Dunes left to go and having no water he made the decision to pull out, catching a lift with the helicopter as it evacuated a US runner who had passed out clambering down a Dune. Jackson made a sensible decision in the circumstances and although he put a brave face on it you could tell he was bitterly disappointed. Two days later he was back in the UK. He's going back for the 2002 race.

Hours seemed to drag by and Rex was still out on the course. He eventually got finished in just short of twelve hours, ate a meal and immediately went to sleep.

Within an hour of getting back into camp I was feeling much better having done all my personal admin (quaffing two rehydrate powders, sorted out my feet, washed and cooked some food etc). That evening, as was our habit, John, Mark and myself and joined by some of our neighbours, a blind runner Jamie and his guide Roraigh, and two members of the Royal Engineering Ladies Team, Tessa and Katie enjoyed hot chocolate heated on a fire made of twigs and drank out of hacked up plastic water bottles. Surprisingly few competitors seemed to capitalise on the fact that they were in the Sahara and actually spend some time appreciating where they were, most were snoring as soon as it got dark.

Leg 4 – The Non-Stop Day

This is the stage that makes or breaks your race. 76km, basically two marathons back to back, with a maximum time limit of 40 hours to complete it in. Actually 40 hours is pretty generous and allows you to sleep in the middle of the stage if you wish finishing the next day. John and I intended to go through in one push with a target finishing time of 14 .5 hours. Achievable if we sustained the pace of the Dunes day.

As we woke to the dawn chorus of ‘Good Morning Sa-Ha-Ra’ a sandstorm was blowing and had been for a goodly part of the night. Using whatever shelter we could find we cooked breakfast and then sheltered from the sand blasting as best we could. Again the Japanese came to our rescue adding a bit of humour to what would undoubtedly be a grim day. Each competitor was given a ration of 9.5 litres of water a day. Generally 1.5 litres in the morning, 1.5 litres for each 10km of the course in the day and a further 4.5 litres on returning to camp. Each bottle was marked with your race number and losing or dumping a bottle in anything but one of the provided rubbish bags carried with it a hefty 30 minute penalty. Lose a bottle or even it’s cap and it could cost you 40 hard won places so you did not want to lose one. A Japanese competitor, dressed in an all white Tyvek lightweight boiler suit put down an empty plastic bottle and in the high wind it immediately flew away. Doubtless with a penalty in mind he gave chase sprinting a full 200 metres and making numerous unsuccessful attempts to stamp on the fleeing bottle. Laughter rose up from the British and US contingent and we witnessed the chase and everyone applauded as he successfully caught the bottle and celebrated his victory with a series of high kicks, punches and chops.

John had picked up a good crop of blisters on the dunes day and was moving very gingerly on his feet at the start of the stage. Generally your brain gets bored of repeat pain signals so after about 20 minutes of walking (running was out of the question at the time) your feet would just become a dull ache and you could move at some speed. An hour INTO the stage I knew there was something wrong with John as he was moving very slowly and if anything slowing down. Clearly more was wrong than just his feet. For starters he wasn’t talking (very unlike him!), he was weaving about as he walked and basically just lacked his normal spirit. We didn’t stop at Control 1 as there wasn’t any shade although I did manage to have a blister dressed but it took us 5 hours in total to get to Control 2 at the 21km mark. We were travelling at less than a third of our normal speed and John was now in a bad way. Fortunately there was some shade at C2 and John and I agreed that he would rest up there, get his feet seen too and see how he recovered. I however was still keen to finish in one push so I would go on alone. As I left I was convinced John would be out of the race – short of a miracle recovery.

By the fourth day of the race I was really sick of Sports drink and had all but stopped using it. I managed to cover the next 20 km in 2 hours 20 minutes and then hit a major low as, as I now realise, my blood sugar levels plummeted and I didn’t replace it with anything. It was dark as I got into Control 4 (having spent all of 5 minutes at Control 3) and I was feeling pretty awful as the previous 10km had been through soft sand and this had set my feet off again making every step a mini agony. I was not happy and had decided when the race was over I was never going to exercise again, I was going to put my feet up, eat Ice Cream and watch Eastenders (including the omnibus edition).

Getting into the Control I cooked a meal, had some rehydrate and emptied out my shoes as well as having some 400mg Ibuprofen. 20 minutes later I was feeling great and seeing Jamie and Roraigh arrive arranged to carry on with them. We set off and I was very impressed at the rapport the two had and the speed at which they could move despite Jamie not being able to see where he was walking. We soon caught up with the rest of their team, ‘Desert Bats for Sightsavers International’, and walked through a fantastic Casbah at about the 50km point. The locals had placed candles along the walls and sat in their doorways watching the competitors go by. I was now raring to go so leaving Jamie and Roraigh with the rest of their team I sped up and continued on with a Medical Student, Peter and Nick, one of the members of the 1 Para team.

We made excellent time to Control 5 where we met Denise Wooley, one of the UK liaison people for the race. Denise had been at Control 2 when John and I arrived. I was pleased to hear that after I left John had stayed there for two hours and was demanding more water from the race officials. They refused to give him any so he was then demanding his ‘free’ IV Drip. During the race you are allowed one IV drip if necessary. If you have two you are disqualified. The fact he was demanding anything was a vast improvement on the meek and mild chap I’d left earlier and I was now reassured he was still in the race.

Somewhere between Control 5 and 6 I left Peter and Nick behind and started running covering 5km very quickly. By now it was 2am and a half moon was lighting the way (I hardly used my head torch at all). I caught up with a German runner, Iro Herrmann, who is a Doctor from Cologne who treats Arthritis with radioactive Isotopes (I didn’t go too near him), and we ended up completing the stage together in 17 hrs 30 mins after hardly pausing at the final control, a mere 6 km FROM the finish.

One of the great things about the race is that you meet people from all over the world, all with the same purpose and all willing to help each other of they can. The spirit in the camp, when total strangers greet you and applaud at the end of each stage is, was one of the best qualities of the race and one of the main reasons why I would consider doing it again – despite my dark thoughts about Eastenders during this stage!

Getting back to the tent I checked my feet and found I had two blisters the size of old 50 pence pieces on the insides of both heels, heelstrike blisters, my toenail on my big toe had broken at the quick and was about to come off and that one of other my toenails was sitting on top of a huge blister. After wiping down my feet with some baby wipes I blasted them with Savlon Dry, put on clean socks and went to sleep. Out of my tent Mark and Steve and finished before me but I learnt that Derek and Rex, both injured and exhausted from their efforts during the Dunes had been forced to drop out early in the day. They had both decided to stay with the tent though and encourage the rest of us as we continued on.

John rolled in at 7.30 am having covered the last 3 km in his flip-flops! He was obviously very pleased with himself although dead on his wrecked feet. After having some food he lapsed into sleep.

The ‘Rest’ Day

Hmmm, a day of rest, well kind of. having arrived at 3.30 am my dreams of a nice lie in undisturbed by the tent Nazis were dashed. One, John arrived, and two, so did the Sun!

Water was pretty plentiful for this day as we were not running so our usage was going to be conservative. I was going to use some of it to have a shower and generally clean up. A ‘Shower’ in the desert generally meant walking as far from the camp as your feet and modesty allowed or demanded, stripping naked and trying to have an all over wash with half a litre of water. I’d managed at the end of the second day which was even by then very welcome, I would not get the chance today.

