Friday, July 04, 2008

Primal Quest 2008 - The Race

Primal Quest 2008 – Montana


The simple description of Primal Quest is that it is an extreme test of human endurance in the form of an expedition adventure race. The race acts like a huge hammer; each leg of the race is a smashing stroke against the willpower and bodies of the individual racers. Every single leg of this race, most as long as a full adventure race themselves– can and will exhaust your strength, break down your body, and test your resolve.


The Team


My journey to PQ was a strange one, one day I got the call from Julie Ardoin asking whether I wanted to join a team that she had been invited to join, Team Blue. Our team was an unlikely band of adventure racers, but somehow I knew we would be a good combination. We were not the hawk faced, chiseled figure, triathletes in matching uniforms. Kent Ryhorchuck was the soul of the team. Kent is a quiet (but opinionated) man with long brown hair and a full beard. He wears a quiet sly grin at all times. He also has an incredible knowledge of what to do in everything dealing with mountains and snow and brought this experience to the entire team. Dom Drouin was the engine and captain of the team. Dom is a huge man with a huge smile and an infectious laugh. He has a French Canadian accent and a talent of producing jokes when needed by the team. Then there is Julie Ardoin. Julie is endowed with some kind of inner strength that allows her to keep going beyond all normal human limits. She is quiet and soft spoken, though in this quiet voice of resolve she was the force that moved the team on when everything else was forcing us to stop.



Dom, Kent, Julie, and Ron



The Race Start

We’ll skip all the logistics that it takes to get a team to this race. Between certifications, gear, travel, logistics, crew, and skills test – just getting to the start line is an ordeal. But around 10 AM as the fog lifted over the mountain we heard a big boom and the teams were off and on their way to the top of Lone Mountain. Lone Mountain is an imposing feature rising over 11,000 feet above Big Sky Resort – it was also my first true alpine climb through snow and scree along a thin ridge to an incredible summit. Once reaching the top, the real fun began with nearly 1000 feet of but-numbing glissade down the back side of the mountain and a short trek back to the resort and the Transition Area (TA). Our morale was high as we quickly prepared for the next leg of the race, an incredibly long mountain trek past some of the most beautiful terrain I have ever seen.




Lone Mountain - Our First Climb

Before this race, I thought of Montana as this large state up north. I had never been there and really had no connection. The place awes you with its beauty. The pictures cannot do justice to the incredible waterfalls, wild-flower covered fields, mountains, and even the wildlife – bears, elk, moose, bison, deer, porcupines, horses, and birds. They all come together to give you the surreal sense that you are traveling through a place that is set aside as a special place where we are just visitors. The highlight of the first trek was probably Ousel Falls, which thundered below our thin mountain path as we worked our way south to the West Gallatin River and the next TA. Our navigation played a strong role in conquering this section. Snow made it difficult to find any of the trails, so we relied on contours, streams, and features to find our way through. The biggest highlight was a stream crossing across a roaring waterfall on a fallen log – the first of many. The sun rose as we reached the valley around Taylor Creek and Check Point 6 (CP6). This was an area of flat marshes where moose graze lazily in the grass covered ponds. We finally made it to the next TA around 9 AM, and donned our wetsuits for the next leg of the course, the whitewater paddling.

The Water

We knew we would be dealing some serious whitewater conditions as we donned wetsuits and prepared to head out in the Duckies (little two man inflatable boats). Water conditions were at historic levels due to large late snows and high snowmelt. The water temperature was a frigid 40 degrees – and we all knew there was a good chance we would be doing some real swimming. The first 10 miles of the whitewater were quite easy as we faced only Class 1 and 2 rapids (that came continuously). Linda was racing ahead of us in the car and stopping to take pictures along way. After about 10 miles we started hitting some Class 3 rapids, which we all handled easily even though the hydraulics on these could easily swallow our little Duckies. And then the river got angry. We were now frantically paddling in different directions to avoid strainers and rocks. I had scouted this section of river from the car days earlier so I knew what to expect – but it was coming by extremely fast. Even the bridges required us to duck as the water was high enough to make the clearance quite low.




Kent and Ron in the Duckie - the front person powers through hysraulics, the back person straightens and steers the boat.


