Last Saturday I ran my first canoe race. It was the Jr. Texas Water Safari that is run on the first 16.5 miles of the TWS course on the San Marcos river from City Park in San Marcos to Staples dam. I wanted my cousin/paddling partner, Robo, to do the race with me. I thought it would be a good workout and an even better learning experience. Long story short, he didn't do it and I was on my own. I had already decided I was going to do the race with or without Robo. I had also decided that I was going to rent a plastic boat for the race. This section of the river is among the hairiest of the Safari because of the dams and rapids. That makes it very dangerous as far as damaging you boat. I wasn't going to risk the Raptor and I promised the owner of the Rainmaker that I wasn't going to take it on the San Marcos. The plastic rental is virtually indestructible and not mine, so it was an easy choice. The main drawback is that plastic rentals are SLOW. Plus, the one I got from Spencer Canoes didn't have a foam seat or any way to rig water jugs or bottles. The Jr. was going to be a glorified training run for me anyway, so speed didn't matter to me too much. I thought ahead and brought a foam seat and some velcro to rig water bottles.
I left work early on Friday and picked up another Houston paddler, Kayak Raider, to carpool with. Kayak Raider is a very experienced paddler and volunteered to give me the scoop on the course on the way. We drove to Spencer's to pick up my rental boat and reserve a campsite. I had decided to camp since it was convenient to the start. We then went to a spot on the river in San Marcos called Rio Vista. It's the site of a former dam that's been broken to create a paddlers' park of sorts. It's basically and 3-tiered rapid with a chute going down the middle. Kayak Raider wanted to practice running Rio Vista in his very tippy K-1 boat, which is basically just a narrow racing kayak with a composite (carbon) hull. We met another guy there, Mad Moose, who was doing the same thing. We also met one of the elder statesmen of the paddling community, Omar, who used to paddle but now just likes being around this stuff. He likes it so much in fact that he made a special trip from wherever he lives just to watch these guys run Rio Vista in K-1's. One of the guys brought a video camera to tape the runs. Apparently, running Rio Vista in a K-1 is a fairly rare event. These guys were making out like this was an historic event. Running the rapid in a K-1 certainly requires a lot of skill, but even I thought they were going a bit overboard. I had my wide plastic boat along to run it too. Each guy made a couple of attempts at it, falling out of their boats after the first chute. On the third try Kayak Raider made it. Omar hollered triumphantly. I ran the video camera.
After the successful run, I got in my boat to do it. I wasn't really apprehensive about it at all; maybe I should have been. I knew the likelihood of falling out was remote since the boat I was in was about as stable as the come. Besides, I didn't care. I had a very aggressive attitude about the whole thing - I was going to run every rapid and obstacle except for the mandatory portages around tall dams that were unrunnable. I paddled into the chute and tried to just keep paddling; trying to get through as fast as possible. The first drop is about 3 feet or so, the second two are half that. I came through easy. I only ran it once, but I felt confident going into the race about my decision to run everything.
We got some dinner and went back to the campground at about 10. We set up our tents and bullshitted for a while and went to bed around 11:30. We set our alarms for 6. I didn't sleep all that well; never do in tents and sleeping bags. At 4 a rain shower kicked up and I had to get out and put the rain cover on my tent. I didn't really ever get back to sleep after that. I was excited and a bit uncomfortable. Still, I didn't really feel exhausted. I had probably gotten around 4 hours of sleep all told so I felt okay at 6 when I got up for good. I had rigged the seat and velcro on the boat the night before. In the morning I prepped my water bottles with Gatorade and some stuff Kayak Raider gave me called Cytomax or something. It was some kind of energy drink with protein that all the paddlers use. It tasted a little chalky, like protein powder, but not too bad. I ate a Clif bar and had some water and Gatorade for breakfast. We got the last of our gear together, broke camp and headed for City Park.
