Victoria to Invista: Miles 200-227

Leaving Victoria, I could see a couple of headlights down river and assumed there were at least a few more boats ahead of those. Earlier in the race I had joked with Matt about hammering a pace and racing for 5th place Novice Class. I knew we weren't in the running for hardware and never really saw the point in pushing. Now, for some reason, I was feeling competitive and determined to reel some boats in. I wasn't sprinting, not even close, but I was following Matt's pace and digging hard enough to get us moving. Matt caught on after a while and picked up the tempo. It wasn't long before we started catching boats.

As I remember it, this wasn't a fun section of river to run at night. There wasn't much flow and there weren't any rapids or treacherous sweepers, but there was a ton of junk in the first 10 miles or so. Within 20 minutes of leaving Victoria, we passed the first couple of boats. We'd try to follow them into the junk-filled turns, working off of their lines to avoid snags. When we hit a wider, straighter section, we'd pick up the pace long enough to pass and put on some distance. Most of the teams would speed up after we passed, then drop off pace and fall behind after a few minutes. No one wanted to pick up the pace at night, 200 miles into the race...but no one liked being passed at night, 200 miles into the race either.

Again, details (especially at night) tend to blur together and it's difficult to remember what happened and when. Many of the sweepers (if you can even call them that) clogged and tricky at night, but not difficult. On one particular left turn we ran into a pile of junk and got stuck. I jumped in the water, which was much deeper than expected (like always) and pushed the canoe. When we finally managed to get loose, I climbed back in. It was at this point that Matt asked “did you see that snake”. “No. What snake!?” “There was a snake coiled on that log right next to you when you were in the water.” “Oh. Awesome.” Matt really hates snakes and was really attentive about spotting snakes...and gators. I don't really mind snakes, but I'd rather not be floating next to one in black water in the middle of the night. Ah, the Safari...

In addition to snake wrangling, we were also still participating in a race. Through the first 10 miles of the Invista section, we continued passing canoes. Yet again, we bumped into a Novice team (I wish I could remember their names or team number) that we'd traded places with since Saturday night. I believe they paddled a faster pace than us on day 1, then stopped for sleep some time during the night. They passed us Sunday morning as Matt slept in the bow and we traded places through the next two sections on the way to Hochheim and Cheapside. Apparently, they'd slept even longer than we did at Cheapside, because they didn't catch us again until Victoria.

Paddling in the middle of the overall pack, I hadn't really considered it a race since day 1. We were mid pack, moving at a slow pace, and the top 3 Novice boats were way ahead of us. Still, I had the impression that this team was trying to stay ahead of us. Out of the big pack of Novice boats from days 1 and 2, they always remembered us and seemed to have some thought as to how far ahead we were. This time when we passed, they said “we thought you guys were some where ahead of us”. I was surprised they could even see who it was at night. “Yea, we stopped for sleep at Cheapside and Victoria.” They picked up their pace a bit to match ours and one of them, spotting my Texas A&M Galveston sticker asked me some thing about boat naming conventions. My brain was mushy, so I didn't reply. Maybe he though I was just a dick?

These guys stayed with us for a little while. I believe we passed at least one more canoe before they dropped off the pace. We never saw them again. Not much further into the section, we caught Zoltan. We probably exchanged a few words in passing and Zoltan picked up his pace to stay with us. Running solo, at night, this far into the race, I'm sure he was happy to have some one to follow. Unfortunately, he dropped off our pace before long.

One thing I should mention here is that, within the first 10 or 12 miles of this section, there are (apparently) 3 bridges. I vaguely remember 2 and mostly only remember the one at Victoria Power Plant. http://www.panoramio.com/photo/8782937 I found this photo on GoogleEarth and had to include it. Imagine pulling up to this in the night, barely awake, on a weird, dark river. It looks like some sort of bright, glowing temple in the middle of the jungle. I don't know if my brain ever clicked onto what it actually was, but I can only imagine what competitive Safari racers have thought, seeing this on their second, sleep deprived night after hammering away for nearly 2 days. I do believe that I remember the last bridge of the section (roughly 11 miles in?). If I'm correct, we were near Zoltan or ahead of him as we passed under the bridge. Some one (probably Zoltan's crew) yelled. It scared the shit out of Matt. Possibly I was too tired to care? More likely, I was still sort of lost in my own head, crunching numbers and trying to figure our pace vs miles remaining to determine if we could stop for more sleep and whether we could finish before sunset on Tuesday...