One heart-stopping moment came as we shot around a corner into a large rock setting up a vertical wave. Unlike most waves – a vertical hits you from the side tipping your boat over. We paddled hard away from the rock – but the current was too strong and we were launched into the air, with our boat hurtling sideways. The next sequence of events seemed to happen in slow motion. First, I rammed my shoulder into the side of the Duckie that was supposed to be under my rear pushing it back towards horizontal. Kent, at the same time, grabbed at the underside of the boat with his right hand (99% of paddlers grab for the up, or tipping, side – thus tipping the boat over) and we landed in somewhat of a flat position and stayed in the boat. After a quick breath we turned around to see Dom and Julie flying though the air – 2 people, 2 paddles, and one blue Duckie each heading their own way. There was no time to give to the though of rescuing them as we were heading straight for a massive strainer. We paddled hard to avoid the strainer which threw us into a large series of Class 4 rollers. I kept the boat straight as Kent pulled us out of the successive hydraulics. We were frantic to find an eddy to help our team-mates, shouting to the rescue crews that there was a boat over. It seemed like forever – but was in reality only a few minutes until we reached Moose Creek and were able to pull out. A few worried minutes went by as we waited for our team-mates who showed up, with one paddle and looking pretty wet and beaten.


At Moose Creek we were slightly shaken - but we geared up and headed back out onto the angry river on river boards.

At Moose Creek we were to switch from Duckies to River Boards. We had purchased some awesome river boards before the race. Julie, Dom, and I (and Jamie – one of our crew) had tested them out the week before and felt comfortable river boarding. Dom and Julie were back in good spirits and we set out into the rapids again.


The team sets back out into the ice cold water on our boards.

River boarding has one simple premise, hang onto the board and stay upright. We were having fun – the class 2 and 3 rapids were like riding a cold wet rollercoaster and the boards handled the waves quite well. We bounced, slammed, and slid over and under large waves – hooting and hollering. A few miles downriver we would take out for a medical hypothermia check. This is where things got interesting. I missed the first eddy at the take-out and was thrown a rescue rope. As I grabbed the rope I spotted the strainer that the rope was pulling me towards. At the last second I let go of the rope, bounced off the strainer and went careening downstream towards a set of bridge abutments. (All this was caught on video by my wife). I kicked like crazy and was able to catch an eddy on the far side of the river under the bridge. I crawled up and was cleared by PQ staff to get a ride back across the bridge back to my team (rules prohibited walking along the road – and luckily Linda was able to prevent me from walking across the bridge avoiding a penalty). At this point Dom was slightly hypothermic, but warming up rapidly. And then the call came in that the river was being closed down because the rescue crews were strained to their limit (doing an average of 6 rescues per hour) and felt they could not keep up with the emergencies. So we sat and we waited. About 90 minutes later we were cleared to catch a ride to the TA where our crew had been waiting worriedly to find out about us. All the crews had heard was that there had been “issues” on the water.




After bouncing onto a strainer - here I am clinging for life in a small eddy created by the bridge abutment. My wife caught this as was panicked until I gave the OK signal.




We were cold, tired, so we ate and decided to get some sleep – our first of the race.

The Second Trek

The next trek was actually a series of treks for us. Like all the other treks – it was impossibly long. The first major obstacle was Telephone Ridge. Later our crew (who was tracking us on SPOT) would ask if we crawled on this section. Their guess was not too far off. We climbed along a deep snow covered ridge that was covered with downed trees – reducing our progress to a crawl, and we did it all at night. CP11 was tricky to find because all the roads were covered in snow – so we basically bushwhacked to the correct elevation using the altimeter and found the control. After this we ended up in Wheeler Gulch were we traveled down a gulch trail with impossible canyon walls on both sides. At the base we needed to cross a stream that appeared un-crossable (a raging rapid). Some other teams had found a decent log crossing so one at a time we scooted across the log while team members from various teams set up safety lines downstream in case anyone fell in. We left the crossing at 7:23 AM and headed up the other side of mountain along Cottonwood Creek.


Our team of entrepid trekkers. This was beautiful country.

From there it was up, and up, and up. This was a long slow endless climb with a few navigation challenges again because of the snow covering the trails. We passed the time telling stories and jokes and breaking the trek into smaller bite size pieces. We made the trailhead by noon and rested. We passed Mystic Lake at 4 PM. We made the Bear lakes (and some of the oddest terrain of the race) by 6 PM. I passed the time by marking our progress in hours on the map. We finally arrived at TA5 around 9:30 PM. We would surprise our crew there by immediately jumping onto our bikes (after a little food) and heading out to the next TA 35 miles up (south) on the Yellowstone River.

The First Bike Leg

The first major bike leg of the race was never intended to be a bike leg. The original plan was a 100 mile paddle down the Yellowstone River. The river, however, had risen above the flood stage and was filled with massive floating logs (not sure where they came from), boils, and some serious rapids. So this would instead be a 100 mile (roughly) bike leg with a prescribed course. We got a little sleep in the Big Timber TA (3 hours). This was not a terribly exciting leg and it did give us the chance to stop at a McDonald’s and snag some serious calories. The end location was along the Yellowstone, even though that was not really the end of biking.

