Rev3 Adventure Team Blog: Rev3 Cameco Cowboy Tough

Rev3 Cameco Cowboy Tough Expedition Race - Day 1

Curt Gowdy State Park to Medicine Bow, Wyoming

July 18, 2013

Rev3/MK 4-Person Team: Britt Mason, Greg Voelkel, Fritz Pameijer & Emily McDonald

Rev3/MK 2-Person Team: Dusty Reppuhn & Cory Mason

Race Report By: Emily McDonald

Cowboy Tough. When I first heard about this race 7 months ago shortly after joining Rev3/Mountain Khakis I was determined to earn a place on the race team for this event. Now, here I was, over 1,800 miles from home and preparing to set out on a 3 1/2 day, 400+ mile adventure through Wyoming's back-country with my three other teammates. I'm also thinking what the heck have I gotten myself into? We're starting the race at just over a mile above sea level (aka our normal elevation), this is my first time racing for over 24-hours, it's Britt & Greg's 2nd and well at least Fritz has a handful under his belt, we're up against some of the best teams in the world, and I still suck at paddling.

Hmm....sounds like an awesome adventure :-)

We got rolling before the sun on July 18th, our two Rev3/MK teams double-checked our packs, bid farewell to running water, air-conditioning and readily-available electricity, and boarded our buses for the 3-hour drive south to Cheyenne from Casper. Fairly uneventful bus ride, as we all pretty much passed out until the sun came up and then the excitement and nerves started!

Arriving at Curt Gowdy State Park just outside of Cheyenne a little before 9am, we found our bikes ready and waiting to go. With one of the more exciting (and film and photographer filled) race starts I've experienced, all 80 racers gathered around Matt Mead, the Governor of Wyoming, who afters some kind and encouraging words, circled us on a horse and shot his pistol and we were off!

Giddy-up! Let's get this thing started!

The race started with a 5-point orienteering course on foot. We set off at a pretty good clip, but as soon as we started uphill, the fact that we were around 8,000 feet above sea level hit me at least like a brick wall. Lungs hurt, legs hurt, my head was spinning. This is how I feel after a long run - not 10 minutes of running. Hello Wild Wild West! But we were racing, so I gulped down some water and focused on where we were going. Greg and Fritz had the navigation dialed, so we easily punched our first points and then much to my relief, transitioned to our bikes.

The start of adventure races still seem very hectic to me (this was my 5th AR to date) and I consistently feel that I'm all thumbs and have no clue what's going on for at least the first hour or so. That was definitely true on the trek, but once we hit the single-track, I started to feel at home. The trails were in amazing condition and were so much fun to ride - gradual climbs, sweeping descents and around every corner a new and gorgeous view of the landscape. My legs felt okay, but my lungs were still protesting the decreased amount of oxygen in the air. I wonder if Jens Voigt ever has to say "SHUT UP LUNGS" as well....

Even with the fast pace, I still made sure to take a few seconds to capture the amazing scenery as well as my awesome teammates especially while we were all still smiling. The trails at Curt Gowdy State Park were unlike anything I'd ever ridden before. They just went - it was challenging for sure, but you could roll everything and roll it with a smile on your face. If the single-track wasn't enough, every corner you came around, you'd have an amazing sweeping view of the rugged Wyoming landscape. With biking like this - you can sign me up to go ride out west any time!

Fritz and Britt enjoying the single-track!

Another Rev3/MK Terri was working the volunteer station as we exited Curt Gowdy and headed off toward Vedauwoo and Medicine Bow National Forests. We were stoked to find out we were the 4th through! Not too shabby for the somewhat rookie East Coast team! We hit some fire/dirt roads for a bit, but then were back on single-track heading toward a few more checkpoints and the ropes section!

Adventure racing is FUN!

En route to the rappel we came into our first "temporarily dis-oriented" moment. The trail we were on split into several trails, and it was difficult to tell what was a real trail vs. what was an antelope and/or cow trail. (oh yes, we were riding the "open range") You miss your trail by 5 feet because there are two trails and one's blocked by a fallen tree so you take the other ... and well ... you walk around in a field of juniper bushes for about 15 minutes. At least it smelled nice and gave us a chance to re-fill on water from a nearby stream. We got back on track and arrived, still smiling at the ropes section. Helmets, harnesses on it was time to go. I "volunteered" (i.e. got way too excited) to wear a helmet cam - so still excitedly waiting the footage from that! There was a fun scramble to get to the top ... here's where having teammates helps as I needed a boost to tackle a boulder or two.