The next 18 miles of the Invista section are, literally, in the middle of no where. The river slows to absolutely nothing, there's a crazy boneyard of stumps and fallen trees, and your brain just dies. Well, ours did any way. Similar to our 55 mile all-nighter on the Brazos River, at about 2 or 3 AM we both bonked. It was like running face-first into a brick wall and I think it happened to both of us at nearly the exact same time. I don't think we were physically exhausted, our brains were just making an attempt to shut down for sleep. When you work and sleep on a “normal” schedule, your brain apparently thinks that 2 AM is power-off time. Our paced felt like a crawl, but I couldn't seem to muster up the energy to do any thing about it.

Time nearly stops in those hours. You slog down river, convinced that at any moment canoes are going to start passing you. They don't. That far back in the back, every one is having the same experience of trying to survive the night. The teams that haven't pulled over for sleep are likely crawling along at the same lethargic pace. Caffeine is a toss up at this point. Maybe it will be the miracle cure, maybe it won't. Nothing was working for us. You keep paddling along at what ever pace you can manage and you wait for dawn. We did make one stop to relieve ourselves in the river. The ridiculousness (ands awesomeness) of whole experience really hit me then. Here we are, floating in a potentially alligator infested river, at 3 AM, in the middle of no where. If that's not an adventure, I don't know what is.

About 4 miles from the checkpoint, we ran into our first navigational challenge. Had we paddled this section of river before the race we would have known exactly what we were seeing. As it was, we could only guess. We were looking at a log jam, with an opening, and three different waterways. The left route was before the jam, the center and right routes appeared after we took the opening, to the right, through the jam. We slowed to a drift and pulled out the gps, which unfortunately, does not show enough detail at this scale. It does, however, give you a good idea of which direction is down river. Matt decided on the “right” route and I agreed. We were correct. You almost have to see this location on Google Earth to appreciate the weirdness of discovering at night. There's an oxbow in the river here that's in the process of pinching off and disconnecting. The river swings left into a long, hairpin turn, but the river is actually open at the base, or it would be if there was no log jam. The left route would have been OK, just longer. The route we took is the shortest, as you're avoiding that whole bend. The center route would have gotten us into trouble, as that would have had us paddling back upstream. Who knows if we would have recognized the same jam, coming backwards at it from around the bend.

This section really surprised us. Neither of us expected much from those 27 miles, but that far into the race, paddling through the night, it was tough. Fortunately, the “hallucination alley” did not live up to it's name for us. No doubt, this section was a strange place at night, it just wasn't the out-of-my-mind experience I had on the run to Cheapside. One story did hold true: the last few miles are maddening. Not long after the log jam you start to hear the Invista plant. The sound gets closer, then further away as the river snakes back and forth. We even spotted it a couple of times, before the river veered off in another direction. At one point I actually suggested that we stop, so I could climb up onto one of the tall banks and have a look. Matt wisely shot that idea down. It was around dawn now and we were awake, although definitely looking forward to a nap at the checkpoint. I had run the numbers, again, and figured that we'd have enough time to nap at the checkpoint, leave before 9 AM, and finish the race before dark. All we had to do was get to the check point...

We weren't far off. After a few hundred more bends in the river we finally spotted Invista. Http://www.panoramio.com/photo/10267481 The joy of the moment was, however, cut short. We had no idea where the check point was or what it would look like. This check point isn't a bridge, like usual. All we knew was that it would be some where after Invista. Well, he we were and no check point. We continued down-river, but started to get a bit nervous. Logically, you know that it's unlikely you could ever miss a check point. But, after a long, tough night, with no solid idea of what you're looking for, things are bit more uneasy.