The Crazy Mountains (Trek #3)

From the Yellowstone we would ride bikes for about 20 miles into the trailhead at Big Timber Canyon, drop our bikes, and head up and over the Crazy Mountain range. This was the true highlight of the race. It started as an easy trek along a canyon road, which turned into a trail. The streams, swollen with snowmelt roared all around us – and the Crazy Mountains, with their eerie jagged spires gave a dreamlike effect. Our first glacial lake was aptly named Glacier Lake. We had to cross a pass of Conical Peak to get to it, a climb from 8,000 to 10,000 feet, and then a drop into the bowl of the lake. We climbed up an incredible snow slope, with the roaring sound of water nearby. We climbed this with the local team 26 – Team Big Sky. This gave me a level of comfort until I asked them about the roaring water sound.

“It’s water running under the snow pack.”
“Is that bad?”
“Only if you fall in.”
“What should we do?”
"Move faster and get off the snow pack.”


Glacier Lake was frozen with every shade of blue imaginable. It was surrounded on three sides by snow slopes topped by skree ridges where jagged boulders had been placed as if by some insane artist. The tracks of the other teams in the snow led down and around a massive ridge to the next Glacial Lake – Moose Lake. The climbs in the snow (some in the dark) up the incredibly steep slopes were exciting, if not exhausting. From Moose Lake, it was a climb to the third lake, Campfire Lake. It was clear this place did not see too many humans. The snow muffled all noises, so an eerie silence pervaded everything. There, hanging on a lone tree at the edge of the lake, was the checkpoint – looking totally out of place in this absolute wilderness.



Everything is vertical in the Carzies.



I shot this video with my cell phone and no I did not have a signal

Even after the CP we still had to climb and get out of the glacial bowl, about 500 more feet of purely exposed snow and skree at a dizzying pitch. Finally standing on top of the ridge looking back we felt the true wonder and awe of this place. The Crazies were not like the other mountain ranges. They were sculpted into odd shapes and patterns. They were remote and they were stunning in their uniqueness. We still had to get down and out, and it was a long way. The steepness of getting out was scary, and Julie and I both experienced some serious trepidation at going down some of the snow hills we had to descend. But down was the way and we finally went from snow to rock, to dirt, to forest, and then back to road leading us to the small comfort of the TA.

The Second (real) Bike Leg

Our crew – Jamie and Johnny Sheriff are both experienced racers. At this point in the race with a total of 5 days of racing and 6 hours of sleeping we were looking rough. The crew in these races must have a strong nose (we smelled), a pleasant disposition (we were grumpy and short), incredible organization (we always needed that one piece of gear that we could not find). They had to anticipate our needs (I don’t want stew – I want ice cream) and be soothing. We had an incredible crew in Jamie and Johnnie and that allowed us to eat, sleep, repack, eat again, and head out on bikes for the next section – the long bike. This started with a downhill followed by a long slow mild uphill to the remote town of Ringling, Montana – Population 14. At Ringling, we headed onto hard packed cattle roads and started going through small rollers until reaching 16 Mile Canyon Road. This was aptly named as it was a 16 mile long stretch of wonderful road going downhill through a slot canyon. We were able to fly down this canyon at breakneck speeds (I almost hit 40 mph on one stretch). At the end, it was simply following a series of country roads to the foot of the Bridger Mountains and the next TA. The nearly 100 mile ride had caused some butt rash and chafing for my team-mates – I was simply happy to not be on my feet for a while.


The Bridger Mountains (Trek #4)


As incredible as it sounds at this point we had another 24 hours trek facing us, this time the Bridger Mountains. We would start the usual way – by going up. We took a long transition to fuel up. We planned to cross the first major ridge in the daylight and then spend the night trekking up and down over the ridges. On the way up we ran into Blain, Ulf, and Trish (team TravelCountry.com). They had suffered dual disasters – first with a sick team-mate and secondly by getting separated from one of their team-mates who appeared to still be missing. This was a moral blow to me. I was not competing against them, they are my friends and team-mates and I wanted to share the taste of finishing the race with a top team who I knew and had raced with before.


Still the race went on and we found ourselves doing the forever climb. My training strategy of climbing the stair-master and the treadmill and max slope was working. My muscles were handling the climbing quite well. Notice there was no downhill training in that regimen – that would be a mistake that would cost me greatly later. When we reached Sacagawea Peak and the pass (CP21) we had a good bit of daylight and a few teams around us. We needed to pass over the ridge on to the Bridger Mountains National Scenic Trail. Only problem was, everything was covered in snow and there was no clear direction to go. The trail on the map appeared to contour down along an very steep ridge line - but there was no way to do that. To make things more ominous, we could look down into the snow and see fresh boulder paths from boulders knocked loose.


