On Saturday, April 10, I raced in and around Coldspring, TX in the 2010 version of Texas Quest which is a 12 hour adventure race produced by Texas Adventure Racing. I raced solo since the rest of our group all had conflicts that weekend. My one goal for this race was to cross the finish line without losing my passport along the way (I lost my passport near the end of my only previous solo race attempt). I convinced my dad to come on the trip and be my support crew.
We arrived at the boat drop just before 6am in order to stage my kayak, pfd, and paddle near Indian Creek. It was a little chillier (46 degrees) than expected so we moved quickly. We then drove about 15 minutes to Double Lakes Recreation Area in the Sam Houston National Forest where the main TA was located. Parking near the TA was extremely limited so we ended up parking farther away than expected, which meant multiple trips of hauling gear to/from the TA. Race check-in went smooth. Everything appeared to be very well organized (always a good sign). We claimed our spot in the TA and set up quite efficiently. The pre-race meeting started at 7:35am…no surprises at the meeting. It was pretty crowded since there were 85 teams between the 3 races (2-3 hour sprint, 6Hr, and 12Hr). The RD told us we (all 3 races) would be starting the race with a run on a marked course followed by a bike on a marked course. I immediately got a little frustrated by this because mixing the sprint racers with the long racers on marked courses probably meant that I would get stuck behind a pack during the marked bike course. Oh well. We were given maps and the first set of instructions. After some final preparations, everyone convened at the Start line. Ready. Set. Go.
where's Kirko?
As expected, the “sprinters” took off. My strategy was to maintain a comfortable jog and not get too aggressive on the opening run for 3 reasons: No. 1, we didn’t know how long the run was going to be; No. 2, I still had 12 hours of racing ahead of me; No. 3, I’m not a sprinter! About 10 minutes into the run, I eventually started passing all those people who predictably get too excited at the beginning of races and run way too fast, eventually causing them to have to walk…happens every time. The run ended up being about 2 miles. I checked in at the scorer’s table (we had to wear tyvek bracelets with bar codes on them that were scanned after every leg of the race…it was nice not having to remember a team number) and received instructions for the next leg.
We were to follow a flagged bike course and punch CP’s 8 & 9 along the way. I somewhat quickly transitioned to the bike (onlookers may dispute that claim) and headed to the trails. The biggest drawback of not sprinting during the first run was getting stuck in the pack during the singletrack biking. While I knew this would happen, I didn’t expect it to bother me quite as much as it did at the time. Fortunately and unfortunately, my attention quickly shifted away from the (what seemed like) sloth-like biking pace to the sudden extremely loud creaking/cracking sound coming from my crankset. It was unbelievable how loud it was. I pulled off the trail to check it out and noticed my crankset seemed a little loose. I got out the mandatory bike multi-tool and attempted to tighten it but it wasn’t budging. Nothing appeared to be in eminent danger of catastrophically breaking so I biked on. As I approached the back of bikers, I sincerely apologized for the terribly annoying and loud sound coming from my bike and convinced them that letting me pass them up would end their misery sooner (but not mine). Everyone I propositioned eventually gave in. I came across CP8 about 20 minutes into the bike (note: the CP numbering was random throughout the race).
Shortly after, there was a couple of large trees blocking the trail. I lifted my bike and climbed over the trees and while planting my right foot back on the ground, yep, you guessed it, I rolled the ankle (let’s face it, a Kirk Zeringue race report wouldn’t be complete without an ankle sprain). It hurt like hell and some expletives came spewing out! One of the coed teams witnessed the event and was very concerned. I convinced them that I would be OK and that it was a regular occurrence. As they rode away, the girl on the team, in a motherly lecturing tone said “you should really wear a brace when you race!” She’s right and so is my actual mother everytime she tells me that… and my wife… and my father… and my teammates. You would think I’d learn my lesson. Hmmmmm? Anyway, back on the bike. More single track. More loud cracking…with an occasional painful moan (from me, not the bike). More being stuck in the pack. More apologies. More propositions. Punched CP 9 and headed back to TA. Scanned in and got the next set of instructions.
Back at the TA, I expressed my displeasure to my dad about the creaking bike and the ankle (now throbbing). I popped a few Aleve and put my ankle brace on (I know I don’t always wear it, but I always have it with me, that counts for something, right?). I plotted the 2 checkpoints for this leg of the race and hobbled off. My planned route would be mostly along paved roads with occasional short jaunts offroad to find the CP's. The first 100 meters or so down the road was spent walking limping while studying the map.