We had had sandstorms every day of the event but from mid morning during the rest day it was unrelenting. All we could do was lie in our open sided tents, sunglasses and MdS Buff headovers covering our faces and slowly get buried in sand that was as fine as talcum powder. It was good having a rest but the sand made it grim and by the end of the day every bit of clothing and kit was impregnated with sand.

During the day a steady stream of competitors arrived who had decided to camp out at one of the control points on the course. It was impressive to see how they struggled on despite many of them having horrendous blisters or other injuries. During the day Nigel and Scott arrived bringing our tent back to it’s full complement. Scott’s feet were a total mess and he soon went off to the Medical tent to have them looked at. He didn’t return for hours and when he did he was driven back in a race Land Rover, ashen faced and moving incredibly slowly. His feet were in such a state that he had a team of Doctors dealing with them who had cut most of the skin off his toes and heels as they had become infected. The French medical team told Scott he should pull out of the race but he wouldn’t have any of it. They therefore gave him some painkillers that would numb a horse – hopefully this would allow him to finish. His feet will take weeks to heal though.

From the Archive - Into the Frying Pan...........Le Marathon Des Sables

Comments in "Quotation marks" are copies of emails I sent back to the UK during the race utilising BT Syncordia Solutions Remote working capability

In April of 2000 I competed in the Marathon des Sables, a 150 mile footrace across the Sahara Desert to raise money for the Anthony Nolan Bone Marrow Trust. Many thanks to BT Syncordia Solutions, Tempus GROUP and Virgin Atlantic Airlines for their generous support and sponsorship.

Arrival in Morocco - 6th April

at Gatwick airport I met up with the 120 other British competitors in the 15th Edition of the Marathon Des Sables, the 'Toughest Footrace on earth'. We flew into Ouarzazate on a chartered aircraft arranged by the UK agents for the race 'The Best of Morocco'.

“Well after months of planning I and 120 other British Runners have arrived in the Moroccan town of Ouarzazete. Everyone is now faced with the stark reality of what we have set out to do. The talk is totally focussed on the race ahead - 'What trainers have you got?', 'How heavy is your pack (Mine is 10KG)?', 'Are you injured?'. The esprit de corps is already building with runners who have only ever met one another virtually over the internet meeting in person for the first time.

We drive out to the desert tomorrow. Allegedly a 6 hour hair raising experience due to the exuberance of the drivers. We’ll also learn of our route then.”

Arrival in the Desert

“We've finally arrived in the desert after a both terrifying (the drivers lived up to their reputation) and interesting day travelling across Morocco from Ouarzazete to, well, somewhere in the middle of nowhere. We've received our roadbook detailing the distances we will cover each day of the race. There are A LOT of sand dunes on the course that are making everyone nervous, particularly as the longest day, 76km, is at least 1 third dunes - not good. “

Make up of the week is as follows:

Day 1 28 km Stony ground and sand dunes

Day 2 34 km Stony ground and dry lake bed

Day 3 38 km Dry lake bed and then 22 km of permanent sand dunes

Day 4 76 km Very mixed terrain, stony ground, packed earth and sand dunes

Day 5 Rest This is a rest day or a finishing day for those still on the Day 4 course

Day 6 42 km Stony terrain, some sand

Day 7 18.5 km Mainly sandy tracks through villages to the finish

I’m in tent 64 with 8 other Brits. There’s myself, my mate John who is a Lloyds broker, Mark who’s an Engineer, Derek and Steve who both work in Telecomms hardware sales, Jackson who works for Reuters and finally Scott, Nigel and Rex - I've no idea what they do.

Scrutineering Day

“Scrutineering day! The organisers provided a fantastic dinner for all of the present competitors last night allowing runners to discuss the days ahead. I am pleased to say my tent, all Brits, was the last to bed. However, the 80 extremely late US runners arrived at the camp at 2am waking everyone as they wandered about shouting 'Where’s my goddamned tent!' - thanks guys! “

Their displeasure could be forgiven as the organisers had forgotten to put any tents up for them and they had had a nightmarish Journey getting to Morocco and then to the race start point involving the extremely expensive use of taxis as their coaches failed to arrive. To top all this Royal Air Maroc lost their luggage and as a result most of the US runners were identifiable during the race by the fact they had normal shirts or T-shirts on with ‘USA’ written on them in permanent marker pen.

“The sun’s out and at 8.30am its already getting hot. Today the organisers check our kit and take all our other personal items from us. Things get hard from here on in. Tomorrow is a 28km day including dunes. Next report will be after the second day of running. I hope I’m in decent enough shape to send it!”

Scrutineering, despite the gravest warnings about having all the correct calories in your food etc was extremely straight forward. The organisers took your personal items other than your race kit and threw it on the back of a lorry after baking it in the sun for three hours. I had a number of pens in my suitcase and was convinced all my clothes would look like they were tie dyed by the time I got them back a week later. Your race kit, rucksack, sleeping bag and food were then weighed and your compulsory kit items such as an anti venom pump checked. No problem.

A few years ago a 22 year old French runner died two miles into the race. He had a congenital heart defect and as a result runners now had to produce an ECG and a certificate from a Doctor stating your fitness to run. Many of the UK runners had had to spend a surprising amount of money getting ECGs and Medical Certificates organised privately. Fortunately for me my GP was more than happy to oblige and even signed off my ECG when it showed up as being abnormal. The abnormality being ‘normal’ for someone training for months for an event like this.

The French cardiologist who checked my ECG during scrutineering was happy enough with my medical notes but evidently decided that I looked a bit too enthusiastic as he told me no less than four times to take it easy on the first two days. It turned out to be good advice.

What a Scorcher!

“Phew! What a couple of days! The race started in earnest on Sunday with a 28km run across an absolutely scorching Sahara desert. None of my training had adequately prepared me for the heat so I took the first day very easy. Well kind of easy as I could not resist sprinting at the start and was one of the front runners for all of 200 yards of this stage.

One of my tent mates, Mark, actually lead the race for this period much to the bemusement of the elite European and Moroccan runners. If you’ve followed the race on the net we’re the red faced guys with (relatively) enormous rucksacks.

We were given water at the 10 and 20 km points and experienced for the first time the joy that is Dunes.....I managed to avoid blisters on the first day much to my relief despite going through the sand dunes. To protect my feet I am wearing Porelle Waterproof socks which despite being on the warm side meant that no sand got against the surface of my feet thus avoiding blisters on that first day. However at the end of day two this has all changed!

Today was a 34 km stage across good terrain. The temperature went up to 45?C and there was no shade at all to hide from the sun in. Running and walking in these kind of temperatures is indescribable and all of the western competitors are hoping we acclimatise adequately soon. My next report all being well will be in 2 days time after the dunes day (38km) and the non stop day (76km!). I’m off to cook my dinner - Mountain House dehydrated Chicken and Rice - Lovely!”

150 miles is a very long way to run in the best of conditions. I had managed some heat training before leaving the UK but not nearly enough to allow a rapid acclimatisation so I adopted a run/walk strategy for the first days, 5 minute walk/15 minute run and repeat. My ‘Tabbing’ (fast walking) speed is not that much slower than my long distance running speed so the time lost was minimal but meant that my level of exertion was fairly conservative. For this stage I ran with John and we were later joined by Jackson FROM our tent who was obviously suffering a bit in the heat. After 11.30 am the heat rapidly rose peaking at about 1pm and staying that hot until about 3pm. My feet swelled filling my trainers (which were 1.5 sizes too big to deal with this eventuality) as did my hands. My fingers resembled sausages and prevented me FROM clenching my fists. Most unpleasant. I had intended to leave my wedding ring back in the UK as it is quite loose and I did not want to lose it. As it happens I completely forgot about it and what with the heat I would have had to sever a finger to get it off anyway.

