Staples to Gonzales: Miles 16 - 85

Staples to Luling 90 is probably the most technical stretch of the course. Other sections come to mind as far as the amount of junk (submerged logs, downed trees) that litters the river, but none are as consistently narrow AND junky as this section. Oddly enough, I don't remember many details from this part of the day. Not far past the check point there's a downed tree that spans across the entire river, with a small gap that you have to shoot on the right, near the gravel bar. Fortunately, portaging across the gravel bar is not an option as the owners have installed a barbed wire fence that runs all the way to the water. Thank you for simplifying the decision. That was very kind. Of course, we did make the gap and it was probably as sloppy as every other time we've been through there. This clip is NOT from the Staples to Luling 90 stretch, if the “Mile 13” title is correct, which I assume it is. However, I feel that this gives a good idea of the kind of junk you navigate through on the Staples to Luling section.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SR8cIDXOMFI

As I mentioned in the last post, we continued to trade positions with other back of the pack teams. There are no portages in this section, but many teams had crew meeting them at bridges along the way. We'd pass them as they were taking on water or talking with their crew. Eventually, some of them would pass us again. We stayed with our “cruise mode” pace, focused on the idea of conserving energy on day 1 and finding our groove on day 2. For the most part, we didn't mind being passed, but some teams seemed really determined to pass us, then not so determined to actually maintain a pace once they had passed us. What can you do? You sand bag it on day 1 and that's what you get...I guess. I'm not sure what the mileage is on these next two clips...but we're in them, so I'll do a bit more self promoting. Skip to the 4:30 mark of the first clip and you'll see us in a few seconds. Skip to the 8:45 mark of the second clip. You'll notice in both clips that I'm either eating or digging around for food. Haha. You'll hear more on this later. These clips do give a good idea of the pack we were riding in on day 1.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B3AFmCLDSNw&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B3AFmCLDSNw&feature=related

There were some “entertaining” mishaps and near misses on this section. One sweeper was almost completely choked with logs. After sweeping out near the bank, I failed to see the slot on the right and tried to steer us left, where we ran straight into the junk. After climbing out, dragging over the crap, climbing back in, and bitching at each other, we had a quick conversation about steering. Matt was annoyed that I missed the turn. I was annoyed that I was expected to do all of the steering. We agreed that there's no way I was going to see every thing from back there in the stern, with Matt right in the center of my vision. Matt would have to be the spotter in the bow. We were never able to completely commit to this method, but it did work well through out the rest of the race and was our only option on night 2, when I started hallucinating from lack of sleep.

Another interesting mishap involved, not surprisingly, a sweeper with a large stump. This sweeper was very shallow with a stump sticking six feet out of the water at a 45 degree angle. Unfortunately, the stump was directly in the line of flow, just past the shallows. If we cleared that one in training, it was just barely. We weren't so lucky this time. Instead of fighting across the inside, we were swept out towards the log. I ruddered on the right and brought the bow around enough to clear. In the next second or two, it became obvious that I would not make it. The stern was going to swing under the stump and there wasn't enough room for me to duck or lean back. Option 1: get knocked out of the boat by the stump. Option 2: flop out of that boat, like a kook. I chose option 2, diving over the side of the canoe...like a kook. Not the most skilled way to approach the situation, but we lost nothing in the process. Matt heard me hit the water, turned around and asked “what happened?”. I climbed back into the canoe and recounted my harrowing escape from almost certain death. Just then, a guy in a solo boat paddled past us (having taken the inside line) and said “thanks for the line”. Yea...you're welcome.

A key feature I should mention from this section of the course are the hordes of beer swilling, river lounging vacationers. The family crowds on private property aren't much of an issue, unless they're all sitting right in the middle of the river, which they apparently do on occasion. Rather, the campgrounds are where you find the most entertainment or frustration, depending on your point of view. Enough people to span the entire river. Of course, every one will be crammed into a small area directly adjacent to the camp ground access, because wading away from this area would waste valuable energy and would place you further away from those 6 cases of beer. It's surprising that people can be so oblivious to any thing and every thing around them. What's even more surprising is that they can be so oblivious to any thing and every thing going on around their children, who are invariably playing right in the channel that 100 canoes are attempting to navigate. Fortunately, this was not quite as bad as Memorial Weekend, when we had to get out of the canoe a couple of times to avoid running over unattended children.