We decided to go straight down into the bowl and then work our way over to where the trail should be. This was another glissade/snow plunge into another bowl. By now, we were getting pretty good at this. As we reached the bottom we did spot the trail carved into an exposed slope and headed that way. Another team had crested the ridge and was looking down. We got to the trail and started our long slow march putting the bowl out of sight. I sneaked one last look at the team that was back on the ridge – they were still there and it was obvious they were arguing with each other.


This section of course was a dream to me. I had an amazing sense of Déjà vu. I felt that I had experienced this place, with these people before. It was also where I would be tested more than I had ever been tested before. We had to climb over 6 major ridges – most of which would take us at least 2 hours. I was experiencing sleep monsters - the worst I have ever felt. Everything in my body said stop and rest. Also, on the ridges there was no source of water. Finally, in a low moment I stopped. I could go no further. Kent was there with a Red Bull, just the smell of the drink promised at least an hour of lucidity. For a while I was back and lucid. I remember stopping at a mountain spring and tasting the best water in the entire world. I remember voices and route choices – that I had to pass off to Kent as I could not even remember my name and age.


The pain had started small when we first topped the crest. I thought nothing of it, it was not blisters – I knew that pain. This pain was different, but it was not bad. By the time we reached the last part of the mountain the pain had become a living thing. Every step downhill was agony. My feet had swollen so much I had to cut my shoes open and then they just swelled over the top. And my pain was not alone. Everyone was in their own private well of pain. Blisters, feet, toes, and knees were taking the shock of it. I had no way of knowing if mine was the worst pain – but I was in my own world now. I called the team to stop and rigged up a cord from of my shoe that allowed me to pull up on my shoes with my hands. This seemed to work a little – it would get me off the hill. Kent took my pack. We went back and forth through switchbacks that would simply not end. I was slowing the team – so I felt guilty. All we wanted to do was get out and get out now.


And then we came out. We were on a road and it hurt less going on a flat road than down a hill. Kent was navigating – I was long past being able to do anything that required thought. I think we got a little lost for a while (I’m not sure, though I remember vaguely doubling back at one point). And then we were in the transition area and the medical tent. And there was one thought screaming through my head – I’ve got another 50 mile trek ahead. A number of things were happening now. Kent’s strength, Julie’s drive, and Don’s spirit and sense of humor had gotten us through the last section. As we came out my wife Linda and kids were there. When I needed a moral boost I would think of them, but nothing is better than actually having them there. Linda held my hand and told me it would be OK. I calmed down and looked at the race rationally. We had a long bike ride, the ropes course, a long trek, and a final push on bikes to the finish ahead. The bike ride I knew I could handle – so I would push the trek out of my mind until after I completed the other tasks. Linda was there and soothing. The team was intact. The medical team was taping my leg. Strangely – I knew this all happened in the day, but in my memory it was dark, or at least it was until Linda was around me – then it was light again.


Bike Leg #3


Even though this leg was painful on the team – it was recovery to me. Kent who was a rock the entire race was dealing with knee pain from an injury back in the river boarding that made riding tough. Both Dom and Julie were suffering terribly from the effects that doing a 3rd long hard off-road ride would have on your rear-end. This ride was a 7 hour climb followed by a one hour screaming descent. The descent was well beyond my abilities and that of my hard tail bike – the one everyone makes fun of. But still with my rim brakes smoking and sparking I made it down one of the most frightening, challenging, and exhilarating down hills I have ever ridden. Leave it to Primal Quest to seek out the best downhill runs and put us on them. Eight hours later we were in the TA at Storm Castle, eating and getting some sleep (this time 5 hours) to prepare for the ropes course.


Ropes and Orienteering


We woke up at dawn to hike (3 miles) over to the start of the ropes course. We knew that the course had taken most teams about 8 hours to complete including the orienteering, so we figured on being out for a while. The ropes course can best be described in the numerous pictures of the course. The course was made up of 6 pitches, one of which was a free climb. Between each pitch you would traverse and scramble on a hand line to the next pitch. The scrambling required a mixture of strength and flexibility. Most of these I simply used Batman technique and muscled my way up the rope. About halfway through, as my sweat caused the nylon to stretch, I had to change the ascender setting on my daisy chain. This was challenging as I had to do it while on a rope. That was a first for me.