Up on top we had three choices of rappels. Big surprise here (note sarcasm) when we opted for the "fun" (aka hardest) rappel that dropped us over two rock lips and then down to the ground. Greg went first followed by Britt, who rappels like a rock-star. She impressed even the ropes safety personnel who were guiding us through. Having not rappelled in oh about 7 years or so - I was a little nervous to say the least. But we had great support and in no time at all I was dropping rather rapidly over the edge of the cliff and back on solid ground in a moment. My next question - "Can we do that again!"

Back on the bikes for more single-track adventures and checkpoints. We ran into Dusty and Cory along the road as Dusty stopped for a minute to put on her "clown face" (i.e. sunscreen that blocks the sun and next closest star) which was a nice surprise. They seemed to be doing well and having fun along the way. We rolled through Vedauwoo enjoying the awesome single-track despite a mid-afternoon thunderstorm. As luck would have it, as soon as I pulled my waterproof jacket out, the rain let up a bit, but the rain had cooled things off so I was thankful for the little extra warmth. My only regret here, was the altitude was making me feel pretty fatigued and little hills that should be no problem were exhausting. Luckily I was fully stocked with my favorite PowerBar Gel Blasts, which pretty much taste like gummy bears, and after a few of those, I got my oh probably 3rd wind of the day. We wrapped up the single-track before tackling a truly white-knuckle descent down to Laramie. I love my 29'er hard-tail, but with the long rocky descent, I found myself wising for full-suspension and at times a full-face helmet. We survived, bikes & all to keep on pedaling to the next checkpoint.

Rolling into Laramie with smiles still from the descent, our smiles grew upon reaching the Wal-Mart where we quickly stocked up on fresh-water, Gatorade and Snickers bars. Nothing but healthy essentials of course :-) We swung by All Terrain Sports to pick up another checkpoint and then it was time to hit the road for the ~60-mile ride from Laramie to Medicine Bow and East Allen Lake where the first transition area and end of day would be located.

Greg set a pretty fast pace out of the gate as we rolled down Wyoming's route 30. Road racing experience from earlier this year definitely came in to play as I tucked in behind and rode in his draft. We could see the Snowy Range off in the distance and more looming rain clouds up ahead. And then of course, it started pouring. Silver lining, was due to the wide open plains, we could see the end of the rain and had a double-rainbow off to the east! Crazy weather out here. Mark and the race photographer Chris Radcliffe passed us, honking and waving on their way to the TA. Chris shot an amazing photo of our group rolling down the road with the storm behind us.

We rolled into Medicine Bow around 10pm to the cheers of some locals out enjoying watching the race. Luckily we had minimal wind heading toward Medicine Bow, but on that last turn, we turned into a headwind that dropped our speed in half. I don't think any of us could pedal in a straight line for the first kilometer or so due to the crazy headwind. It was a painful 2 miles to get to the TA but at least we hadn't had to deal with that coming in all the way from Laramie.

There wasn't much but cacti and juniper bushes in the area, plus it was dark and windy so a few of the checkpoints proved slightly challenging, but in the end, we found them all and were able to punch the end of day right around 1am. This also earned us about 5 hours of bonus time since we had cleared the course and finished before 6am, when we'd be allowed to leave TA. Now, it was time to configure some sort of sleeping arrangements on the sandy ground, grab as much shut-eye as we could and prepare to tackle Day 2.

Day 2 - The Death March, Rattlesnakes and the start of the Crazies

No alarm needed to get up this morning as racers were stirring at first light (and before) I put away my make-shift bed, shoved down a Power Bar and some Gatorade for breakfast, loaded my bin with the help of my teammates and got ready to roll out promptly at 6am.

There was no way around it - today was going to be a long day. We had a 40(ish)k bike, followed by a 19k trek to the Seminoe Reservoir where we'd jump in canoes for about a 30k paddle across the length of the reservoir, to a nearly 40k orienteering course that would take us to the TA for the night. Whew. Big. Day. Ahead.