Aside from the crowds, we still had plenty of sweepers to negotiate. Much of this went as expected, sloppy, but no disasters. We still had boats around to follow through these sections: crunch, smack, “OK, don't take the route they just took”. Hearing some of these composite boats grind out in shallow channels, we were (for the first time) glad to be in an aluminum. More than once we saw a solo boat get “wrapped” going through a sweeper. As I said before, we had a serious lack of course training. However, we had been through this section a couple of times in training. This paid off. We remembered several of the “problem spots” and either knew how to navigate them or that we should just hop out and drag through the shallows. One particular spot, not long before the check point, was a downed tree that was just above the surface, across the entire river. I'm not sure if there was a “skilled” way to navigate this. In March, we tried to run up and over the lowest spot, missed, swung the canoe into it sideways, and had to crawl on top and heave the canoe over. On Memorial weekend, we still got wet, but we made our way a bit more cleanly over the shallower spot. Knowing that we were nearing the check point, we waited for this spot and didn't see it. Possibly, some one with a 6 man canoe got a little happy with a chain saw before the race...

Not long before Luling 90 a group of boats, including Debbie and Amy, caught up to us. On our Memorial weekend run, Debbie and Amy launched at the same time as us. They had plenty of course practice, but were really worried about making the first cut off. We were both happy to see them there, as they were now guaranteed to make it. At our easy pace, we'd cleared the cut off with an hour to spare. Not as fast as we would have liked, but we hadn't expended much energy either. We pulled up to check point 2 amid a crowd of swimmers and race crews. A little further down stream we found our crew, who had picked out a great location away from the traffic. Once again, we pulled onto shore just long enough to toss out our drinking jugs and pick up one ½ gallon each. Zedler Dam was only 6 miles away and we'd have to stop here any way to mount our light, take care of a few small things, and portage. This is a clip of check point 2 at Luling 90.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YpPETDf_Ajk

The 6 miles to Zedler Dam are mostly uneventful. There's a bit of current and junk for the first couple of miles, then the river widens and slows as you get closer to the dam. Faster teams set “Palmetto before dark” as a goal. We would be pulling into Zedler Dam just before dark, meaning we'd have to run the next 14 mile stretch to Palmetto in the dark. Neither of us had ever seen this section before. I was a little concerned and had actually been collecting info from other racers who had seen the section. Some of it I already knew and some of it was extra details. There are a couple of junk filled sweepers just past Zedler, miles and miles of more junk filled river, Ottine Rapids, Ottine Dam, and Palmetto Bridge. Nothing to do at this point, we'd see it all soon enough.

As we were approaching Zedler we passed a table on river left with, what I'm assuming were TWS officials? Matt yelled up and asked how many boats had come through. “A lot.” OK, I guess we have been paddling slowly. “What place are we in?” “71st.” Apparently, we were pretty far back in the pack. I didn't bother me too much, I knew we'd been sand bagging all day and we were never really going to be “in the race” any way. Still...I planed on running straight through the night and and all the way through the next day.

Pulling up to the dam, volunteers were trying to direct us to portage directly over. We wanted to drag up on the bank instead and take care of some things. We should have listened to them, it would have saved time to portage directly over the dam, then take care of every thing on the gravel bar across the river. Another mental note for next year. I remember seeing Nancy pull up as we were stopped. We wouldn't see her again for the rest of the race.

This was the first in a series of lengthy portages for us. We mounted the flashlight, took care of some body maintenance, then dragged the canoe up the hill, around the concrete slab, and down the rocky bank. I don't remember why, but Matt ended up in the water on this portage. I think he waded in to pull the canoe out, then stepped off into deep water. I paddled across to the gravel bar as Matt swam after. I thought it was pretty funny, Matt didn't. Our crew met us on the gravel bar to swap water jugs and to get instructions for the next check point. I remember telling them to get some sleep at Palmetto...I think they just drank more beer instead. This is a good view of Zedler Dam, with some of the faster teams portaging.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PPqawZUrNtU&feature=related

We bumped into a 3 man boat (who we'd been next to at check in) after leaving the dam. They were fully set for night travel...sort of. These guys had what I'm assuming was rope lighting rigged all the way around the inside of their canoe and they had some dance music pumping out of the speakers. We would trade places with these guys for a while and, as with pretty much every boat from day 1, we'd never see them again.