I plotted the 5 CPs on this leg. I talked with my dad and a couple of his new friends he made at the race, inhaled an 8oz. Coca Cola, ate a fudge round, and then creaked/cracked away. It was about a 7.5 mile ride on paved roads to the paddle put-in. There was one CP we had to punch along the way located in a gully just off the road. There were enough features on the map to where it should be pretty easy to find the right gully. About a half mile before I expected to reach the correct gully, I came across about 8 bikes on the side of the road. They were being guarded by one of the female racers while the rest of the people searching in the woods. While I was pretty convinced this was the wrong place, I stopped to check the map to be sure…definitely the wrong place. I showed the girl where they were on my map and she immediately got very upset because apparently she told her teammates that they were in the wrong place from the beginning but they didn’t listen to her. She was pretty funny and decided rather than yell at them to come back out and show them the err of their ways, she would just let them search in that spot all day. As I rode away, she jokingly (I think) asked if I wanted a teammate. I rode ahead to the correct gully (obviously correct gully), ditched my bike in a tall patch of beautifully blooming bluebonnets (alliteration?), climbed down into the gully and followed it straight to the CP. Back on my bike, I screamed downhill on the road and down to Indian Creek. My dad was there waiting, I punched the CP, awkwardly got in my kayak and headed off towards the lake. It looked to be about a 9 mile paddle mostly in Lake Livingston. On the bike over, I couldn’t help but notice how windy it was so I knew that relatively calm conditions in the creek/cove would soon change for the worse once I reached the lake waters. Lake Livingston is a pretty large lake (about 6 miles wide and 20 miles long) and quite infamous for its windy conditions (see DBAR race report…oh wait, I haven’t posted that one yet :-). The serene creek quickly turned into a choppy cove and finally a violent lake. The first CP was shared by both the 6 hour racers and us 12 hour folks. It was the 6 hour racers only paddle CP. To give you an idea of how bad the conditions were, I saw several teams turn around a mere 200 meters from the CP (in sight). As I approached the first paddle CP, I heard some screaming behind me and spotted a flipped canoe. Luckily, they were pretty close to the shore and a small pier, which made getting back in their canoe much easier.
The first CP was along a steel bulkhead. I mention this because being pounded by waves against a steel wall while trying to punch a passport kind of hurts and is quite difficult. I vocally declared that a mystery event and then wondered (aloud) if I had been vocalizing all my thoughts during the race…remember I’m racing solo. This kept me occupied for a while as I rehashed the first 4 hours of the race until my focus was jarred back to the awful conditions with the help of what I’ll call a rogue wave. If you’ve ever seen the show called “the Deadliest Catch” about Alaskan crab fishermen, in terrible conditions they can have a “rogue wave” that is massive and comes from a random direction and completely engulfs the ship, often times sinking it. Well, imagine a kayaking version (instead of a 100 foot wall of water, think 3 foot wall of water). I have no idea how I stayed upright, but somehow did. Now drenched and sitting in a puddle of water, my thoughts shift to the idea of abandoning the remaining paddle CP’s. Since I was getting pretty close, I decide to at least get the next CP and then re-evalute. This CP was hidden off to the side of a sandy beach next to a boat launch. There was one team on foot, who had apparently passed it up and decided to trek back to get it, and another team tangled up in some fishing line. I quickly punched the CP and backtracked a tad to avoid the fishing line booby trap. I met up with previously tangled 2-person team and we both expressed our concern over the conditions. I was the first to confess my thoughts of abandoning the final paddle CP which was at least an additional hour of paddling to and from. They confessed to having the same thoughts. We agreed to press on and stay together in case one of us got into some trouble. While having another boat nearby to assist if needed was comforting, the best part about the deal was having someone to talk to (not that my conversations with myself weren’t riveting). 40 minutes later we approached the last CP and were attacked by bugs who seemed to like the taste/smell of me much better than the other team. They decided to stop and eat and looked pretty tired. I could tell they were having trouble keeping up with me so I started the paddle back (with their approval). It took about an hour and a half to get to this point so I was facing at least an hour paddle back to the put-in (wind aided). I know what you’re thinking; poor Kirk is now paddling alone again. Nope, I had a couple hundred fleas/nats/mosquitoes to keep me company for the next 45 minutes. The wind was definitely helping with my speed, but it certainly wasn’t any less treacherous with it at my back. I was sweating a lot more, which the fleas/nats/mosquitoes loved, so I decided to take a couple salt tablets. The lake water was pretty cold and refreshing so I scooped a couple of handfuls to rinse off my face and arms…felt wonderful, but apparently I was far less appetizing to the fleas/nats/mosquitoes after this. As I re-entered the cove and then the creek I came across some of the more, shall we say, inexperienced paddlers from the 6-hour race which provided some entertainment for those last 10 minutes of paddling. My trusty support crew (a.k.a. Dad) was at the put-in to greet me. I jumped back on my bike for the 7.5 mile return trip to the main TA. Back at the TA, I scanned in again and was given instructions for a mystery event.