I got to unleash a little of my inner mountain bike racer when the peloton of teams took off at 6am and there was an immediate break by some of the top elite teams. Greg gave me the go-ahead to bridge up to them and I shot wide right around the pack to catch up to the group that was quickly breaking away. I was able to catch onto the tail end, with Greg, Fritz and Britt right behind. Whew. Little extra effort there would hopefully save us some energy down the road as we could tuck in with the pack and take advantage of drafting. And for me at least, it was motivational to be able to be riding in a pack with world-class teams such as Technu Adventure Racing and Dart-Nuun. Made me feel that at least my biking skills weren't too horrible :-)

Rolling out of Medicine Bow at 6am

In one of those surreal movie-esque moments as our pack of ~20 racers rolled up and down the dirt roads with the sun rising to our right, a large herd of antelope was seemingly running alongside us. Unreal...and of course - only in Wyoming!

We picked up a checkpoint along the way, and soon rolled into transition, where I was stoked to see my favorite volunteer, Terri, smiling and ready to help. I find in the big crazy races, when you're a little scattered, it's the littlest things that help the most - here as I was juggling swapping out shoes, and securing my bike gear, Terri held my half-eaten Power Bar for me for a minute and that made me feel a lot less scattered through transition.

Trek to Seminoe Reservoir

Locked and loaded, and now it was ready for the ~19k trek to Seminoe Reservoir....aka the Cowboy Tough Bataan Death March. There were no more CPs between the TA and the reservoir, there would also be no shade nor water, just 19k on a hilly dirt and gravel road at 7,000 ft. Seems easy ... right?

Greg and Fritz setting the pace on the Death March

Luckily for us, it was still fairly early in the morning and the heat of the day had yet to set in, so we headed out with spirits high for the next leg of the adventure. We were able to jog the downhills and the flats, which shook up the monotony of the long road. This was also time for recapping war stories from past races and and life as we know it. At one point, our trek was momentarily interrupted by a close encounter with one of Wyoming's more notorious natives ... Crotalus viridis concolor aka a Rattlesnake!!

My inner Indiana Jones wanted nothing to do with the little bugger who was in the middle of the road and seemed more than slightly perturbed (a car had just passed). Greg was a bit braver and posed for a picture with our new-found friend before we carefully skirted its path and carried along our way.

Greg making a friend in the desert

Just as we started to run short on water, we thankfully reached the turn-off for Seminoe Reservoir! Just over a mile to go until a little "rest" in the canoes. We noticed another 4-person team, I think it was YogaSlackers 2nd team coming on strong behind us, so upped the pace a bit for the final stretch to the canoes. I wasn't feeling so hot at this point and so it was time for my first tow of the adventure to give me a literal step-up as we finished out the trek. And while at first it may have seemed a mirage after 19k of trekking through the high desert, there was a reservoir, canoes, a Rev3 tent and some volunteers with Gatorade bottles! Whooohoo!.

Paddling Seminoe Reservoir

We slogged our canoes down the reservoir bank, kicked off our shoes to air our trek-weary feet out and set off on Seminoe Reservoir to paddle its length. I have a love/hate relationship with paddling. It's nice to get off your feet for a bit, but my cycling background has left me with nothing short of little T-Rex arms and an overall lack of upper body strength, so I pretty much suck at paddling. Today though - I had a few things going in my favor, my teammate Chuck, had loaned me his awesome Epic paddle (carbon winged blade baby!) and just as in the Rev3 Shenandoah Epic, I was paired in a canoe with Greg, who is pretty much the energizer bunny when it comes to adventure racing. He made up for my lack of paddling skills and gave me some paddling pointers as we cruised through the lake. Britt's an awesome paddler, as is Fritz and I was just excited that we weren't slowing them down. I even had my first brain fart out on the paddle where looking across the lake and what appeared to be a lot of little white boats on the far side --- the conversation went as follows: "Oh look, is that a marina?" "No Emily, those are rocks." Win.

As we headed toward the pull-out, the wind and inevitably the chop started to pick up. The grip on my paddle tightened as I had flashbacks to paddling (and swallowing half of) Delaware Bay in early May. Fortunately for us, we were able to get close to shore and scoot across to the take-out without much ado. We'd later find out that a majority of teams, including Cory and Dusty would encounter a much rougher lake with heavy chop and winds, causing them to have to beach their canoes / kayaks and wait out the wind around the lake. Luckily everyone came out OK - but I'm thankful we got across when we did.

The Big O Course
By now it was around 3:30pm (if I remember correctly....) and we took a little time in transition to adjust packs, clean up some looming blisters and re-fill on water before heading out on the ~35K orienteering course for arguably the rest of the day and night.

