Eastern Mountain Sports Team Blog
presented by EMS

Doing the MIX by the numbers.

Photos by Brian Hudson

Team Eastern Mountain Sports assembled in St Ignace on Sunday, May 27th. Team regulars, Chad Denning of Hanover, NH, Dave Lamb of Kingston, NH and me, Jennifer Shultis of Lexington, MA, were joined by our dear friend and teammate, Vytenis "V" Benetis. V had been unable to race with us in over a year since moving back to his mother land of Lithuania. Map plotting went well, as did packing of team gear boxes. We got two good nights of sleep-so unusual for an expedition race! We arrived well rested to the start line at the Mackinaw Bridge at 7am, Tuesday, May 29.

The race began with a 35 mile road ride to the start of the first paddle along the south eastern edge of the UP as a camera crew in a helicopter shot video footage. I'm sure they were hoping for some exciting a'la Tour de France footage, but none was to be had. We had a pace car to keep speeds in check until the city limits, but once there, instead of having a chaotic, and perhaps dangerous, battle for the lead, teams were smart and nobody attacked. We all chomped at the bit for 35 miles and then descended upon the boat put-in in one fell swoop. Team Eastern Mountain Sports had a quick transition and was one of the first four teams in the water. In the shelter of the Les Cheneaux Islands, it was smooth going and we enjoyed a short turn at the front before being overtaken by some stronger paddlers. We stopped in a cove before heading out into Lake Huron to put on warm clothes. Although we lost several positions doing this, I believe that other teams got rather chilled in the winds and we mostly caught back up anyway when they stopped at the mandatory portage to add layers. We were all in matching yellow plastic canoes provided by Planet Adventure of Indiana and we found them to be ideal, stable boats for this race. When we headed into Lake Huron, waters got rough and I began to get nervous as the size of the swells increased. Apparently I wasn't alone. At the next checkpoint, we were told that we would be taking out early due to the increased chop. 10 minutes later, we were dragging our boats to shore along the edge of the highway. "We can make the next ferry, but only if we SERIOUSLY hurry," announced Vytenis. We all knew what making the ferry to Drummond Island meant--if we made it, it would give us an hour head-start over any team who did not. Missing the boat meant sitting there an hour waiting for the next one. It was too early in the race to benefit from an hour of rest. We threw our legs over our lovely Rocky Mountain Team Elements and were off. We worked at the front for the first several miles with Travel Country, a super strong team of nice people, until a mechanical forced them to drop back. We pushed on in a rotating pace line of our own and watched the minutes click off. We were late and we had been told the ferry always leaves on time, but we pushed anyway. We made the turn to the ferry just in time to see it with ramps pulled up, fully loaded and with black smoke chugging out. "Wait! Wait!" we screamed, as silly as it was to yell at an outgoing ferry boat. We were so intent that I had images of us throwing our bikes over the sides from the docks and leaping aboard in full Captain Jack Sparrow style. This image was interrupted by a man who stepped in front of us waving his arms and yelling for us to stop. "It's not leaving," he announced, "it's just arriving. You made it." Victory dance ensued. We were joined by TravelCountry and at the last moment, by our friends at CheckPointZero. With an hour lead over the other teams, we pace lined together to the Drummond Island Resort and then headed out on the first trek. Giddy over our lead, we did the only thing we could do--lose it.

We headed out at a comfortable jog, telling stories and catching up, when suddenly we realized that we had overshot our turn by, well, let's just say, a lot. "Didn't you guys make the first ferry?" one team asked as we finally approached CP2 of the trek. Yup. That feeling insideâ??that would be "shame." After that little wake-up call, we started nailing the points. We were moving well and when we hit the next checkpoint, we had our first Elvis sighting. Elvis, a fox hound, belonged to a CP crew and this would not be the last time we saw him on course.

We arrived at the TA and quickly transitioned out on the bikes just minutes behind the leaders. It was a fast road ride for several miles and then to a rocky road. Less than a mile into the rocky section, I flatted one of my brand new UST tires. Of course, this happened right next to a swamp, so while Dave and Chad dropped in a tube, I swished a maple branch around them to fend off the swarm of ravenous mosquitoes. We moved very well through this section which contained the rockiest mountain biking I had seen in all my racing in Michigan. This was a bonus for us as we are used to technical riding here in the northeast. One thrill was seeing perfect bear paw imprints in a stretch of otherwise undisturbed smooth mud. That would be the closest I would come to a bear sighting during this race until, well, read on... We took back the lead, said hello to a few teams still out on the trek, picked up an icy cold Coke from the wonderful volunteers at the Marblehead CP and were back to the TA almost before we knew it. We arrived at the kayaks moments after Bagel Works/Absolute-Endo, who had decided to skip the actual TA and go straight to the boats (good move!). We put in and retook the lead, even though Vytenis was having trouble staying awake and had to be put on tow by Dave. I guess paddling just isn't enough excitement for the James Bond of Lithuania!