I completed the stage in 4 hr 20 mins coming in in 343 position.

The day 2 stage was 38 km. It’s worth mentioning a bit of the morning routine. The soon dubbed 'Tent Nazis' (local Bedouins who set up and struck camp for each stage of the race) would turn up at 6am and dismantle your tent around you if you weren’t out of it. However, you didn’t start racing until after 9am most days. This gave you time to cook breakfast. I had to have a caffeine fix so mine involved coffee and a microscopic portion of Jordan's Luxury Breakfast crunch cereal followed by a litre of PSP Carbo drink. Most of my calories were in the form of powdered energy drinks. You would then pack your bags and chat with the other competitors whilst consuming whatever remains of the previous nights 4.5 litre water ration. Being completely hydrated at the beginning of each day was vital and the best test for this was if your urine was clear you were fine. I didn’t have any problem with this as on every stage of the race I would invariably have to stop 20 minutes after the start and relieve myself whilst numerous competitors passed me by.

The terrain for this stage was excellent and John and I, again joined by Jackson, pushed the pace a bit. At the end of the stage (getting in just short of 5 hours) we had improved our position and I had developed a nice pair of blisters on my heals – not ideal. I sorted my blisters out myself applying antiseptic spray, Compeed and Zinc Oxide Tape. I avoided the French medical team for the start as they were a bit to liberal with the use of a scalpel for my liking.

From the archive - Southern Traverse, Dunedin, New Zealand Pt V

  

Stage 12 Mtn Bike 20km
Otago Coast Forest

This was to be our final full transition where we had hot food and changed from our paddling gear into biking gear. The temperature had really dropped and it was still blustery and damp. I had actually started to run out of dry clothes due to the constant rain if the last few days making it impossible for our support crew to dry out any of our gear other than a few items in the van. Getting ready for the bike leg I togged up finally wearing a polyprop top, karrimor fleece, fleece bodywarmer and powerstretch tights and covering it all with Karrimor Pac-Lite Gore-tex. Plus a Smartwool beanie, bike helmet, liner gloves and Gore-Tex gauntlets. I should have been warm but it took half an hour of hard biking to finally warm up properly and then I merely stayed comfortable, never overheating. Cold night really.

We absolutely blasted this section forming a pace line and going so fast that once they had finished packing up and heading off after us towards to next Transition our support crew thought we had got lost. In fact we were much further ahead than they had anticipated.

At the previous Transition were had been given a new grid reference for the control which had originally been set to be at Brighton Domain. Screaming into Brighton we ripped right the way through the town, right past the TA (which in fact was located at the old grid reference for some reason) and out the other side towards where we thought the transition would be. It wasn't there and after a bit of ranting we decided to backtrack. We were so focussed on getting to the TA quickly (we knew we'd been fast and wanted to try and at least be fastest team on one section) that in an attempt to locate the TA Carrie called out for our support crew. "LEE!". Unfortunately Carrie yelled this (she is a school teacher and has a yell to match) about a foot away from my left ear and I did a Tom and Jerry like leap in the air with the surprise. We'd like to apologise to anyone who woke up around 1.30am that night in Brighton. I'm sure there were plenty!

Lee had actually heard us (about half a km away!) and flashed the lights of the van. We didn't actually see him doing so but headed to the old grid reference and low and behold found the TA. I believe that TA had actually been set up in the wrong place. Particularly given that the new directions we had to leave this TA had absolutely no bearing on reality but did make sense when considered from the where we thought the TA would be. Oh well. It just adds to the adventure.

We had one section of the course, a short 12km coastal trek and we would have finished the race. We were feeling very upbeat by now and wanted to get on with finishing the job. We figured we would finish at about 4am crossing the finish line at the St Clair Beach Surf Rescue Club.

This section was actually a bit odd in terms of navigation as it was a mix between having to find two CP's along the way but following a 'marked' route.

Stage 13 Coasteering 12km
Brighton -> St Clair

This was to be one of the worst sections of the whole race. To start off we were mentally already at the line and probably too chipper for our own good. This mood evaporated fairly quickly when the directions out of the TA made no sense at all. We ended up ignoring them and navigating our own way down to a very long and scenic beach. The clouds had dissipated and the moon was out making for a very peaceful beach walk. We chatted about our favourite parts of the race and were pretty much unanimous that the coasteering was a definite high point and Jackson pulling out was the low point. At the end of the beach walk was CP59 that once off the beach itself was at a quarry. CP59 was supposed to be a manned CP but once there we couldn't find anyone and spent ages trying to find them. Searching all over the quarry we shouted back and forth. We tried radioing HQ to find out where their CP staff were only to discovered the radio still wasn't working so taking proof we had been there decided to press on. At the last TA we had been given new instructions covering the route of this section, whereas before we would have simply followed the road a short distance we now had to follow a pathway through a wood at the top of the quarry and from there head onto the sea cliffs and follow the marked path to the finish. The path would be marked up with Southern Traverse signs and orange tape. We found the Southern Traverse sign at the top of the quarry pointing into some woods but no pathway was in evidence. Instead it looked as though run off from the quarry had been poured into the wood and the air was thick with dust and generally quite foul. Taking a bearing to get through the wood we finally made it to the other side and found the first of what we hoped would be the markers leading into the finish.

I'm sure that during the day the markers and sea cliffs would have been fine to navigate along but in the dead of night and sleep deprived they were less than ideal. We ended up finding our own way to the next CP, CP60 that was at the bottom of some sea cliffs at a local beauty spot called Tunnel Beach. Following our directions we headed down to the Tunnel from which the beach gets its name and Neal and Carrie walked down the tunnel to find the CP at the bottom as expected.

It wasn't there.

I was at the top of the tunnel when I heard Neal yelling 'No f******g way' and started to head down thinking he had completely lost it and was strangling some poor race official. In fact he was lamenting the fact that there was no CP there, after the farce of trying to find CP59, and we again took proof we had been there and set off on the long climb back up to the tops of the sea cliffs.

Wild pigs run around this region of New Zealand and the Kiwis not wanting their farmland devoured by a load of hungry hogs have strung up electric fences all over the place. No being able to see the route from Tunnel Beach we had to cross a couple of these fences and Neal discovered that the voltage used in NZ compared to the UK is quite a bit different. Holding onto the top of one fence he got shock that put his left arm and left calf muscle into spasm! On the next fence and having learnt Neal's lesson I wore my Gore-Tex gauntlets and I still got a number of much reduced shocks even then as I could feel them through my gloves as Neal and Carrie clambered under the fence.

We could finally see a golf course that was set out in the directions and all of a sudden orange tape started appearing that we followed down to an extremely steep grass slope on which the race organisers had set up a rope handrail to allow a bit of safety for teams as they climbed down.

Climbing down we could see the finish line with the Southern Traverse Banner and a massive 'Finish' sign set halfway along the beach. We had been cursing this last section but all agreed as we headed down we were glad of the delay. Dawn had broken and the beach was lit up with the morning sunshine. If we'd finished when we expected we'd have finished in the dark. Not much fun.