I was stoked because for the first time after a paddle, I didn't feel like death and we were able to head out at a pretty decent pace to get the first points near the lake. Fatigue did start to kick in a little, but Britt to the rescue with some snacks.

Seminoe Reservoir was being let down for management reasons, so that gave us some interesting paths to take to points. Walking from scrub-brush to dried lake-bottom in a matter of meters made the first points pretty interesting and at times, felt as if we were walking across the Sahara due to the amount of sand we had to trek across. But unlike the Sahara, en route to the next point, we headed up a hill and were back to rocks, juniper bushes and pine tress.

Snow removal?? Not today at least .... Britt & Greg on the O-Course

At this point, we still had a fair amount of daylight, water and energy and the navigation was spot-on, there was just moving forward with little looking back or down. We had a lot of ground to cover before trying to make TA in the wee early morning hours. We passed a few of the elite teams - which was motivational, knowing at least we were still somewhat on the same field as them. The course took us back around the reservoir, where we took 2 seconds to get a quick peek at the dam and what we had paddled earlier in the day.

Seminoe Reservoir from the O-Course

From our perch above, everything looked calm and peaceful on the reservoir, giving us no clue as to what our teammates were dealing with at that moment. From our vantage - all was peaceful and calm.

We kept knocking points off, one at a time as the sun started to sink to the west. And soon we'd have to make a decision on whether or not we were going to push to clear the course. The ever-optimistic rookie in me has the "of course we'll clear it" mentality, but as darkness fell and we were looking into a potential 9k loop to gain 2 points, the decision was made to forgo those two points in the hope we'd bag the remaining points and gain some sleep. Based on our current rate of travel - if we went for those points, which included a trek up to over 8,000 feet, we'd only make it back to TA around 7am. while forgoing those points would put us in around 3:30 - 4am, giving us a few hours of sleep before the required 8am departure from TA. These decisions always hurt, but taking into consideration at this point we still had over 36 hours to race, we needed to save our strength and energy.

I'd heard that things start to get kooky the 2nd night of a multi-day race, but given that we'd got a few hours of sleep on night one, I figured we'd be safe from the midnight madness and while for the most part, we made it out okay, the 2nd night did have its challenges. We were moving along at a steady pace, and the guys navigation was on ... until we came to an "intersection" with an "unnamed road." Our maps had multiple "unnamed roads" and while we were told that many of them would be private driveways, by this point we were trekking around the Seminoe / Pathfinder wildlife area, where we had to stay on trails, so our hope was that the "unnamed road" would be a jeep trail or fire road. But, to our dismay, when we came to the "intersection" by the light of our headlamps, there was only one trail to be found.

O dear.

Unfortunately, there had been extensive wildfires at Pathfinder over the winter months, so the place was a bit of a mess. Throw in moonlight and headlamps to guide your way with barely detectable trails and all of a sudden you feel that you have no clue where you are. Trying to keep a positive attitude, and possibly influenced by a lack of sleep, the first bit of midnight madness began:

Britt: "Where are we?!"

Emily: "Wyoming!"

True, at this point, we only had a vague clue where we were on the map, and a number of checkpoints still to go. Little bit of a scary feeling. But - this is why we have a team, and teammates who know how to get us from being completely lost to knowing where we're going.

We found a power-line and a trail, granted a trail through a burnt-out section but we found it and gradually made our way out of the woods and back on track. Here, both Britt and I succumb to a bit of the midnight madness as the conversation went as follows:

Emily: "Look! There's another team following us! I see lights!"

Fritz: "No, that's the moon"

Britt: "No -- I see them too -there's another team back there following us!"

Fritz: "No - that's the moon, wait until we get out of the woods ...."

Five - ten minutes later ... "Oh...that is the moon...."

Now we had three points to go until we could put our feet up for a few hours. Luckily the next points didn't cause us as much trouble ... and the sleep deprivation continued to sink in as the moon and clouds played tricks on our eyes and provided some entertainment ("Hey Britt ... that cloud looks like a bear humping a turtle" "What?!...Hahaha, omg it totally does!") You can feel you're losing your mind in the middle of the night, but when your teammate is right there with you - it makes it hilarious.

And soon enough - we were done. We left two points out there, but rolled into TA a little past 4am. Time to swap out kit and socks, and tonight, crawl into my dry-bag and emergency blanket to get some sleep before it would be back to the bike at sunrise.