Yes it was as high and scary as it looks. We walked along thing (inches) ridges and rocks and roped up amazing pitches.

The ropes course was long and spectacular. Incredible views from dizzying rock spires were the norm of the course. When we reached the top, we decided to find three of the bonus orienteering points and get to the rappel. We were not sure how to get to the rappel (no instructions or trail given here) – so we went the wrong way twice. The biggest challenge of the rappel was the path to reach it – it had been eroded away into loose skree and we were told we could not use this path after we were half-way up. The teams were shuttled to an alternate path and we made our way to the top. Rappelling was fun as it is an essentially no energy sport. We double rappelled – so Kent and I went down together. I had to call for a fireman belay on his rope – the Figure 8 he was using was not giving enough friction for him to control speed. As we hit the bottom we could hear the cheers of Dom’s wife and our crew. We were now getting ready for the next big trek.

Trek #5 Indian Ridge to Ennis Lake


There is really not too much I want to say about this section. We were shuttled to the start and listened to the cheers of our crew and family as we started the long and tortuous walk up the mountain. We hiked and hiked and hiked. We stopped roughly every hour for five minutes to check feet and eat. We tried to break it down into a number of smaller treks setting goals of reaching different areas. There was some navigation involved in areas where the trail was lost due to downed trees. In the end it left us at the top of the final mountain with a steep decent to the road and Ennis Lake. The pain in my tendonitis was killing me, but my team rallied – knocked some sense into me, took my pack and we all made it down. It was getting near dusk when our haggard, worn, swollen, bodies limped into the final TA for some food and a little sleep before the last leg. The trek took us 20 hours.




My favorite pictures of the race. Finally trekking in to Ennis Lake we were greeted by our families at the final TA.


Final Bike Ride

The sleep monsters from the previous trek forced us to get about an hour of sleep before attempting the final bike ride and 2,500 foot climb to the finish line. We knew this would probably be a 5+ hour climb – but would not require too much physical effort compared to the other legs. We were wrong. Julie was audibly sobbing in pain as we started ascending so I took her pack; I was feeling physically strong – my only real pain being my feet and tendonitis. We kept riding and then I saw something that sent shudders up and down my spine – bike lights from another team. We did not know nor care who it was, we had worked so hard – we were not going to lose a place now. Dom impressively grabbed Kent’s pack. Kent put Julie on a tow line and we started what would be an uphill 4 hour sprint. Kent was impressive – you could physically see Julie’s bike jerk forward with each power stroke of his bike. He yelled out to us – “push the flats too – not just the up hills!” – so, we did. He was also navigating and he led the team to the finish line. The folks following us on SPOT said it was pretty impressive how we took off, and we matched times with the best of the teams on this leg.



The Finish



After so much pain and suffering – sprinkled with euphoria, joy, fear, adrenaline, and emotion it was nice to see the finish line. PQ does act like a big hammer with each leg pounding you into submission. You don’t conquer it alone, you bond together as a team, you lock arms, you push together and you withstand its blows through the efforts of the team. If one person feels pain or falters, the team falters – but when we succeed, we succeed together – and this was our success. 15 place. Well beyond ours or anyone else’s expectations for our ragtag group of racers who still do not have matching uniforms.



P.S. For those of you who cannot get enough of the PQ stories the PQ web site has lots of pictures and stories from PQ 2008 - Montana http://www.ecoprimalquest.com/wp-primal/pq/




P.P.S.

NBC Caught Dom and Julies Self Rescue on Film at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i-ZTyGF6o5s&NR=1

NBC Catches Team 8 on Bike on Day 3 Coverage http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uJhbTbVZ7NE&feature=related

If you are interested in more details - I have posted the maps and a detailed analysis of our trek sections at http://trailmaps.pbwiki.com/Montana+-+Primal+Quest

The Wall Street Journal did a great article on PQ - with a nice embedded video at http://online.wsj.com/public/article/SB121695015234783463-OPlHApb8h_XnfvzBDLGT01MDpwY_20080823.html?mod=tff_main_tff_top

The Central Florida Future also did an article on my journey to PQ at http://media.www.centralfloridafuture.com/media/storage/paper174/news/2008/07/17/News/Ucf-Professor.Challenges.The.Limits.Of.His.Body.Mind-3391758.shtml

Wednesday, July 02, 2008

Post coming up

Just to let everyone know I am safe and sound now at the Big Sky lodge after having finished PQ Montana around 1:30 last evening. I cannot even begin to describe how challenging this race was, I am walking (barely) and will have plenty of posts soon. Our 15th place finish exceeded everyone's (including my) expectations. Check back for updates as I have time (now on to cleaning up gear...)