Matt pulled out the gps and we tried to get some idea of where the checkpoint might be. We noticed there was a bridge coming up and felt sure that we should hit the checkpoint BEFORE the bridge. We spotted a house or a boat or some thing on river left. Is that it? Nope. Now, we were really getting anxious, because we could see the bridge in the distance. Just before we could think about doing some thing stupid, there they were, on a tall, muddy bank on river left. I don't remember being so happy to see our crew at any point earlier in the race. It was a relief. We pulled up, explained to Ed our plans for sleep, and dragged the canoe as far as we could onto the bank. This bank was so muddy and steep there was actually a rope to haul yourself up. While we were negotiating this beast another racer paddled up...from the wrong direction...solo...in an aluminum canoe. Apparently, he and his partner had a big fight after the checkpoint. They pulled over and his partner got out and walked back to the checkpoint. He paddled back, got out, then had to chase the canoe, which had drifted off down-river. We never heard the full story, but we amazed that anyone would want to quit this close to Seadrift. I believe they had a long stop at Invista and eventually continued.

Once again, I was shoveling down a Denti Moore and wandering around looking for a suitable place to sleep. Lucky for us, there were still no mosquitoes and there was plenty of tree cover, but the fire ants were out in full force. While scouting for a spot, I bumped into Travis' parents. After dropping due to injury, Travis' dad had joined his mom for crewing duties. I remember him asking me how I heated up the Denti Moore. I didn't. It's cold. This far into the race, it's still awesome. A cold Denti Moore was the least of their concerns though. Travis had left Victoria about an hour before us and they expected him in by now. Come to think of it, I couldn't remember spotting him at all that night, and we had passed every one. They seemed worried and I wished I could offer more than “well, if he had the same kind of night we did, he probably pulled over for sleep”. Fortunately, Matt had spotted Travis' canoe up on a bank at some point in the night. I had absolutely no memory of this, but trusted Matt on this one, as he usually spotted every thing on the banks at night. As it turns out, Travis must have had a tough night. We probably spent a total of 1.5 hours at Invista and Travis still hadn't shown by the time we left.

Sleep...you elusive bitch. I found a spot for us to lie down and Matt was out immediately. When I wasn't tossing and turning I was getting chewed up by ants. Just to lie down and rest is nice, but it's not a replacement for sleep. It really sucks laying there, not sleeping, knowing that you could be on the river making progress. You couldn't have convinced me at the time, but the sleep stop might have been helpful, in the long run. Matt got some solid sleep and I think a good mental re-charge. This would save our ass later in the day when things started to fall apart for me.

I don't think Ed had to get us up. I rolled over, looked at the watch, and knew it was time to go. I kicked Matt a few times to wake him, then headed down to the canoe to get things together. Another of the Novice teams we had traded places with was on the bank. They were picking up water and getting ready to push on. I talked with them for a couple of minutes. One of them had been bitten by a spider. He had a nice red circle to show for it. Didn't look too bad, but not much fun either, I'm sure. As usual, these guys seemed a bit eager to get moving, knowing they were jumping ahead of another Novice team (us).

Escaping this check point took some time. Matt and Ed fumbled through gear while I waited, feeling more and more anxious. That clock in my head was ticking loudly now. I knew we were getting down to it: roughly 35 miles left, with a log jam portage, and a bay crossing, hopefully before dark. The log jam and the bay were definitely adding to my anxiety. I had a good idea of the log jam portage, although I'd never seen it in person and I'd heard plenty of stories of teams losing hours on this portion of the course. Similarly, I had a good idea of what to expect in the bay and how to navigate it, although I'd never seen it in person and I was dreading the conditions that I almost knew we would run into. Twenty mile per hour winds and 2-3 ft chop don't bother me...but those conditions are absolutely horrible to paddle through in a heavy aluminum canoe. I tried to put it out of my mind.

Finally, around 8:30 AM we pushed off. I was excited to see what was ahead, not knowing, of course, that the next 12 hours would be the toughest of the entire race.