We walked along the beach savouring the last minute or two of our race. One that had not gone to plan, in any respect to be honest, but one that had been a challenge and immensely enjoyable, even when it wasn't at the time! Crossing the line we were met by the Race Director Geoff Hunt who congratulated us on our finish, asked how we had enjoyed it and generally had a bit of a chat. A bottle of champagne appeared as well as a few bottles of beer and the three of us, with our fantastic support crew of Daniel, Lawrence and Lee took loads of finish photographs and got a little bit smashed.

It was a great feeling to finish the race although I personally felt we'd have given a good account of ourselves had we been able to head up into the Lammerlaws and get to experience the whole course. That said though we came second (unranked) on the experience course with the majority of teams entering this years race ending up on the same course.

Adventure Racing is a team sport. In our case we had a massive team that finally got three of us to the finish line.

Firstly a massive thank you to Shirley at Eventrate.com. Your support has been second to none and without your extremely generous support we simply would not have been at the start line of this year's race. Thank you.

Secondly very many thanks to the folks at Air New Zealand for the flights and the upgrades! To Neil Bradley at Karrimor, Muppet at Delta-Sportwear, Hubby at Knysna Racing Kayaks, Simon the Triathlon Coach, Chris at Cotswold Outdoors Harrogate and Douglas at Turner Aviation many thanks for your support of our team through equipment and expertise. None of our equipment in the race nor our pre race training was found wanting. Thank you.

Signing up to be an indentured servant for a week is probably a madder thing to do than actually racing. Many thanks to Daniel, Lawrence and Lee for all the fantastic work during the run up to the race and during the race week. We could not have been better looked after by a finer bunch of blokes. Thanks especially to Lawrence for the paddling, I don't remember mentioning 20 hours of paddling when you signed up but you did it with a smile, or was that a grimace on your face?

Last but definitely not least a massive vote of thanks to our families for putting up with months of preparations, non-stop race talk, laundry, training weekends and the time we were away at the race.

On personal note I could note think of a better team to race with than my team mates Carrie, Neal and Jackson. You made the whole experience a special one and I think we could put in a hell of a performance………….next time ;-)

Thinking back, wading down the river doesn't seem so bad now. Maybe I won't retire just yet…………

From the archive - Southern Traverse, Dunedin, New Zealand Pt IV

  

The Final 140

Stage 8 Paddle 25km
Lake Mahinerangi

Having had our race suddenly abbreviated by 40kms we decided to push to complete the remaining 140km of the race as quickly as we could and ahead of as many of the other experience course teams as we could manage. TA6 was crammed with teams who were deciding whether to head out onto the lake to start the next kayaking leg or to wait out the bad weather and leave in the morning. We decided not to wait and to take the risk and head out despite the weather and try and steal a march on the other teams.

We got ourselves ready to head off as quickly as we could manage, we needed our equipment for both kayaking and also trekking as this stage involved a kayaking leg, then a trek, then another kayaking leg before meeting up with our support crew again

The weather was still looking appalling with high winds and rain when we headed over to the Race Officials for kit check and to sign out of TA6. Equipment check took an age for some reason as did the walk down to the kayaks. Our support crew had already put them down by the water's edge as the level of the lake was very low and in fact the lake was a completely different shape than that shown on the map. This caused us some concern due to that once on the water we would more or less be navigating exclusively based on the shape of the shore line as there were few other features we would be able to see at night and in bad weather. We were being blinded while setting up by the much loved Korean TV crew who looked a bit bemused when we loaded up and then all walked back to the race officials tent to get a detailed description of TA7 before we headed out onto the water. Satisfied that we would be able to find it, we paddled out into the inky dark.

Once out on the lake we found the weather started to clear and after a bit of searching around and the by now routine shifting the kayaks off sandbanks we located the first two remote CP's that were set at various points at the edge of the lake. Kayaking was again having it's soporific effect and we all started to nod off again while in mid paddle, including this time Lawrence who at the stage had had as little sleep as we had since the last paddling section. Missing a remote CP on this section meant you suffered a 2 hour penalty at the next manned CP. Knowing that the next manned CP was in a nice hut and we'd be able to get some sleep there we decided to miss the next remote CP which while only being about a km off route in a small inlet would nevertheless be difficult to find at night and bank an extra hours sleep before heading off into Waipori Forest for a 14km trekking section. However, we were all seriously suffering from sleep deprivation again and I woke with a start at one point as I put my paddle into the water and tried to follow it in. We decided another catnap was in order, so steering ourselves into the bank we parked and slept for 5 minutes. Usually this would be enough to keep you going for some further time but by now the cumulative effect of several days of little sleep meant the benefit of a 5 minute nap had been seriously depleted. Carrie in a desperate attempt to keep awake started singing all the songs from the Sound of Music and (having a wife and two small children and therefore knowing all the words) I proceeded to join in. Between us we managed to murder Do-Ray-Me and all of the Von Trapp's favourite songs for some time. Certainly kept us awake anyway.

The Southern Traverse 2003 . Spotting some glow sticks at the mouth of a small inlet we realised we had reached TA7 and were at he start of the trekking leg. The CP staff, who were universally cheerful and helpful to all the teams, many of them being students studying for various outdoor pursuits qualifications themselves, were expecting us having been alerted by the staff at TA6 that we were on our way. We discovered one team, the much respected Team Civicorp who were also on the experience Course had been into the control before us and were out on the trekking leg. As we had to sit out a penalty at the Hut the CP staff offered us tea (which turned into hot water when they discovered they had left their tea bags in their car) as well as a load of left over pasta from their dinner - which was delicious. We then all piled onto a bunk in the hut and fell asleep for an hour.

Stage 9 Trek 14km
Waipori Forest

At the end of our enforced two hour stop at TA7 we headed out into the Waipori Forest for what turned out to be an extremely straight forward trekking section of 14 kms. The temperature over night had dropped considerably and several of the manned CPs had their tents covered with ice when we strolled up to check in.

Learning the lesson from the earlier trekking stage we finished off this section with a bushwhack down to TA7 again to pick up our kayaks and head off for a short kayak to the 10th stage of the race, a 40km Mountain Bike leg. We discovered, perhaps due to the short bushwhack we had done that we had knocked an hour off the time Civicorp had take to complete the trek.

Paddling out of TA 7 we saw the Korean team arrive (who now were a minimum of three hours behind us) and we set off onto the lake and straight into a vicious headwind that had us battling in our tubs the whole way into the next Transition. Our support crew were actually expecting us to be an hour later then we were and were very surprised when the race officials told them we were heading round the headland to the Transition. They immediately went into overdrive and our normally strictly set out tarpaulins, chairs and gear boxes we a little more casual on this occasion.

We were now at the 'front' if not in the lead of the race and in many respects breaking trail which was a novel experience, particularly in our dealings with the media who wondered where the hell we had suddenly come from. We had a very quick transition at the Transition wolfing down some pasta and getting ready for the bike leg. Our support team were by now thoroughly frustrated by the lack of mobile phone coverage and I didn't help matters by getting on their case about it (and subsequently having to apologise) at the control. Worryingly we discovered that the front disc brake on Carries bike was no longer working and we didn’t have the parts with us to repair it so Carrie would be doing some massive downhills on one brake and to top that the bottom bracket on her bike was making an ominous clicking sound every time she pedalled. We just had to hope it would hold out.