There were tons of other cars on the highway with racks and racing boat on them. When we got to the park I saw many of the people I knew of from reading about the Safari and on the message boards. There were 49 total boats in the race; all either single or tandem. There were none of the six man boats that the Safari is famous for. I looked around at all of the racers. I noted several other plastic boats that were similar to mine. One in particular was a sit-on-top like mine, though a little longer and narrower. The guy paddling it was a stocky Mexican dude. I decided then and there that I was at least going to beat him. I signed up, paid my $25, got a T-shirt and made some last minute adjustments to my boat and gear. On a whim at the last minute I tied a rope to the stern of the boat. I didn't know how I was going to use it, but the guy I rented the Rainmaker from had lines from the bow and stern so I figured I'd just copy that. The race director announced that the race would be starting in 15 minutes and people started putting their boats in the water and getting warmed up. I did the same. My boat was heavy and I had a hard time carrying it to the water's edge. That's the other thing about plastic boats - they're heavy. Mine weighed about 65lbs. unloaded. I added another 8-10lbs to it with water and other gear. Plus, it's really hard to carry your paddle and your heavy boat at the same time. I had no idea how I was going to handle the portages.
I got the boat in the water and paddled upstream a bit to get warmed up. I worried about being stationary in the current. The rows of boats were forming up as the race director counted down the minutes. I positioned myself well back of the front line and in front of those who were obviously not interested in going fast. I hung on to some exposed plants to keep still. When the countdown reached 15 seconds I released and started slowly forward. They reached zero and shouted "Go!" I tried to watch the front line because I'd heard what a melee it could be. I didn't have a good look at it so I just started paddling hard myself. When I looked up again I saw that one racer had fallen out of his boat and was in the water. It was the guy I had ridden with from Houston.
The adrenaline was definitely up, but I tried to keep a reasonable pace. I'd never paddled 16 miles before so I needed to conserve my energy as much as possible. The current was running pretty fast, so everything was flying by. I had to make several quick decisions about which line to run to avoid trees and branches and bridge supports. With no rudder on my boat I had to steer with my paddle. Stroke on the right makes you go left, brace stroke (sticking the paddle in the water as if to stop or slow down) on the right makes you go right. You want to throw as few bracing strokes as possible so as not to lose speed. I tried to stay on the tail of the Mexican guy I was racing.
Before I knew it we were upon Rio Vista. It was hard to see the chute from far away; there's just a negative edge and that's it. The channel isn't visible from the boat until you're right on it. Mad Moose had actually marked the chute earlier in the morning, so that helped. I also just watched the guys in front of me go down it to know where to go. I hung back a bit to give the Mexican guy in front of me plenty of room to clear out. The rest of the area was littered with boats and floating paddlers who had tried to run it and fallen out. I started paddling hard for the chute. I made it through the first one no problem. Past the second and I bumped someone's riderless boat. Just past the third chute I ran over a guy who was hanging onto the side of his boat. I also saw Mad Moose, who had fallen out of his K-1 and was struggling to the bank. I asked if he was allright as I floated by but all he did was yell at me to get past him.
A little past Rio Vista I saw an aluminum boat coming up fast behind me out of the corner of my eye. One of the guys said something like, "Now we've got to find a way to get around this guy." They said it to me, even though it wasn't addressed to me. Right then, the bow of their boat hooked the side of my stern and they spun me out into the brush along the bank. As they went by one of the guys gave a sarcastic "Sorry." I replied, "No you're not." I knew they had spun me out on purpose. The inflection in the voice and the fact that they didn't have to touch me to come around me told me they had done it on purpose. I was fucking pissed. I got myself straightened out as quickly as possible. I was going to try to catch up to the assholes. I didn't know what I was going to do exactly, but it didn't matter because I couldn't keep up with them anyway. Being spun out had put me about 30 seconds behind the Mexican, which was the thing I was maddest about.