The mystery event involved a slack line stretched between 2 trees that you had to walk across with one hand on a volunteers shoulder (earlier teams had another line overhead to hold onto but someone broke it). My ankle didn’t like this very much so it was pretty slow going for me, but eventually made it across. We then had to follow a rope (while attached via carabiner) that was wrapped and tangled around trees and other obstacles, which required me to contort my body in ways it hadn’t done in years. Upon completion, I scanned in and received my next set of UTMs.
The good thing about the slack line (while painful) was that it loosened up my ankle tremendously so I attempted a jog back to my tent…success (onlookers might dispute this one too)! I quickly (again, could be disputed) plotted the next set of UTMs, shoved some food and drink down my pie hole, shared some pleasantries with my dad, popped a couple more Aleve, and headed off on the trek.
We could get these CP’s in any order. My intial plan was to get them in the opposite order of what I thought most teams would get them for 2 reasons; I’d get to see more people that way (sometimes teams just offer up tips and info for no reason), and I might come across the lead team getting what would appear to be the hardest CP last (first for me). I trekked across the dam and followed the Lonestar Hiking Trail south looking for where it made an abrubt turn to the west. It never seemed to do that and just continued due south. There were small unmarked (not on the map) trails weaving in and out all over the place which was confusing. Knowing I had gone too far, I decided to learn a lesson from the last race (see 2010 Natchez Trace AR race report… oh wait, I haven’t posted that one yet either). I headed back to the start and changed my plan to doing the CPs in the other order.
That little hick-up cost me about 20 minutes. The first CP was the other direction along the Lonestar Trail and the clue was “fallen tree.” I reached the area of the CP and came across several disgruntled racers who had apparently been searching for awhile. The confusion stemmed from the fact that just about all the trees in the area had “fallen.” They pointed out all the places they looked, which confused me because there was only one “fallen tree” that crossed the trail and surely they check the base of the tree, right? Nope, they hadn’t. We followed the tree to the other side of it’s now exposed root system and their was the checkpoint. They emphatically thanked me. The next CP was further down the LS trail in a creek just off the trail. I gave running a try and it was tolerable discomfort so I managed to run the whole way and found the CP with no trouble. The next CP was about 700 meters of bushwacking away. I shot a bearing, pace counted and nailed the CP. That was fun. I punched out to nearest road, and followed a couple of dirt roads to the where I thought the next CP should be. It looked pretty easy on the map and the clue was “side of trail.” It was an old clearcut so it was pretty thick, but after some pretty thorough searching, I found nothing. 2 more teams joined the mix and they both agreed we were in the right place. We all had it plotted on the west side of this old road on the map. One member of the group wandered over to the other side of the road and saw a team come barreling through the brush. Further inspection revealed a narrow foot trail. We all converged and quickly spotted the CP. We were all a little confused and mad about the actual placement of the CP and how it relates to the map and how it put those of us without homefield advantage at a disadvantage. Anyway, after about 30 seconds of complaining, we all moved on. It took me about 40 minutes to get the first 4 CP’s (after the re-start) but had already heard rumblings of the difficulty of finding the final CP from others who had bailed on the search. A female soloist, myself, and another 2-person team agreed to team up for this last CP. The clue was “bushwack.” We decided to follow the trail (not on map) north until we hit a pipeline. After a couple hundred meters things started looking very familiar and I realized I was back on the trail that confused me at the start of this leg. We hit the pipeline and follow it for 250 meters to our attack point, shoot a bearing that I would follow while the other 3 fan out on either side of me at about a 20 meter spacing. According to the map the point should be no more than 75 meters from the pipeline. The only problem is that the visibility was only about 5 meters. Thick crap. There are teams everywhere and people screaming names. At one point, I counted at least 15 pairs of eyes in about a 100 square meter area. More searching. Nothing. I bust back out to the pipeline. A couple of teams are there voting whether to skip the CP. Both of them abandon the search. More teams arrive to join the search. Still no luck. A couple of people thought I was the CP because of my jersey. I assured them I wasn’t. After nearly an hour of searching, I bailed as well. My temporary teammates decided to stay out longer to search and I wished them luck and headed back to the TA.