Stage 10 Mtn Bike 40km
Lake Mahinerangi -> Berwick

New Zealand is pretty unique in that you really do get four seasons in one day. Leaving the Transition to the cheers of a surprising number of support crews the weather was sunny even if the wind had a bit of a chill to it.

Heading up into the hills of Berwick Forest again (the section was more or less a repeat in reverse of the previous mountain bike leg) the weather closed in and it started to rain followed rapidly by hail that was coming down so hard we had to get off our bikes and take shelter while we waited for it to pass. This was then followed by snow….

Several of the remote CP's that we now had to go to (although the Rewarewa CP was excluded from this stage) surprisingly had not had the control clues changed since we'd previously been past them as we were advised they would be during the race briefing. We decided to radio in to clarify this point only to discover our radio either didn't work or that there was no coverage there (in fact we later found out radio coverage was very limited along the whole course). We continued on and raised the issue at the next manned CP to be told that the cards hadn't been turned over yet due to us being further along the course than had been anticipated. The rain/hail/snowfall had turned many of the trails into mud baths, usually at the bottom of a nice long downhill providing each of us with a nice mud shower whenever we passed by. Having ridden my bike a great deal in training I was somewhat surprised that what I assume must be the weird gravitational effects of the southern hemisphere meant that all the mud flying off the front wheel of my bike went straight into my eyes. I biked several sections of the bike course completely unable to see where I was going. How I managed avoiding to crash either into the forest or into one of my team mates I don't know. Having completed the final section of the bike leg, biking up a long final hill we made our way into TA10 (which was in fact the same as TA5) and prepared for the final kayaking leg of the race, a 27 km kayak across Lake Waipori and then down the Taieri River to the Sea.

Stage 11 Paddle 27km
Lake Waipori -> Taieri River -> Taieri Mouth

We decided, given our experience of nodding off in the kayak and recognising we would again be doing virtually all our paddling in the dark that we should try and get an hours sleep before heading off. This done and having eaten a meal we set off as quickly as we could. We were keen to get through the first part of this kayaking section, Lake Waipori, in the light mainly due to the fact that this would be the most difficult from a navigation point of view. Once on the Taieri River navigation would become far easier though the current would mean we had to watch our for obstacles on the river, particularly fallen trees that were much in evidence on the first river we had paddled on.

On the last kayaking section, being relatively short, Lawrence had not worn any gloves and his hands had become chilled throughout the paddle. He now had serious comedy hands and both were very swollen up. For this section he squeezed on some liner gloves and then put on a pair of the teams kayaking secret weapons. Marigolds. Out of the team I was the only one who didn't wear them preferring my Gore-Tex gauntlets but the rest of the guys managed to benefit from dry, if a little sweaty, hands for most of the kayaking due to wearing their washing up gloves.

We were in such a hurry to set off that in fact we were in the wrong kayaks but fortunately we didn't have to stop and swap over as the settings for our kayaks were more of less the same. We were however overheating in our Delta-Sportswear Dry Cags, a situation Carrie and I nearly corrected within 10 minutes of starting by running into a log stretched across the river at full tilt, the front end of the kayak, with Carrie in it lifting right out of the water but managing not to tip over as we shouted a warning to Neal and Lawrence who were just behind us. Backpaddling off the log we found a way around it and were soon crossing Waipori Lake navigating round the very shallow water in this swamp like area.

I was a bit nervous at this point due to the fact that at the point of leaving TA10 one of the locals had asked whether we were 'trying to catch the tide'. I suppose it should have occurred to us that the latter stages of the River would be tidal but I'm afraid it hadn't and I wondered whether we could possibly miss our window due to our slow boats and then end up going against the tide. Not a prospect I relished. Fortunately our nav was spot on and having found the first remote CP (in an incredibly creepy set of fishing huts) we paddled on to CP53 at Lake Waihola. In order to keep our average speed up we had set up a tow line from our boat to Lawrence and Neal's and were moving along well. Approaching the next CP we were cheered to see that our support crew were there to shout encouragement/abuse at us before they headed down to the next Transition Area at the mouth of the Taieri River.

This was the last tricky navigation piece on the kayaking section, we had to find a fairly narrow channel that was not to easy to see at water level but taking a bearing Neal found it dead on and shouting directions at Carrie and I we managed to steer our way into the correct channel and be on our way. Having been towing for about 2 hours I had aggravated my shoulder (which I had injured training for the DW back in April) so we went off tow and now benefiting from the river current proceeded to paddle our way in formation down to CP54 at the bridge crossing over the Taieri River. This turned out to be one of the fastest paddle sections we had done principally due to the fact that Carrie was dying for the loo and wanted to get there without delay!

On finding the CP we were greeted by two very jolly Aussies who we had a bit of a chat with for a few moments while various members of the team had a team pee and then we were off again. By now it was pitch black and the weather was turning nasty again and it was actually surprisingly difficult to keep to the centre of the channel due to the lack of references on the shore. At one point Lawrence spotted what he thought was a car parked by the river that turned out to be a large white house, distances and perspective were certainly difficult to judge. The weather really decided to turn now and we were hit head on by high winds and hail. The plus side of this as that sleep deprivation was kept well at bay while being pelted in the face by sleet, the down side of course was that it wasn't particularly pleasant.

An hour and a half later and the weather had abated somewhat and we were all starting to fall asleep again. We were now in a steep canyon that must have been spectacular during the day but to us was more like being at the bottom of a well for the view it afforded us. Carrie and I started our cabaret session again working through all the Sound of Music songs as well as some other selected tracks. I was particularly impressed that Carrie knew all the words to 'There was an old lady of 92'.

It was now beginning to dawn on me that we were going to finish this race very soon. Our progress in the last 20 hours had meant we had really shifted up a gear or two and in fact we all felt, sleepiness aside, that we were getting stronger and faster if anything. Heading under a road bridge we saw TA11 on the river back and kayaked into the beach at full pelt. Our kayaking for the Southern Traverse 2003 was at an end. We were very lucky to be supported by Knysna Racing Kayaks who provided the team with Lettman I paddles and Delta-Sportwear who provided us with our dry gear, dry bags and spraydecks. All of this equipment proved to be nothing short of first rate and made a real contribution to us completing the vital kayaking stages of the event in such good shape.

Despite the excellence of the equipment mentioned above we had definitely made a major mistake in our selection of slow stable kayaks rather than biting the bullet and paying extra for some faster boats. The Kiwi teams, whose paddling is excellent anyway, basically had a 10 to 15 minute in the hour speed advantage over us in our kayaks. Considering we have several 5 to 9 hour kayak sections in the race this amounts to a great deal of time. Combined with the fact this had knock on effects in terms of going through areas in the dark or coasteering at high tide and overall kayak selection was a major inhibitor of our performance.

From the archive - Southern Traverse, Dunedin, New Zealand Pt III

  

Stage 6 Mtn Bike 50km
Berwick -> Lake Mahinerangi
This was to be a great section of the race and had a major highlight. Most of the controls on this section were of the remote variety and not having a pen between us we were going to be obliged to remember them which given our sleep deprived brains might not be that easy. The weather, having been pretty ugly when we left started to improve and brightened up considerably. One of the remote CP's was at Otago Youth Adventure Trust at a given grid reference and the question was 'what is the sign 2nd door from the kitchen?'. On arriving at the CP I walked up to the front of the building to read the sign when a bell started ringing and what seemed like 30 children and a couple of adults ran out of the hall shouting 'Rewarewa' (the name on the door) telling us that 'it’s a native tree'. They asked where we came from, gave us some lollies, said they had read about us in the paper that morning and wished us luck for the rest of the race. Such a welcome was a real boost and we cycled off waving goodbye and the three of us agreeing what a lift it was to be met with such enthusiasm. Nice kids.