The first portage came up quick after that. I knew that there was a right and left portage. The people in front of me were going left, so that's what I did. I pulled up to the bank that was choked with tree roots and concrete. There was a steep dropoff from the bank. I had a hard time getting out of the boat. I drug the boat onto this concrete apron that sloped back down about ten yards to the river. There was a lot of confusion at the portage with other boats and paddlers scrambling around trying to get back in the water as quickly as possible. I was very clumsy, but I eventually made it back in the boat and started paddling again.
I paddled for a long time before anything else really exciting happened. The current was fast and there were constant decisions to be made about which line to take. I stupidly cut across turns instead of riding the faster current along the outside. It was slower and I burned a lot of energy doing it. I ducked under branches, or "sweepers," hanging over the water. I got raked by more than a few. There were tons of partially submerged trees. There are a lot of tactical issues that arise in this sport. The river itself creates most of these issues and makes canoe racing different than running or cycling, which I think is more straightforward - just go faster. Staying out of obstacles and picking fast lines of current keep you constantly on your toes. I made a lot of tactical errors, mostly by not staying in the fast current and being too timid, slow and clumsy at the portages. I took notes of the mistakes made by people around me. I came up behind one guy in a fast solo boat who bottomed out on a partially submerged tree and got stuck. He was in the only runnable channel so I knew I was going to either have to stop altogether or hit him. I hollered out, "Coming up behind!" When I got closer I yelled out again, "On your left." I thought I might be able to squeeze by. I nudged his boat on the side and actually reached out and pushed him over the limb. He never looked at me, but said, "Thanks" as he paddled off. I grabbed the back end of his boat for a second so he could pull me off the stump. The Mexican made a similar error by getting hung on a stump that was too shallow to float over. The difference with him was that it was in the open river and there was plenty of room to pass it. I don't know why he went over it at all but it allowed me to catch up to him. I tried drafting him for a while. In paddling that's called "wash riding." I could definitely tell that I was exerting myself less when I rode his wake. It was hard to stay in position, though.
Eventually we came to the next portage, Cummings Dam. I could see boats veering off to the right and I steered that way as well. The Mexican was about ten yards ahead of me as we pulled off to the side. He made another tactical error by getting out of his boat too soon. The water was deeper than he thought and he sank and had to swim the rest of the way to shore. I saw this and paddled all the way to shore. I should have gained a minute or more on him but I looked at the dam and the portage trail and wondered just what in the hell I was going to do. The dam was a sheer drop of at least 20 feet. There was a narrow concrete wall to the right where people were walking down to get below the dam. The walkway was about 18" wide and bordered on one side by impenetrable tangled brush and on the other side by a sheer drop to the rocks below. At first I thought I was going to carry my boat down the path. I tried to lift it and I couldn't get it all the way up. For one thing, I was weak with exhaustion. For another, the boat had several gallons of water in it, which probably meant that the boat approached 100lbs. I looked at the narrow trail and down to the rocks below. I had the fleeting thought that I could very well be crippled or killed here. I also thought that people must be fucking crazy to do this shit. Mad Moose had suggested earlier that I just toss the plastic boat over the edge and let it crash to the ground below. I felt too guilty to do that. Then I remembered the rope I had tied to the boat. The rope! I set the boat on the edge of the dam and began to lower it down. The Mexican had already gotten his boat over and was on the trail to get down. I got the boat all the way down and started down the trail myself. Several other guys in plastic boats who were in my class arrived and started lowering their boats down. I drug my boat to the water got in and started paddling again. I was exhausted. The Mexican was 75 yards downriver and a couple of the other plastic boats passed me right as I got back in my boat. I was a bit demoralized.
I resolved to try to catch them by paddling steady and keeping them in sight and then paddling my heart out over the last stretch in a sprint to catch them. The only problem was that I didn't know any landmarks that would tell me how far away the finish line was. I hoped that there was a long straight stretch of river before the finish line.