Once back ashore, a quick look at our watches revealed that if we hustled, we could probably make the next ferry. Bagel Works/Absolute-Endo had the same idea and we all made it with a few minutes to spare. After a hot 70 mile road ride, during which we took our first nap, we arrived first at the Rudyard canoe put-in with about an hour of daylight left. We appreciated the light as we negotiated some tricky snags and submerged logs. The paddle went by in a snap and after a quick transition back to trekking, we were off, stopping on top of a closed bridge just long enough for a quick nap on the pavement, still slightly warm from the day's now departed sunshine. We were soon on our way, but Dave's leg soon became increasingly painful, to the point that he was no longer able to participate in the navigation. Gritting his teeth to keep going took everything Dave had. Chad and I took as much from Dave's pack as we could, but it offered little relief. Between the confusing Michigan terrain and an unfortunate jaunt through the swamp, we found ourselves dropped back to third place. Then after another Elvis sighting and a delicious fill-up of baked beans (those wonderful volunteers!), Hey! We were back in second place! In fact, after the rappel in the quarry, we learned we were just 15 minutes off the lead coming into the next TA.

We were now back on our bikes for what was a short and easy ride on paper, but due to deep, sandy roads that kept your pace just below that which a mosquito could fly and bite you, followed by rough riding next to train tracks, we arrived at the next TA considerably more weary that we expected to be. It was during this ride that I spotted a mama bear and her cub just on the edge of the road ahead. I sat up on my bike and put my hand up to stop my teammates. "Shhh...look. Bears!" I whispered. "What bears, Jen? There are NO bears." they said and rode by me. I followed them and watched as the cub turned and dashed into the bushes while mama bear slowly turned and followed. As I got closer they both disolved into nothing more than shadows created by the trees in the fading daylight. I would spend the next 12 hours wide awake, yet hallucinating wildly. The best part, however, was that I knew I was just seeing things. I would point things out to my teammates, then ask, "I'm just imaging that, right?" I'm not sure, but I think they may have been seeing some of the same things.

Now in Fibron, we were faced with a choice; to do the caving section before or after the orienteering section. We decided to invest our daylight hours into the navigation. We knew that in doing this, we risked getting log jammed at the caves by other teams later, but we figured that the orienteering section would go fast and that we would be back before many other teams arrived. We would be wrong. The orienteering section proved to be very tricky in the dark and Dave's leg was now throbbing. Never mind the blisters that had the rest of us hobbling. He had those, plus the world's worst case of IT Band syndrome ever. He could only keep forward momentum by swinging his leg out and around his body. Anyone else would have quit a day earlier. To add insult to injury, the mosquito population was of epic proportions and very friendly. For hours after we would finish the trek, our ears would still be ringing with the sound of buzzing mosquitoes. As the Grinch would lament, "Oh the noise, noise, noise, noise!" We were forced to wear our rain coats to protect against the hungry buggers and we quickly became experts in our understanding of the limitations of head bug-netting. Deet was viewed as nothing more than a challenge by them. Eventually, driven to distraction by the mosquitoes and confused by the ambiguous terrain, we figured we might as well sleep. We lay down, pulled our rain gear and head nets as tight as we could, and let the sandman carry us away from the incessant buzzing. After we awoke, everything made sense--well, mostly. We knocked off the remaining CPs and were back at the TA. We hobbled to the caves, arriving seconds before getting log jammed by the next team (phew!), and proceeded through the beautiful white stone passage-ways. The water inside was both shockingly cold and a welcome relief to our aching feet. We were soon back on our bikes and headed out on a short, but drowsy ride to the last paddle. We would be sleeping in beds tonight.

But not before we would be sleeping in canoes. It's a funny thing how a tippy canoe and whacking your knuckles repeatedly on the edge of a boat as you fall asleep does absolutely nothing to help wake you up. Sometimes you just need to sleep, and that is exactly what Dave let me do for 5 minutes. I call it "hitting the reset button" and that is no exaggeration. I woke back up, totally refreshed. V was having his own wrestling match with the sleep monsters in the other boat, so he and Chad changed positions. We saw Elvis for the third time, and this time it meant that we were saying goodbye to the last river CP and heading out into the Mackinaw Straits for the last bit of paddling, before a short bike ride to the finish line. We were over an hour behind BagelWorks/AbsoluteEndo, so we knew there was little chance of catching them. We could only focus on getting to the finish line without falling apart-- it is never too late in a race to get passed.

We arrived back at the Mackinaw Bridge at 9:35pm--86 hours and 35 minutes after we had left and to once again finish, in second place. In the end, it's true what they say-- You can't win them all. You go and try to do your best. We won't make any excuses. We had our share of bad luck and our share of good luck--it wouldn't be an adventure race without it. The challenge is always to stay focused, communicate and efficiently manage both the mistakes and the hard knocks that come your way. Getting over the finish line as friends, proud of what you did well, and with something to concentrate on improving upon the next time is what keeps us coming back. Hours later, after a solid night of sleep, we packed up the team vehicle and finally cracked open a six pack of beer. At the same moment that we raised our bottles in toast, the Queen song, "Another One Bites the Dust" came onto the radio. Seriously, I can't make that stuff up.

Our heartfelt thanks go out to all of the incredible volunteers who each contributed in their own, unique way to making the race an unforgettable experience. To the organizers at Infittera Sports, who don't do anything if it won't be first rate. To their families, who support them in their efforts. And to our friends and families--thanks for cheering us on from home and loving us, even if we are all a little touched in the head.