Ireland is well known for many things, with Guinness
probably being pretty high up if not on the top of the list. But as this was
not the sole reason for our journey over to the Emerald Isle, proper
exploration of this fabulous beverage would have to wait till after our race.
Getting all four team members, our bikes and other gear
to Ireland at the same time and in one piece, was a challenge. After a few
curved balls in which my negotiation skills were seriously tested regarding our
bicycles, and the realization that Jess's paddle wasn't going to make it on the
flight unless we paid exorbitant money, we finally boarded the plane.
We peered out through the plane windows upon landing to a
grey, wet and cold Dublin. After two
days sightseeing and pre-race prep of buying food, we headed back to the airport for our race shuttle to Limerick
University. Suddenly the race became very real. The car park was strewn with
bicycle boxes, gear bags and racers from all around the globe.
Once at the University it was game on. We essentially had
a day to get ourselves sorted. Competency tests done, bike boxes packed, final
food shopping done, gear bags packed, race briefing, map marking and route
planning.....we eventually fell into bed around midnight. Not ideal when embarking
on a 72hr nonstop race where sleep was going to be extremely limited and the
gravitational pull on the eyelids tested to the max.
A 2.5hr bus trip took us to our start at Curraghmore
House. A spectacular manor house which had us all gaping in awe. The gun went
and it was game on. I was very apprehensive about this first leg. The 20km
marked trail run was going to hurt. With no navigation to slow the pace....it
was going to be a sprint to the river. Not our strong point. But it was only
leg one of many.
Arriving at Mount Congreve on the banks of the Suir
River, we were greeted by the rather comical sight of what resembled a mud
wrestling tournament where boats were compulsory. After sliding down the nettle
infested bank, we were treated to a first hand account of the mud wrestling. My
happiness to be in the boat rapidly disappeared as we realized the outgoing
tide, was turning. It was to be full moon that night, a blue moon at that,
which meant a tide at its strongest and with a 6m tidal difference, our fast
descent of the Suir River turned into a hard slog. A quick and thoroughly
enjoyable orienteering leg around Ireland's oldest city Waterford, saw us climb
back into our boats and once again battle the currents of the Suir. Our forward
progress was now even further hampered by the a head wind. After a frustrating
and time wasting double crossing of the Waterford Harbour whilst dodging
massive Container ships we eventually made our way to bad weather takeout B at
Dromina Strand. I must just add that our little pocket rocket Jess had an even
harder time than the rest of us, battling it out with a heavy flat bladed
paddle and a cracked rib.
Warmed up and with tummies full of tea and chicken
sandwiches from a local bar, we headed off on the 5km trot to the original
kayak take out and first coasteering section at Dunmore East.
With a rogain style race comes many different route
options and choices unlike a regular adventure race where you simply travel
along t entire course collecting all the checkpoints. In a rogain, you are
given a time limit and based on ones speed over the various legs, you either
collect or skip checkpoints. Ultimately the team who collects the highest
number of points in the time allowed wins.For this reason and also the fact that the second
coasteering leg was only a short bike trip after the first, we opted out of the
first coasteering so as to make the 2nd before it got too cold and also so as
not to have to cycle and then put on wet cold wetsuits. But as with most
things, even the best thought plans don't work out. We were told after checking
out of the 3rd transition point that the coasteering had been cancelled due to
all the teams hitting it in the dark. It was now around 9:30pm and the sun
would be dipping over the horizon in about an hour.
Heading out on the bikes, we discovered a few 'travel
related issues' had inflicted our bikes. (Bikes are packed and transported in
special boxes during the race). Kim's derrailleur was slightly bent and looking
dodgey at best and Jess's seat post didn't want to go all the way down. Try as
we might, begging, hitting, wriggling, it simply would not drop the last 2cm.
It was going to be very uncomfortable ride.
Sometime around 2am the nods started to kick. That
feeling of seeing two maps instead of one can be rather disturbing. As
navigator I had to concentrate really hard on concentrating. We were joined by
an Irish team who had somehow lost their map, andasked if they could ride with
us to the next TA, where they would get the next set of maps.We arrived at the Abseil in Kilmacthomas just as the sun
was peaking its head out over the horizon. Our descent was to be off an old
viaduct, which sadly we never really got to see properly due to lack of light.