I paddled through another wide, slow and uneventful stretch of the river. I was tired, but the paddle stroke is a fairly natural fluid motion that is relatively easy to sustain. I pressed on and lost sight of the guys ahead of me because of all the bends in the river. At one point I saw them up ahead pulling off to the right at the last portage. I got there just ahead of two other paddlers in my class. Omar was manning the checkpoint and I called out my boat number to him as I drug my boat up on shore. It had been hard getting out of the boat because my legs were cramped and atrophied. There was a trail to the right of the dam and I began dragging my heavy boat down it. I was even with the two guys who came in behind me. They had to stop midway and I got a little way ahead of them. I reached the water first and stopped at one of the natural entry points. I was exhausted from paddling and dragging the boat for a hundred yards. My water bottle was empty so I had to switch them out. I unfastened my dry bag to get out two new bottles when the two guys behind me came up. The bitched about me stopping at the best reentry point. I felt like saying something to them, but they had a point. I felt like I was playing a little dirty by making it harder for them to get back in the river. But I was too tired to do anything else. I got the water bottles traded out and clumsily got back in my boat and started paddling again. The two guys were slightly ahead of me and I felt even more demoralized. The Mexican and the other paddlers were nowhere in sight.
Soon after the portage I came upon a low water bridge. There was a gap of about 2-1/2 feet between the water and the bottom of the bridge. There were a couple of people standing on the bridge. I couldn't tell if I had enough clearance to make it under and I hadn't seen any other boats go under it either. It was going to be close. I laid back on my boat and floated under. There was about three inches or less between my nose and the underside of the bridge. Much closer than I'd expected.
I paddled on. I passed a few guys fishing from kayaks and even a couple of flyfishing river guides with their parties. One had beached on a gravel bar and was preparing lunch for his party. I was envious of those guys. I was suffering. I paddled and paddled and paddled. Every time I stopped to take a drink from my water bottle I lost momentum. I kept looking over my shoulder to see if any other boats were coming up behind. An enormous green canoe passed me, then a solo in a plastic boat who was in my class passed me. There was no current and I felt like I was paddling a cinder block through the water. I came up to a sweeper that spanned the entire river and had to portage around it. I paddled and paddled and paddled. Finally, I came to an area where there were a few houses lining the bank. I came around a bend and saw a bridge with the finish line just beyond. This was it. The final 600 yards. I gave it everything I had. I wasn't going to pass anyone but I wanted to get the best time I could. I saw Kayak Raider standing on the bridge as I came up to it. A photographer snapped my picture. I went under the bridge and passed the finish line. Time: 3hrs. 6mins. 7secs. I was 7th in the men's solo unlimited category. Here's a list of the final results. As you can see, I was last in my class. I was disappointed in the results, but I probably shouldn't be. I hadn't trained a lot and I was in probably the slowest boat in the class. Plus, the boat leaked causing it to be heavier. I lost too much time at the portages and by not staying in the current. I lost time by having regular water bottles instead of hands-free tubes like most racers have. If I did the race again today I think I could easily shave off 5 or 6 minutes in the same boat. That would have put me 4th or 5th in my class, which I would have been happy with. In a faster boat there's no telling. Here's some pictures from the race. I think I'm in #9 and #33 in the second batch. That last picture is right before the finish. I was hurting.
There was a barbecue at the finish line and I was pleased to see not a few people drinking beers. I didn't, even thought I REALLY, REALLY wanted to, because I had to drive. I talked to a few of the other paddlers. We left, returned my boat and headed back to Houston.
Earlier this week I posted the highlights of my race on the paddlers' message board because some of the guys were interested in my experience. Everyone fixated on the part about me getting spun out by the aluminum boat and it turned into this huge deal. You can read it here.
Next race will probably be the Martindale Triathlon, which I'm doing with Allbilly. Until then, lots and lots of training. I've got a long way to go. If I was hurting that bad after 16.5 miles there is no way I'm going to last the 260 miles of the Safari.
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