We'd heard about a nasty sweeper not far past Zedler. It didn't take us long to find it. Actually, it wasn't much of a sweeper, just a left turn clogged with junk. During the daylight, we might have seen where we were going and been able to squeeze through on the right. Going left, we ran right into it. People were up on the bank some where in the darkness trying to direct us to go right. Of course, we couldn't see them or where they were pointing and it was too late any way. Nothing to do but climb out and drag over. This would be a big theme for our first night of the Safari and would set off several hours of bitching, by me. I was cursing that river and could not wait to hit the Guad. There was nothing demoralizing or discouraging about it, I'd just had enough of being in a bow heavy aluminum canoe and running aground on every bit of any thing. I was ready to get the hell off of the San Marcos and on to the Guad, where we could finally paddle.

Aside from the typical San Marcos junk, the main obstacles on this section were Ottine Rapids and Ottine Dam. If I'm correct here, Ottine Rapids are the remnants of an old dam. As I said, we'd never seen this section and we didn't know that teams were portaging here because of the low water. Approaching in the darkness, we heard the loud roar from the rapids and back paddled to stop the canoe and try to get a look at what we were about to hit. The rapids are a sort of tall, rocky slope, so we could only really see the top and where we would enter. Well, pick a spot and go. That's what we did and other than running aground (imagine that...) on the way down, we didn't have any major issues.

Two miles of beautiful, pitch black, log filled river and we were at Ottine Dam. Fortunately (and I really mean that) the TWS has lights, portage signs, and volunteers set up at every dam, because they can really sneak up on you, especially in the dark. Case in point, on a San Marcos training run Matt asked “what's that up there?”. Being a smart ass I said “water”. About 5 seconds later I noticed we were almost on top of Cummins Dam. “Oh, good call, Matt...”.

Next to the log jam, Ottine Dam was the biggest pain in the ass. After pulling the canoe ashore, you drag up the tall, steep, sandy bank and get your first view of the 1 mile trail that you have to portage. OK, so it's not really 1 mile (not even close), but it felt like it that night. We really struggled on that portage, though we did survive, and probably didn't not take much time. Actually, I can guarantee it took less time to portage than it did to wait for the two boats in front of us launch down that steep bank. To be fair, it was a tricky spot to launch and we likely weren't so quick with it ourselves.

I can't tell you much about the next couple of miles to Palmetto. It was dark and we weren't feeling so “thrilled to be there” after the portage. Honestly, it was one of those times when you're REALLY just ready to get to the check point, pick up your water, and hit the reset button. Before long, we came around a corner and there was the low bridge at Palmetto State Park, packed full of race crews waiting for their paddlers. After yelling out our boat number, we jumped out and just barely managed to squeeze our canoe under the bridge, to avoid portaging over, which neither of us wanted to do. Our crew was on the bridge, so I tied us off on the other side so we could empty trash, get new water jugs, and prepare for the rest of the night.

This was another slow transition for us. Well, in comparison, we probably didn't lose too much time at Palmetto. Mostly, I was getting anxious seeing a couple of canoes pull out before us. This is the first check point where teams start pulling over for sleep. On the way to Palmetto, we paddled near another aluminum canoe, although they were paddling with double blades. One of the guys asked us if we were planning on sleeping, because they were stopping at Palmetto. I assumed they were a little unsure of the plan and were debating on whether other teams were doing this. From what I gathered, a lot of the back of the pack teams do stop for sleep at Palmetto. You can see a bit of this in the race results. We were in 73rd place at Staples. We had only moved up to 70th place by Luling 90. By the time we left Palmetto, we had jumped up to 63rd place, most likely due to passing teams as they were sleeping at Palmetto.

Still, after seeing other teams leaving I was ready to run. Matt finished what he was doing, we got a couple of tips from the check point official about what was directly downstream, and we set off. Maybe we should have picked up a few more tips, because on the first turn we stuck to the outside and ran right into a dead end channel. I wasn't happy and I took the opportunity, once again, to curse this damn river and wish I was on the Guad already. Curses aside, we backed up and took the correct route. Not long after, we ran aground on more junk...son of a b****!!!