It did however supply a good laugh. Jess having abseiled from a very young age,
didn't waste time in reaching the ground. The young military man in charge of
our rope stared in slightly disconcerted awe at the speed with which she
descended...asking me in a rather fearful voice....did I actually attach her to
the rope?
Around mid morning we got to the start of the first hike
a bike section over the 'gap', a saddle which we would traverse between the
Comeragh and Monavullagh Mountains was relatively easy to find and the actual
trail over the top although steep, was relatively easy going....although some
teams took a rather more 'scenic' route (this might be a good time to add that
'shortcuts' through Irish bog are not really something one wants to
do....willingly). At one point Kim disappeared up to her armpits in Bog with
just her head, arms and bicycle marking her location. The ride down into the Nier River valley on
the other side was both exhilarating and beautiful.
The bad weather had now set in properly. It was hard to
leave the warmth of the transition at Ballymacarby and head out into the cold
wind and rain and the Monavullagh Mountains. After looking at the map, we
decided to collect the first checkpoint up on Knockavannia mountain, and then
make a decision from there, as the next few would would not just be a walk
around the hills. It was a little frustrating having to cut out the sections
that would really challenge us due to the ever looming race cutoff. If we were
late, we'd have hard earned points deducted. Not something we wanted to have
happen. Once at the top, we decided to head back and try get some now well
earned sleep. We had been going in excess of 30hrs without any sleep.
I don't remember much of the hike down.....as most of it
was done in a semi comatose state. I was told by fellow team mate Janine I was
'bug-eyed'. Once in my sleeping bag, I couldn't sleep. The next leg and
decisions played on my mind.... It was big bike leg, with another hike a bike
and many options.
Bike admin had taken its toll on us so we headed off for
the lesser of the evils on the bike and after a lung popping climb up to the
lower peaks of the Knockmealdown Mountains, trekked and rode along the East
Munster trail to a memorial site below Crohan West peak. We descended in the
last of the daylight and hit the myriad of forest roads at the bottom in the
dark. After a slight detour, we were back on the road in the quaint hamlet of
Goats Bridge. We arrived in Kilbeheny with eyes propped open with imaginary
matchsticks. This time, with now nearly 40hrs of no sleep, I had no problem
falling asleep. The wake up alarm after 2hrs came way too soon. A feed and a
study of the map saw us heading off with renewed energy. A short bike ride took
us to the base of the Galtymore Mountains. It was a beautiful day and our
spirits were high. They weren't even dampened by our interesting route though
thick spruce plantations (think spikey hakea on steroids) culminating with a
clamber over a bramble stinging nettle covered wall. From Knockaterriff we
headed to Knockeenatoung and finally back to Kilbeheny Village.
Our last bike leg took us through the beautiful valleys
between the Galtymore and Ballyhoura Mountains and even though it had once
again started to rain, nothing could dampen our excitement at heading out on
the famous Ballyhoura MTB trails. We wasted no time in getting out on the
trails. The beautiful winding paths took us through mystical hobbit like
forests interspersed with spectacular views of the valley and surrounds. With
sunset came new challenges. Suddenly the paced slowed. Riding technical single
track with the added challenge of shifting shadows took its toll on our super
tired brains, add to that the cold and now heavier rain... We arrived drained
at the end. The need to recharge and warm up saw us taking a 30min power nap
before heading out on our last leg, a 12km marked trail run to the finish.
I'm not sure if the fact that the last 12km did not require
any mental effort in the form of navigation was a good thing, especially for
me, as navigator. My brain had decided it's work was over and therefore had no
need to stay awake any longer. The fact that I actually needed it to place one
foot in front of another seemed of little concern and so it was a rather
erratic path I took to the finish with a couple of unplanned visits into the
brambles on the verge.
Our arrival at the finish in Kilfinanne around 3am was
greeted by a box of cold beers. Thirst overcame sense and after 2 sips we all
felt as if we'd had the wonderful Irish brew injected into our brains!
It was a superb race, we laughed for the majority of the
race. It was a journey which will not easily be forgotten and I feel privileged
to have to been able to share it with my fabulous team mates!
A massive thank you to our various sponsors:
Adventure Inc for our Ice-breaker thermals, buff headgear
and Bridgedale socks; and to Squirt for our cycling kit, bike lube, bum lube
and bike wash. We could not have done without it!