Neal supported in particular by Carrie had been doing a sterling job on keeping us on course and despite a couple of small detours we were making good time through this section. The section was mainly on tracks and our pace benefited enormously although it did have its fair share of massive hills to push your bike up. We seemed to spend a great deal of time meeting up with team Go! Global Explorer from Korea. The team, made up of three Koreans and a Kiwi had come to the notice of our team early in the race when they (except the Kiwi) spent most of the early section of the race shouting at their injured female team member. Not the best example of team dynamics but it takes all sorts. I suspect had it not been for some words of guidance on such issues from Bruce (the Kiwi had had joined the team on a weeks notice) they would probably have blown up before the halfway point of the race. By now however they seemed to be operating well, as was the media team following them. They had a helicopter, cars and quad bikes available to film the team as they went around the course not to mention a cameraman who seemed to do the entire course with the team carrying a minicam. Carrie featured prominently in the filming also and was delighted to have the camera shoved 20 cms from her face as she was pushing her mountain bike up the 20th hill of the day. We began to take bets on who would blow up and punch out the camera man before the end of the race.

The race had a cut-off, two in fact. If you were not at Transition Area 6 by 9am on the Wednesday (48 hours into the race) you would not be permitted to do the full course but would have to do a shortened 'Adventure' course. Following our slow start we had missed this cut-off (as had most other teams) and were aiming to do the Adventure course only covered three of the five CP's on the high Lammerlaws/Lammermoors section. There was a further cut off of 9pm on Wednesday which if you didn't make that cut-off you missed the Lammerlaws completely and would be racing on the 'Experience' course. Knowing we would make this cut off with time to spare we decided to go have eat and have a quick sleep at TA6 and then head into the Lammerlaws section.

On arriving at TA6 we advised the Race Officials of our arrival and intention to head up into the Lammerlaws. This would require us to leave before 9pm and have a short paddle across to the start of the Lammerlaws section before heading up. The Race Officials were not happy about this and while we ate and slept visited our support crew area no less than three times saying that NO other teams were heading up, that teams already in the section were all lost and suffering with the cold and that we would have to take our Terra-Nova Equipment Cassini Tent over with us as our tent flysheet (make that decorators sheet) we were carrying as mandatory equipment would not be sufficient for this section. Basically they were laying it on a bit thick that this was a bad idea and clearly radioing back to HQ that a team was getting ready to head up.

Heading up into the Lammerlaws caused us something of a logistical problem. Lawrence would have to paddle with us but would then have to wait by himself, for perhaps 20 odd hours, for us to finish the Lammerlaws section and get back into the kayaks again. He was willing to do this but we would need a tent for him. Generously the support crew of all girl team Fat-Tyre Adventure loaned us an additional tent and we were good to go. There was some debate as to whether we should head up into the section at all but in the event the decision was to be taken out of our hands. With the weather deteriorating rapidly and an absolute hooley blowing outside, the race management closed the section to all new teams. We were now on the 'Experience' course for better or for worse.

I was personally very hacked off about this although it's entirely counterproductive to start ranting about these turns of events. It was bad enough that our slow pace had prevented us doing the full course, let along missing out on the second tier race also. Talking to Geoff Hunt at the end of the race we said about our plan to head over to the start of the Lammerlaws trek section and if necessary camp at the start of the waiting until light before heading up. Geoff told us that that is specifically what they did not want us to do and in the event loads of teams ended up in the same position as us.

Being on the Experience course was still a disaster in my view and I was very keen to complete the remaining 140km of the course as quickly as possible.

Stage 7 Trek 70km
Lammerlaws / Lammermoors
Stage closed by Race Management. The teams that did manage to get up into the Lammerlaws had a complete nightmare it has to be said. Perhaps we had a lucky escape!

From the archive - Southern Traverse, Dunedin, New Zealand Pt II

  

Stage 4 Mtn Bike 50km
Whare Flat - Outram
With heavy hearts we set out into the first mountain bike section of the course. At the race briefing the Race Director, Geoff Hunt, had told us we were in for a treat on this section. Rather than mountain biking we would be pushing our bikes for much of the way including some massive unrideable gorse riddled uphills and some downhills so steep to be unrideable also.

As it turns out he was more or less correct other than the fact most of the downhills were rideable (even for me as a pretty lousy mountain biker). We managed to find the first CP fairly quickly having pushed our bikes through a narrow gorse covered path while some other teams had taken 5 hours to get there. The fact we didn't have a puncture yet was something of a miracle. On an Ace Race we used for training three weeks previously we had three punctures in under two hours.

The course had several unmanned CP's where you would pick up a word or number that you would have to tell the staff at the next manned CP. This mountain bike section had two of these unmanned CP's. If you got to the next manned CP and you did not have the answers you would be forced to sit out a two hour penalty at that CP for each unmanned CP that you had missed. We decided (after some debate) that we would take the penalty for missing CPs 14 and 15 and bank both the energy it would have taken to get to the remote CP's as well as getting some much needed sleep by stopping at CP 16 for 4 hours.

On arriving at the CP we saw that several other teams had had the same idea and that there were snoring teams clustered around the CP hut. We settled down for a three hour nap, scoffing all the food we had with us and drinking great gulps of water before Carrie fell asleep in our team sleeping bag (as she was the thinnest and more likely to feel the cold rather than any misplaced sense of chivalry!!) and after initially dowsing off and rapidly cooling down Neal and I put on every layer we had and went back to sleep. While in NZ I had bought the silliest stripy thermal underwear I have ever owned but I was glad of it as the weather turned for the worse and the temperature dropped quickly. Three hours later I awoke feeling a bit chilly but fairly well rested, Neal had disappeared into one of the huts in a futile attempt to keep warm but we were all now raring to go and head back to the Transition area (through a few CP's on the way) and get into the kayaks.

This initially turned into a bit of a slow section as four or five teams were all heading in the same direction on the same narrow trails, often requiring us to push rather than ride the bikes, and the trail included a number of massive uphills, including one within 10 minutes of leaving CP16. We did however manage to help out the Emergency Architects team when we lent them our chain splitter after one of their chains broke. They seemed to be quite pleased to see us on that occasion!

After a long final down hill and six km's of flattish road we arrived at the Transition to get into the kayaks and start a 35km paddle down the Taieri river and across Lake Waipori. At CP 16 we had managed, via the CP staff radio, to get word to our support crew to arrange for one of the crew to be ready to paddle with the team on the kayaking leg following the departure of Jackson. My ideal (not knowing just had bad Jackson was at this point) would be that Jackson rejoined us but this was expressly rejected by the race officials anyway and in fact my brother Lawrence, who is a competent paddler, stepped up to the mark. The race officials approved his participation and he got decked out in Jackson's Delta Sportswear dry gear and PFD. Never having used wing paddles before he was going to have a crash course in paddling with them as he also had to borrow Jackson's Knysna Racing Kayaks Lettman I paddle.