Day 3 - Nosebleeds, Handcarts and the Home Stretch

Good morning Day 3!

My newly-discovered sleeping contraption of a dry bag + beach towel + emergency blanket led to a surprisingly restful 2ish hours of sleep on night 2 ... so much that the sun waking me up was slightly disorienting for a moment, a moment where awesome race photographer, Chris Radcliffe, was able to capture. (Which has now become a popular meme across my office...."You did what?" Face-palm...) Even with a few hours of sleep, the morning was a little rough as I awoke to chilly temperatures and blister-covered feet. Our game-plan was to leave TA just before 8am, and when the sun woke me up at 6:30am, I rolled right over to first aid, where the awesome medic team set to work on my nasty blister-ridden feet. I've gotta give these guys props and HUGE thanks since this wouldn't be the last time they'd get up close and personal with my well-traveled feet.

Today would be another big day and our last big push before our "Champs-Elysee Day" on Sunday. After a decently long bike, there was a small O-course at the Pathfinder Reservoir, and then we'd be faced with a decision to travel an additional 80K round trip out to Martin's Cover for 6 optional checkpoints and the race's handcart challenge, or go 10k to Alcova Lake and get an early start on the last O-course. At this point we knew a podium finish was a long-shot, but we were sitting in 5th and pushing could potentially move us one spot up to 4th if we pushed it today and did the handcart challenge. A team decision was made to give ourselves until 2pm to get to the intersection for Martin's Cove so that we could get there and complete the challenge by its 6pm cut-off. Giddy-up!

Biking to Pathfinder
With my feet wrapped and ready to roll, we set out with spirits high for our last full day on the range. We had 50K ~ish of biking to get to a small O-course near the Pathfinder Reservoir Dam. Along the way we briefly stopped to pick up a checkpoint at Dome Rock but then it was back to the grind. It took me a little while to get my legs wanting to actually function, but once I did, the sunshine and cool (for now!) morning air had me energized and loving every minute. We goofed around a little on the descents, laughing and seeing who could fly down the hills faster. By this point in the race, I was definitely starting to master bombing the downhills with my pack. At one point as we headed toward another checkpoint at Fremont Canyon, my bike computer registered 60km/hr. The wide and winding roads made it easy to fly, but 60km/hr on a mountain bike! Crazy!

Stopped quickly at Fremont Canyon to pick up another checkpoint and had to stop for a minute to enjoy the view and take a breather. Fritz's nose had started bleeding but he stopped it up and we pushed on. Wyoming has so many amazing natural wonders - and even though we were racing, there were a few times we couldn't not stop and enjoy what we were racing through!

Rev3/MK Ladies at Fremont Canyon

Back on the bikes for the final push to the o-course near the Pathfinder Dam. I was feeling pretty good and snapped a few pictures while riding ... and hindsight I'm wondering if this was a sign that my sanity was already starting to teeter...day three a long bike with no shade and here I am grinning like a 5-year old Christmas morning.

Bicycle fun!!

My grin, however, was a little short-lived once we got to Pathfinder. I hopped off my bike only to find my ankle in a lot of pain. I had rolled it the night before on the big o-course, but figured it would go away with enough Advil....but apparently that was not the case. But here's where having a firefighter as a teammate comes in handy -- Britt helped the medic staff wrap my ankle so it'd be stable and not irritate me for the rest of the race. We lost a few minutes here, but at least we got to sit in a rare bit of shade before heading back out. My ankle wasn't 100%, but I could move on it and not worry about further injury.

Pathfinder Trek
While short (only 3 points) the o-course trek proved fairly challenging as we had a bit of rock-scrambling to get up to one point and then head down to the reservoir and dam for the other two. Heading toward the dam there was a woman offering her car's air conditioning to us for a few minutes...sweet offer, but we were on a mission! Points obtained, we stopped briefly to fill up on water and hike back up to get our bikes. All seemed smoothly until I got that feeling in my nose, when you know it's about to drip and you know it's not snot ... my turn for a bloody nose. Ugh. I didn't think it was worth stopping for until Britt noticed the trail of blood following me and we took a few seconds for Greg to hand me some TP to use as a plug and wipe the rest off. Gross.

Pathfinder Dam letting out ... probably about the same as my nose letting out!

On the upside -- the were letting water out of the Pathfinder Reservoir, which was pretty neat to see. It was hot enough that I wouldn't have minded jumping in the rushing water and tubing the rest of the way back to Casper on the Platte!