It was 25 miles to the next check point at Gonzales and I can only remember pieces of it here and there. For a while, the river was much the same as the previous section: dark, narrow, and clogged with junk. I started getting really tired at this point and tried paddling for a while with my eyes closed to relax. Me and Matt both popped a Vivarin, Matt got more of a boost than I did, shouldn't have had that iced coffee in the afternoon. As the night progressed, I started getting cold and sick. Neither was a huge surprise. After paddling all day in 90-100 degree weather it's not uncommon for paddlers to get cold on the river as the temps “cool” off. Similarly, I'm not exactly the first person in the history of the Safari to get sick. I knew that if I just sipped some water and ate some thing fatty (fritos and sausage) it would pass sooner or later. Being cold was a bigger problem that I needed to deal with, so we took the opportunity to pull over on a gravel bar and stretch. While we were stopped, I changed into some pants and popped a pepto pill.

We lost a bit of time on the gravel bar, but it seemed as though we made it up before too long as we started passing one sleeping team after another. I don't think we ever considered stopping for sleep. Our all-niter on the Brazos gave us confidence that we could push through the first night and re-charge when the sun came up. The closer we got to dawn the better I felt. I wasn't cold or nauseous any more and I was slowly waking up as it got lighter. We continued to pass sleeping teams all the way through dawn until we hit that last stretch before the Guad.

I suppose Matt's Vivarin wore off. He started falling asleep, paddling really slowly, and missing the water on almost every stroke. It might have been funny (OK...it was) had I not been so anxious to get to the Guad and Gonzales. I could see there was no point in pushing on like this, so I told him to lay out in the bow and get some sleep. We'd made a deal after all: help me steer the boat on day 1, be a mule on portages, get us off the San Marcos, and I'll push through the next day with out sleep. Matt held up his end, time for me to do some work.

Paddling solo wasn't much of a problem. Short, quick, light strokes, don't waste energy trying to move the canoe fast. I was probably moving at 60-70% of our tandem speed, so you're not sacrificing too much speed for 15-20 minutes of sleep. A couple of the sleeping teams passed us in this time. The Novice team asked if we had slept. I think they'd stopped for 1 hour. A C2 passed and laughed at Matt's snoring...it was loud. When Matt woke up, he didn't believe me.

Soon, we were on the Guadalupe. The current was still very slow, due to the dam in Gonzales, but the river was now much wider. A few miles of easy paddling and we were approaching Gonzales Dam. Neither of us had been here before, so we weren't sure of the portage. There's a steep hill on the left and a steep bank on the right. Another team was on the left, so we pulled up and asked them which way to go. They said the left was the longer, safer portage, or some thing to that effect. We decided to go right, muscle the canoe up the bank, and take the shorter route. Mean while, one of the remote control chopper cams was flying overhead. It was kind of funny at the time.

I don't remember having too much trouble with the bank or the short portage trail...but I doubt they were easy. At the end of the trail, you have another one of those funky, rocky slopes to negotiate, similar to Zedler Dam. We had to wait on a couple of teams here and once again, I had to slow myself down a bit and remember that not every one was portaging an aluminum canoe with reckless abandon like we were. Fortunately, in a few minutes, we were back in the water and on our way. Not long after that, we were at the check point. This was an exciting landmark for me for a few reasons. The course would be significantly different from this point forward: wider, less junk (mostly), and longer sections of flat out paddling. This next section (Gonzales to Hochheim) was notorious for it's ability to induce mind numbing boredom. I knew this and was very focused on maintaining my drive and momentum. I tend to get bored on long training runs and I didn't want that attitude to affect the race. Finally, once you leave Gonzales, statistically, you have a much higher chance of finishing the race. Some teams quit at Hochheim and some teams DNF further down the course, but many teams that DNF pull out at Gonzales.

I tried to move as quickly as possible, knowing there were other teams on the gravel bar and still other sleeping some where near by. We got fresh water jugs, Matt took care of a few things, and I took a quick dip. We learned that two canoes had set out with only 1 paddler. I'm not sure if it was injury or the reality of 2-3 more days on the river that caused those guys to pull out. The check point official that told us this also reminded us that quiting is mental, not physical. Just keep paddling. We intended to. We set out from Gonzales in 55th place, with a 36-38 mile stretch of river ahead of us. There are no bridges or access points for crew...you're in it all the way until Hochheim. It was almost 9:00 AM. We'd be paddling right through the heat of the day. I wouldn't realize it until we were well past the check point, but we'd just made our first major mistake. We had left the check point with only 1 gallon of water each. We had completely forgot to bring the extra gallon that we would certainly need. I was VERY worried that we might have made a big enough mistake to cost us a finish...