At the control we wolfed down a meal and got changed into our Delta Sportswear dry gear before heading off into the night.

Stage 5 Paddle 35km
Taieri River -> Lake Waipori -> Berwick
This section involved a long paddle down the Taieri River followed by a paddle across Lake Waipori and then a windy little paddle up a narrow river to get to Berwick and a transition to the bikes again. We soon learnt that the river was extremely shallow in places and I spent a considerable amount of time with both hands on the bottom of the river trying to shuffle the kayak along while Carrie paddled like crazy in the front of kayak. Lawrence and Neal in the following boat experienced the same problems and after a frustrating hour or so we finally got into some water that was consistently deep enough to paddle in properly and began to make some progress. We didn't have any problems with sleep deprivation on the bikes due to our 3 hour sleep combined with the fear factor on some long fast downhills. However, now we were sitting down in the kayak and the rhythmic soporific action of paddling Carrie, Neal and I started to nod off. Three hours into the paddle I saw Carrie's head lolling around and her paddle not even hitting the water and it was clearly time for a catnap. Lawrence, who was well rested, was highly amused when we all steered for a sandbank and Neal in the front of his boat started snoring the moment the kayak hit the sand. Exactly 5 minutes later (none of us having an alarm switched on) we all woke up and said we'd better be off. I personally think it as the cold that woke us as you began to chill rapidly the moment you stopped paddling.

As this was a long and frankly boring paddle the temptation to sleep was enormous and we soon had to have another 5 minute catnap. Feeling very sleepy Carrie had to have a further 15 minute nap, tucking her paddle under the decklines of our kayak and with Lawrence and Neal towing our kayak to keep our average speed up, we paddled along. She felt so much better afterwards that when she woke up she was convinced she'd been asleep for an hour and that we had nearly finished the section.

My hands had been fairly pretty bad for most of the latter section of this stage with a burning sensation in all my fingers and on my palms that was similar to the feeling you get when you have trench foot. My hands had been soaked for most of the 8 hours of the stage and very cold as well. Not a good combination. Arriving at the Transition Point I had the chance to check them and found they were chalky white and wrinkled with bits of the skin abrading off. They didn't feel good so I dried them as best I could applying liberal amounts of Biobas foot balm on them and then slipped on some liner gloves and hoped they would improve.

Getting into the control we had a quick interview with the guys from high.tv (seeing the interview now you can see we were all seriously zoning) and we got changed into our bike gear. The weather had truly changed for the worse and it was pouring with rain. Our normally beautiful support crew set up was awash with water, mud and much to my despair spilt coffee! Neal, feeling in desperate need of sleep (navigating all the time is very tiring) had a 30 minute catnap in our support crew tent while I tried calling the UK to provide an update and Carrie chatted with Daniel and Lee about how the previous stage had gone. My hands were beginning to feel better although I noticed with some alarm that my right hand was comically swollen. I had debated whether I should take my Gore-Tex gauntlets to the race and had decided to throw them into my gear bag at the last minute. Thank God I did as I proceeded to wear them for the remainder of the race and I'm sure they stopped my hands from getting any worse.

We were in pretty good spirits and Neal, having had a brief nap was getting himself ready for another long stage on the bike. This time in the pouring rain. Fully kitted out in our Karrimor Paclite Jackets and Delta -Sportwear trousers we flew out of the Transition area and into Berwick Forest.

From the archive - Southern Traverse, Dunedin, New Zealand

  

Preface

"That's it, After this race I'm retired". Twenty four hours into the Southern Traverse 2003 I was not a happy bunny. I couldn't feel my feet, my right shin was in agony and I'd been caught for what seemed the fiftieth time by the bloody branches crossing the 'river' my team were currently wading down. My patience had pretty much worn through.

Twenty four hours earlier we'd been on the start line of the Southern Traverse, the classic New Zealand Adventure race. This year's race would cover a distance of 400km and include trekking, mountain biking, kayaking and for the first time, coasteering. All across the Dunedin region of New Zealand. Team Eventrate.com, made up of Caroline Blair, Neal Unitt-Jones, my Tent64 team mate Jackson Griffith and myself had been in New Zealand for three days.

We were lodged at the excellent Regal Court Motel in the student area of Dunedin and were very well looked after by Warren and Jane Spence who had us in three apartments allowing storage of our mountains of gear. Two other teams were lodged at the Motel including Auto Point New Caledonia and the Raid Gauloises veterans Team Traveller from the USA.

Team registration took place two days before the race during which time we were required to provide any outstanding certifications, prove we had the mandatory team gear, insurance and to go through various medical checks and interactions with the media. Following a training accident 10 days before I managed to combine the latter two when high.tv, an internet TV company who were filming the race decided to film while I had some stitches taken out of a nice two inch gash in my right shin.

Evenings were spent dining at the local pizza joint, Filadelphios (home of the 'Homer' pizza, with tinned spaghetti as a topping) talking about the upcoming race and getting ourselves mentally ready for the vigour's of the coming week.

Start Run 3km
Octagon -> Otago Yacht Club
Stage 1 Paddle 22km
Otago Harbour

The race started with the usual (and frankly pointless given the length of the race) 3 km mad dash out of the centre of Dunedin down to Otago Harbour to start a 22km kayak leg followed by 16km of coasteering. We ran out of the city at a steady pace stopping only for a team pee behind a bush before getting into the kayaks and heading out along Otago Harbour. It was at this point it really hit us impact our kayak selection would have on our race as the other teams, most of whom had specialist multi-sport boats such as HyperNovas simply flew out of the harbour while we pushed along our comparatively slow Amaruks. We had had the option of hiring the faster boats but had balked at the additional NZ$1000 to hire them for the race. We had a good paddle being a fairly strong kayaking team and keeping up, granted at much greater effort, with several teams in the faster boats but we would be one of the last to hit the beach. Tides meant we had to keep to the shipping channel in order to make progress as the water was extremely shallow in places and the rudder kept dragging along the bottom.

Stage 2 Coasteering 16km
Aramoana -> Warrington
Rounding the 'Moll' a 400 metre spit that ran out from the coast we aimed at a large group of what looked like penguins on the shore (in fact teams and support crews at the transition point) and surfed into beach to be met by our support crew and get changed into our gear for coasteering. Never having take part in a supported race it was quite bizarre to turn up to find my gear laid out, a hot drink and food for the next leg. We quickly changed while chatting to Lucy Hone, a journalist who is writing a feature about the team for Men's Fitness Magazine, and carrying our mandatory gear in our Nookie dry bags and clutching a pair of flippers each we headed off into the 16km Coasteering section. Coasteering is a new sport in the Southern Traverse world and indeed is a new sport Per Se. It's only really practiced in Pembrokeshire in the UK but we soon got into it, trekking along the rocky coastline and swimming around a few headlands, including one swim of slightly more than a kilometre.

This was a fantastic section of the race although one that we had all been a bit nervous about. The chances of getting hypothermia had seemed quite high (although this turned out to be unfounded) which would not be a good idea so early in the race. The course was mainly based on long beach sections (including one disturbingly called 'Murdering Beach') interspersed with rocky headlands that we bouldered and swam around. Not many races give you the opportunity to swim with Seals but we must have attracted the attention of the local Seal population as several swam with us. Having finished the kayaking late we were late getting into the Coasteering and the tide was now coming in. Sections where previous teams had run around we were forced to wade and swim through. In order to avoid injuring ourselves while jumping off cliff sections (without helmets on I might add) we developed the knack for watching a wave come in and jumping into the deepest part of them as they went by.