Once back at the TA, I questioned the race officials on whether people were actually finding CP 10 and they said only a couple people found it…pure luck if you ask me! There was another mystery event waiting for me. I had to use a straw to transport a pile of smarties into a cup with my hands behind my back. That sucked (hee hee...get it?). Actually, it was easy. Now 15 jumping jacks. OK. As it turns out, the ankle doesn’t like jumping jacks very much either. Done. Now inflate this balloon. How much? As much as you want. Is that enough? Sure. Now carry it without grabbing it over there like this (resting on arm). Easy enough. I 
The next leg was a bike leg with 5 CPs. I had about 2.5 hours left before the race cut-off. Plotting the points revealed that I would be making a big loop around the west and south side of Double Lake. Chugged another Coke. Got some TA updates from my dad and headed off. My plan was to go clockwise to get the more strenuous trail and gravel road riding out of the way first in case I started cramping (which I’ve been known to do) later in the bike…I’d be on easier paved roads for the last third of the leg. I quickly had to abandon that plan because I couldn’t find (or so I thought…more later on this) the dirt road I needed according to the map. I followed a camp road that seemed correct, but it abruptly ended and became a winding single track trail. Rather than risk getting turned around in the maze, I just headed back and hit the paved road first instead. I followed a couple paved roads to the entrance of a forest road, punched CP??. More paved road to another gravel forest road. Droppped the bike. The clue was “thicket.” Found a small path into the thicket and punched CP??. Down another gravel road where a trail intersected. The clue was “follow fallen tree.” The point was plotted directly in between the gravel road and the trail. I guessed the fallen tree would be on the trail so I left my bike (no biking allowed on the Lone Star Hiking trail) and followed the trail but didn’t find a fallen tree. I ran (no witnesses to dispute it this time) back to my bike and rode down the road a little farther and spotted the tree. I shot a bearing in line with the orientation of the tree and followed it about 100 meters through nasty thorny crap straight to the CP. On the way back to the main road, one team stopped me to ask if my bike was OK. I had actually completely tuned out the awful noises it was making. I’m not sure why, but I told them to stay on the road and not take the trail…then got mad at myself for providing unsolicited help to competitors. After a short stint back on the paved road, I turned onto another gravel road. I crossed paths with the female soloist from earlier. They never found CP 10. I asked her if she had any trouble with CP 16 (assuming she had just punched it) and she said she was heading there now. I told her she had to have passed it up because I just turned off the paved road and I still have a ways to go before I get to the creek where the CP is. After some joint map inspection, she agreed and we continued toward CP 16 together. We came upon a team looking in a creek and assured her that wasn’t the right creek either so we just rode past them. That made the little light bulb in their heads go off. We finally reach our creek, follow it in about 100 meters punch the CP…she thanked me and we went our separate ways again. More gravel road riding followed by some old dirt road riding, followed by steep decent (on foot) down to a creek and a had punched the final bike CP. Now I’m hoping I can find the other end of the road that I couldn’t find at the beginning of the leg. There it is. It quickly became singletrack and everything looked very familiar. Crap! Had I only gone 50 meters more down this trail earlier, I would have run into the road. Oh well. I followed the trail back to the TA and scanned in to receive my final set of instructions.
premature ride across finish line
I had 32 minutes until the race cutoff at 8:01pm. There were 3 CPs but only one set of UTMs. The next set of UTMs would be located at the first CP. I plotted the CP and the clue was “love shack.” It looked like a little more than 1.5 miles roundtrip.
"Mr. Race Director, do I have enough time?"
"Uhhh, maybe...maybe not!"
"Hmmmm???"
Convinced I should be able to cover the distance and be back before the cutoff with a little cushion, I took off running. I was surprised by the ovation I received from the scorer’s table and volunteers when they saw me running (maybe an overstatement…it was more of a fast limp and hobble) off down the road. I’m not sure they were as convinced as I was, but the encouragement was nice. I followed the road, then trail, then road down to a creek where there was an old shack. Punched the CP. Checked the watch. I had twice as much time to get back as it took me to get there so I knew I’d be safe by at least 3 or 4 minutes…plenty of time! I crossed the finish line with about 6 minutes to spare. Handed in my passport. Yayyy! I didn’t lose it…mission accomplished. My dad was little nervous about me cutting it that close. He gave me a couple of post race hotdogs and I was thrilled to find out I finished 2nd in the solo division and 6th overall (out of 17 teams).
All in all, it was a great race, put on at a great venue, by a very well organized Race Director, with a phenominal support crew (huge thanks Dad!). I would definitely recommend this race to others in the future.
Team CACAR's first podium finish!