Westward Ho! Martin's Cove Handcart Challenge
But now it was time to jump back on the bikes and with time on our side make the push out to Martin's Cove. The heat was bordering on oppressive and I was feeling anything but 100% but we had less that 24-hours to go to the finish and I knew (errr....thought) I could handle that.

The 40k out to Martin's Cove bordered on miserable. We were riding on the shoulder of what equated to a highway, with, you guessed it - no shade, and throw in a few semi-trucks cruising past at 60mph and it was a little rough. A brief saving grace came at Independence Rock, where we stopped to grab the checkpoint and - miracle of miracles - sit down for a few minutes in cool green grass(!!) under a tree! It was a little oasis of heaven for a few minutes.

After that - it wasn't long before we arrived at Martin's Cove for the handcart challenge. More grass, shade, running water AND real toilets here. Talk about a treat!! Plus - Terri and my other new favorite volunteer, Eric, were there manning the station. Always great to see friendly faces and get a hug :-)

My oxen died crossing the river so I decided to pull the wagon myself!

We changed into our trekking shoes, got a little more water and went to grab our handcarts to set off on the 5 mile loop where we'd get a few checkpoints along the way. The handcart challenge was to help us explore the history of Wyoming and re-enact what some of the mid-19th century pioneers went through as they crossed the Oregon Trail as well as the Mormon Trail. The carts weren't light but it did allow us to take our packs off for a bit while we trekked. Totally felt that we were somehow thrust in to a live-action version of Oregon Trail from my elementary school days ... at least no one got dysentery!

At least for me at this point, all the checkpoints and trekking were starting to blur into a long line of "left foot, right foot, left foot, avoid cacti, right foot, watch out for saw grass ... " and so on. We were moving forward and that was at least a plus. Thankfully about halfway between sets of checkpoints, some clouds rolled in and gave us relief from the heat.

Somewhere between the 3rd and 4th checkpoint, while stepping to avoid yet another antelope skeleton, I got that funny feeling in my nose right before it again started dripping blood. Awesome. More TP up the nose. Bagged the checkpoints and grabbed our carts to head back around before pushing back to Alcova, but by this point my energy was plummeting. Food wasn't helping as much as it should and while I felt awake, I felt a little bit like I was in what my Mom used to call "La-La Land" but couldn't snap out of it. I focused on getting back to my bike, where I hoped I'd snap out of the fog I was in. Terri ran by our group heading out to sweep the handcart course, and as she frequently takes on the role of my big sis, I put on my best "I'm having the time of my life" grin and waved so she wouldn't know I was on the brink of disaster.

The Breaking Point (aka Emily falls apart)
After the longest 5 miles of my life, we were back at the starting point, and were able to drop the carts and take a quick re-fill break before getting back on the bikes. I dropped my pack and started to jog for all of 3 yards to the restroom when, well, things literally exploded. I felt a blister swell and explode on my foot in a matter of minutes and, let's just say when I had to sit down because my feet were in so much pain, it wasn't the most comfortable experience. My new-best-friend EMT came to my rescue again and cleaned and wrapped my disgusting feet (the dust in this part of Wyoming gets EVERYWHERE) so I was in somewhat mobile shape to get on the bike. My team patiently waited, and Britt helped me get pulled together so we could tackle the 50k back to Alcova. But just as I was about to climb on my bike, my nose started gushing again, and with the EMTs there, there was no just plugging it, I had to sit down for a minute and drink some water until it stopped bleeding. There was blood on my race bib, my nose (more on that later...) and my pack. Awesome. Took a deep breath, pulled myself together once again and, Greg gave me a very much big-brother-esque smile and held out the tow line for me. I was bordering on a disaster. Eric was helping out as we pulled out, and in a moment of lucidity, I told him to "Tell Terri, I'm doing awesome!!" because I knew she'd worry if she found out how much of a mess I really was, and well, she had her volunteer duties to do and a lot more things to worry about than me and my chronic bloody noses. I forced a lop-sided grin, hooked up to the tow line and prepared to get pulled back to Alcova like a small child.