The final section of the Coasteering leg involved a swim through across a relatively narrow stretch of water that was subject to the tide and was very fast flowing. We set off and having arrived at the other side was greeted to a local guy who piped in with 'I've lived here for 30 years and I've never seen anyone swim across there before'. That's adventure racing for you..

Stage 3 Trek 27km
Warrington -> Evansdale -> Whare Flat
Getting into the CP after coasteering we managed a quick transition of thirty minutes stripping off our wetsuits and changing into trekking gear as well as wolfing down some pasta and a cup of coffee. We'd managed the transition so quickly we made time up on the French team Emergency Architects and started the trekking section ahead of them much to their disdain (this was to be a theme throughout the race).

Setting off into the trekking section I was struck by the sheer steepness of the hills we were heading into. The first climb of the day was very hard work and the humid conditions of the woods meant sweat was pouring out of my face as I cursed myself for not having done more hill work in training. Prior to the race we had basically planned out the whole route with Neal in particular (as the team's lead navigator) choosing a route that was navigable and for the most part following established tracks while avoiding having us banging up and down hills non stop. Unfortunately this was more or less impossible in this section and we had had to include a 1km section of bushwhacking otherwise we had a 4km detour to follow a tracked route round. The knock on effect of our slow kayaking followed by slow coasteering now meant we were going to do more or less all the trekking in the dark and we decided that rather than getting lost we would accept the extra distance and follow the safe route rather than bushwhacking at night. In hindsight this was a mistake because by following the 'safe' option we went off route anyway when confronted by a trail not marked on the map and in fact the bushwhacking wouldn't have been so bad (we didn't know this however as it was dark and impossible to tell either way)

The trekking took a long time indeed and we walked for a while with a Canadian team, a good bunch of guys (and gal) called Team Northern Pride who had an injured team member already. We also chatted starting what was to be a frequent source of discussion during the race, food (we were already sick of our diet of confectionery - not ideal 18 hours into a 5 day race). Approaching 2 am we all started to suffer from major sleep deprivation (more like day three zoning than day one) as the lingering effects of our jetlag hit home and we had to have two five minute catnaps with Carrie, Jackson and I acting like zombies as Neal, fully hallucinating himself, tried to find a minuscule bushwhacked trail down to a river that would lead us to the end of the section. A hour of walking back and forth up the same trail later we finally found it (identifying it only because a branch had been cut rather than broken and some faint footprints) and set off down hill in search of the river. I did try and help Neal with the nav but soon realised that I was talking complete gibberish prompting me to shut up.

Hmmmm. 'River'. I envisaged a stream/river a few feet wide with a nice piece of single track pathway alongside it running for the four of five km's to the last CP and then onwards a bit further to the Transition point. What an idiot. The route WAS the river and it was not really a river at all. More like a tiny stream crossed with branches, vines and all the rocks on the bottom of the stream (which we were obliged to walk through sometimes up to our thighs) being slick with moss and slime. I got somewhat nervous about my shin injury at this point. Only 10 days before the race I had run into a steel post sticking out of the ground on a training run and opened up a gash in my shin two inches long and right down to my shin bone (I could see it through the wound). I was now wading in a stream and I was not entirely convinced my waterproof plaster would hold out and I could end up getting it infected. Not ideal when you are pushing yourself for days on end. At least I wasn't subjecting it to any further trauma however.

Wrong! Following Neal down the stream he stood on a rock that seesawed into the air and I smacked right into with the cut part of my shin. I'm just glad my Mother wasn't there to hear the torrent of curses that I shouted out while Jackson deadpanned 'Oh, that looked a bit nasty'.

I had actually began to notice Jackson was slowing down and was being extremely quiet. This was undoubtedly a thoroughly unpleasant section and none of us were exactly full of the joys of spring but he was being really quiet and was avoiding at all costs putting his feet into the freezing water. Which was more or less impossible. I could no longer feel my feet at all but had decided not to worry about it and just get on with it. As we continued the trek down the river he got slower and slower and several teams had begun to overtake us, undoing a lot of the good, if rather inefficient, work we had done on the trek overnight were we had actually dropped a few teams. Finally finding the last CP (after a big search around for it) we following an unmarked trail down to the Transition area. A further trek of about 3km awaited and at the start of it I asked Jackson if he was doing okay. He replied that he wasn't and in fact was feeling pretty awful saying he thought he had a fever. There was not much we could do about that until we got into the transition where we could get changed, rest and eat so we pressed on.

We finally arrived at the CP (CP11) at 10.38 am and decided to get an hours sleep and have some food before heading off on the mountain bikes. Our support crew had been expecting us since 3am and were worried about us although many other teams had taken significantly longer on the trek section than they had anticipated also. They had also been trying in vain for much of that time to get some mobile phone coverage to call in an update back to the UK so our families and friends following our progress on Eventrate.com would know where we were.

Having had an hours sleep we got ready to head out although Jackson was still feeling bad and decided to see the race medical staff. They examined him and discovered he had a resting heart rate of more than 100 and was running a temperature. Feeling as awful as he was Jackson told me he did not feel that he could continue without significantly risking his health and decided to pull out of the race there and then.

I must confess I couldn't quite believe this and had to seriously resist my initial (and entirely unreasonable) reaction to tell Jackson to pull himself together and just get on with it. My intention, and one that all the team had bought into, was that we were going to finish the race and finish as a four. Even if that meant we would come in dead last to do so. We discussed Jackson resting for longer and seeing how he felt later but he was certain he would not improve in the time and that he would just slow us down so much we might not finish at all. I told Carrie and Neal that Jackson would not be continuing with us and after a repeat of the same discussions I had had with Jackson we resigned ourselves to continuing as an unranked team of three. This was not a good result 28 hours into the race and was immensely frustrating.

As it turns out Jackson had developed a chest infection (that's international air travel for you) and spent much of the next few days in bed feeling even worse than he did when he pulled out. It would have been the wrong decision for him to carry on and would have been a real risk to his health.

Abrupt change of direction

Hello,

Well. Having been a blog focussing totally on my Alaska race (which I am still boring people about even now) I'm going to change this blog a bit and talk about other stuff just in case somebody actually reads it.

For the last couple of years I've been sending out a 'Random Thought for the Fortnight' although of late I have singularly failed to do so due to work pressures and general ineptitude.

Found a good one this morning though, thought I'd share it:

"Sometimes you make the right decision, sometimes you make the decision right"

How true.

TTFN,

C

Fin

Well.... I went to Alaska for an adventure and I certainly got one!

It's fair to say that everything didn't go to plan but then again if it does where is the adventure in that? I think in total I ended up riding about 70 -80 miles out of 350. The rest I walked and used the bike as a trolley/snow plough. I didn't actually 'train' for walking, at all. I met some great great people, saw some fantastic views, woke up to a dawn at Rainy Pass, got frost nip in some fingers, and above all finished. Which is what I went to do. Finish.

Now I am back in the UK I'll be doing a proper write up of the race over the next couple of days but thought I would just pen a quick note to say thanks for all the support from a great group of sponsors, supporters and well wishers.  I cannot tell you what it meant to hear that I was getting such support from my friends and family in the UK and overseas.

Thank you.