Back on the Bike - Martin's Cove to Alcova
Admittedly, I don't remember much about this bike leg. I tried to eat and drink, but that's kind of hard when you have toilet paper shoved up your nose and you've got one hand clinging to a tow line attached to your teammate because if you let go you're going to go backward and fast. It even pretty much hurt to talk at this point, so I kind of numbly stared at the road ahead of me and my bike computer as the kilometers every so slowly passed by. That's not good either because as soon as the sun went down, my eyelids started to droop and I had to take a pit stop to shove down some food-based form of caffeine so I didn't pass out and fall over, taking not only myself but Greg out too since I was attached to him. The ride was mind-numbing. Pedal, pedal, pedal. Don't hit the rumble strips. Or maybe hit the rumble strips so you keep yourself awake. Either way ... the road seemed endless.

But after a bit, either the caffeine kicked in or I found my 8th wind of the race and started to come back from the dead. Terri and Eric drove passed us, honking and waving and that provided a much-needed break from the monotony of a straight paved road in the high desert at night. The final 10k to Alcova was a downhill, which brought all of us out of the comotose state and energized us. We took a brief pit-stop at a closed convenience store to grab, and share, a cherry Pepsi from an outside vending machine. It was the most delicious thing in the entire world.

Just after 10pm we rolled into our final TA to make a quick turn-around and hit the O-course. I dropped my bike and sprinted (relatively speaking...) for a port-o-potty when I heard my name, saw a flash and a very familiar face -- Mike was there!!! He had volunteered to bring supplies out to TA so he could see me, since no outside support was allowed. I vaguely remember thinking "Oh, how nice, Mikey ... but what's he doing here?!" And apparently the look on my face says it all as well ...

"Oh! Hi Mike!!" "Ummm, Em - there's blood on your nose"

Put the bikes up, changed shorts & shoes and between being tired and zoned out, I opted to keep my bike helmet and head light on instead of switching to my normal trekking light. At the time - it just seemed like the easier option, so yes, I would be trekking in a helmet. The bustling of transition energized me even more, and as a HUGE surprise and help, volunteers were handing out cold Gatorade to the racers. This was almost as good as the cold Pepsi! But perhaps what hit the spot more than anything at that moment, was bacon. Awww yeah --- in West Virginia, Dave introduced me to the glory that is pre-cooked bacon and the magic powers it has in the witching hours during a race.

Mmm...bacon.....

Final Trek and O-Course
Helmet, bacon, Gatorade - 6 optional checkpoints to go - let's do this!! We headed out, spirits high, ready to tackle the last major part of the race and last opportunity to get points that could decide our final placing. The last day, or what I equated to our "Champs Elysee" day, where no one attacks, was designed to be more of a "fun" day with a straightforward course to the finish. So this was it, this was the last big push.

Unfortunately - I really only remember about half of it. This is what you've all been waiting for, this is when Emily really looses it.

The first few checkpoints came fairly straightforward, a lot of trekking up and around the lake-shore, more lose terrain, more juniper bushes, more cacti. It was pretty cool though - at one point Fritz found a few geodes! I think everyone was getting a little tired, as at one point we got totally turned around and had to scramble up a cliff. Little scary. Back on track, this is when things get fuzzy. Headlamps are great, but cast funny shadows, and at times give you tunnel vision. Soon I started thinking I was walking through a forest, or through tall boulders. Neither of which was true, but the shadows of my tunnel vision created this environment. I'd close my eyes for a second, thinking it'd help with the tiredness, but then I'd open them 30 seconds later to find I was pointing in a completely different direction. I was pretty useless to my team at this point, and since wandering off and mumbling to myself weren't going to help either, I got bungee corded to Fritz. And then Fritz, being the awesome teammate he is, had the job of keeping me going and talking so I didn't fall asleep and fall over. I don't think some of my answers to his questions made sense (sorry about that Fritz!) but I managed to stay awake and in one piece long enough to get most of the points.

Around 2:30am we had one more point we wanted to hit before we could stumble back to TA. It was a point at the top of a steep cliff that we'd have to scramble up. I was just having trouble walking in a straight line at this point, so the idea of having to scramble up a cliff was pretty daunting. Greg went up first, sending down some showers of loose dirt and rocks, which made me even more nervous. Not only was it a cliff, but it was covered with loose rocks, dirt and oh yes, cacti and saw grass. Wheee. I was next, with Fritz following me, carefully suggesting route choices, and Britt reminding me not to stand up straight. I'm pretty sure they were both expecting to have to catch me at some point. But I'm not sure when I either a) got annoyed with the cliff or b) remembered my balance but I stopped being shaky and nervous and scrambled to the top. Point in bag!

But now we had to come down. I hate climbing down when I'm functional in the daylight, so non-functional at night on a loose slope was a new sort of torture. I was sure I was going to tumble bum over tea-kettle down into the lake. Teammates to the rescue!! Fritz put his mountaineering skills to work and got me step by step down the cliff. Back on horizontal ground --- we were almost done! It was back to TA for maybe a wink of sleep and then push to the finish!!

We finally rolled into TA at about 10 'til 4am. And I know this because the crazy fast teams, like Technu and Untamed New England's 2-man team were up and getting ready to leave TA when the dark-zone ended at 4am. I was so out of it by this point, I pretty much collapsed into a useless heap on the ground while Greg, acting the awesome big brother, pulled out my trusty dry-bag so I could pass out, but not before making sure I changed out of my disgusting socks, finished a can of Chef Boyardee, and a bottle of Gatorade. I have the best teammates. I pulled up my emergency blanket, closed my eyes and was dead to the world.

Day 4 -- Home Stretch!
Just over an hour later though - we were up and pulling ourselves together to make our final push to Casper and the finish line. I surprisingly felt OK, even though my mouth and stomach weren't having anything to do with most of my food. Paydays, Fig Bars and the new Power Bar Banana-Blueberry energy blends were about all I could handle. Hello Day 4.

Dusty and Cory waited for us and all of Rev3/MK rolled out of TA together for the last time. The sun was starting to come up and it was going to be an amazing day. We had a short ~25K bike to our paddle, which would take us to Casper's whitewater park where we'd jump on riverboards, ride the rapids for another 3miles and then trek about 1 1/2 miles to the finish line. We were almost done. It's a strange feeling - excitement, exhaustion, relief, and even a twinge of sadness to leave this amazing experience - making the whole bike ride feel very surreal.

Are we there yet? Are we there?

Arriving at the paddle, we didn't have the best boat selection, causing Greg and I to get stuck with the "S'canoe" some odd mix of a skiff and a canoe that ended up being a floating brick. I don't think it helped that both Greg and I kept dozing off while paddling. After 30 minutes of trying and failing to keep up with Fritz and Britt in their normal canoe and Dusty and Cory in their kayak (lucky ducks!) we broke out the trusty tow rope and tied the two canoes together to move us through the water. This expedited our progress a bit as we wound down the Platte with Casper as our focus. We went through a few small rapids which helped the time pass, but every now and then I'd find myself "air-paddling" as I dozed off for a moment. Oops.

I think the only time I was happier to see a take-out was after my first paddle during the Rev3Epic this year, but we had made it, S'canoe and all. Now the hard part was just dragging our trusty vessel up the boat ramp. Boy that thing was heavy!

Heavy little S'canoe!

Mike was volunteering again at the take-out and it was great to see him. Of course he laughed noting that I still had blood on my nose from the previous night. No time to get pretty in adventure racing! We secured our packs and whatnot, grabbed our river-boards (i.e. boogie boards!) and waded back in the river to check out Casper's Whitewater Park and ride the rapids almost to the finish.

Hey Em -- there's still blood on your nose

Riding the Rapids and the FINISH!!
Ready to push to the finish, I grabbed my board and waded into the river. I wasn't quite sure what to expect and admittedly was a little nervous - the waves looked big and normally when I go through rapids I'm in a nice solid raft ... not hanging onto a boogie board. But we had our PFD's on and bike helmets (safety first) and after my stomach did a loop-de-do on the first wave, I was grinning ear to ear. River boarding rapids is awesome.

In the 'thick' of the rapids at Casper Whitewater Park

Britt riding the rapids

Fritz catching a wave!

Greg tackles the whitewater with our not-so-dry drybag

After way too much fun on the rapids, we exited the river and soggily trekked the last stretch through Casper toward the finish line. It was a little weird walking through "civilization" after having been in the wilds for the past 3 days. I was excited, relieved, happy...just a complete mess of emotions. A year ago, I only vaguely knew what Adventure Racing was, and now here I was, finishing what was billed as one of the toughest races in the U.S. and finishing with a smile.

Rev3 has one of the best finish line experiences - no matter who you are or your finish, there is a crowd of people cheering, clapping and dinging cow-bells upon your arrival. We were dirty, sun-burnt, blistered, bloody and soggy, but we received a rock-star's welcome to Casper...