2012 MR 340 Part Two: I'm Pretty Sure Everyone but Patrick Is Going To Die

Read part one here if you missed it.

It was 4:00 am when I gave up any attempt at sleep. The alarm would be going off in half an hour anyway and there was no reason to wake the rest of the house so I just shut it off and hit the shower. The night before the MR 340, even for ground crew, offers fitful sleep at best. Your mind races over a mental checklist and struggles to figure out what you're forgetting. Tent? Check. Water? Check. Ice? I'll get that on the way. Insect repellent, coolers, food, sun block, clothes, towels, toilet paper, flashlights, batteries, phone charger, hat and knife? Check. Drill, Skil saw, nail gun, Chainsaw, flare gun, body armor, twin Glocks, holsters, extra magazines, 12 guage, shells, land mines, a bandolier lined with Russian grenades and an EMP device? Pretty sure Jeff will have all that. By five I was at the Quik-Trip loading up on ice but I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I was forgetting something.

"Shit! Paddlers!"

Luckily I hadn't gone very far. It would have been a real pain to come back for them after the race started and I was halfway to Lexington. I stopped by Mike's house and tossed him in the back of the car with the rest of the gear, then Jeff's and we were off to Kaw Point.

Patrick, after a couple of weeks of uncertainty following the Freedom Race, had decided he was not up for the 340 and bowed out. Since there wasn't much of an opportunity to find a replacement, (any paddler capable of enduring the race was already signed up) Mike and Jeff had spent the last week re-rigging the 27 foot black behemoth as a tandem. They had already proven it could work, finishing the Freedom Race as a duo, and by removing the center seat and various other bits of dead weight it should run almost as fast as its three man configuration.

The night before, we left it at Kaw Point with at least 100 other boats before signing in and dutifully attending the mandatory safety meeting which was by far the best one yet. With a record number of entrants the room was more full than we had ever seen it and Scott did a fantastic job as always. I have always considered the safety meeting to be my favorite part of the MR 340 but I'm a big fan of air conditioning so take that however you like.

That morning, Kaw Point was a madhouse. Even with a ton of entrants pulling out there were roughly 300 boats and more than twice that many people covering every square inch of land near the ramp. Instead of the usual one news van there were three. It looked like the Missouri American Water MR 340 had hit the big time. The solos were crowding the ramp to put in for their early start and teams and tandems were getting set to go in as soon as the solos were off. The staggered start was necessary with so many boats and it made what could have been a real mess go very smoothly.


Get ready!


Set!


Go! 

Lexington: Oh good, it's hot again.

I always get to the first checkpoint too early. The first stretch of the race is one of the longest and the car is fully stocked so there is no point in stopping anywhere. Even if I dilly-dally I'm there an hour after the race starts and then it's 6 more hours of staring at the river before anything happens. It was boiling hot out by 10 am and there wasn't a shade tree for miles.

I did manage to use the time to figure out how to track the guys on my phone using their SmartTracker. I was able to see where they were, how fast they were going and their estimated arrival time at the next checkpoint as long as I had a cell signal. Boats finally started showing up just before 1:00 pm and more than a few would be leaving on the tops of cars. One paddler, and I still don't know who or why, left Lexington in an ambulance. The mood of the waiting ground crews deflated quickly after that and by the time The Paddlephiles pulled in at 3:30 the ramp was all business. They weren't making the best time, but they were in good shape despite the heat. They took on some water and shoved off for Waverly.

Yada yada yada, the boys make Waverly at 7:10 and take a longer break for some warm ramp-burgers in the shade. Now it was time to discuss a plan for the night. The next checkpoint is Miami. With the sun setting and things cooling down we decided to skip stopping there and go straight for Glasgow. This would allow the guys to bank some time against the checkpoint cut-off times, plus it's a much better place to camp than Miami facilities-wise. Frankly, we've always considered stopping for the night in Miami to be a mistake. Getting as far as you can possibly get on the first day is crucial. It's the only day you'll be fresh and ready to paddle. So it was settled, they would check themselves through Miami so I could head straight for Glasgow and make camp. Worst case scenario they would have to stop and sleep on a sand bar which, thanks to the drought, there were plenty of. I didn't expect them to make it until 6 am and not having slept much the night before I was in the tent and asleep by 10.


Mmmm... ramp burgers.

At 5:00 I was up and off to Casey's General Store in Glasgow, the center of their universe as far as I can tell, and grabbed some coffee and ice. The boy scouts were selling hot breakfasts at the ramp so I figured I'd get the guys to eat and then get some rack time. I tried to check the SpotTracker and see when they would be getting in, but Glasgow has always been the absolute worst stop on the race when it comes to cell signals. Not only could I not find them on SpotTracker, I couldn't report back to Julie who was keeping the rest of the Paddlesphere updated via Facebook. I couldn't even call 911 if I had to. All I could do was sit at the ramp and wait. And wait...

By 8:00 it was pretty clear they had stopped to get some sleep along the way. I had no way of knowing how long they stopped or where they were so I had no idea how long I would be waiting. If I wanted to get a cell signal to track them I'd have to drive to Booneville and I couldn't leave for that long since they could be showing up any minute. As the morning wore on, I did drive around Glasgow a bit hoping to find some kind of signal. I managed to get maybe half a bar, which was enough to receive a text from Julie who had been following the SpotTracker. She said it looked like only one of them was paddling. So now I knew they were moving slow. The signal was gone before I could reply though so I still had no idea how far away they were or when they might arrive. More waiting.

They finally coasted in about noon and we pulled the boat out of the way and got them off the water for a while. The extra 6 hours out there without meeting up had run them out of everything. Maybe stopping in Miami wouldn't have been such a bad idea after all. Jeff was restocking the boat when Mike came up the ramp looking for food. The hot breakfast burritos had been replaced by hot pulled pork sandwiches which, good as they were, are not ideal meals for endurance paddling. Mike was eating one anyway when he dropped the bomb on me.

"I'm done..."

Read the thrilling conclusion!

2012 MR 340 Part One: I'm Pretty Sure We're All Going to Die

Every great story, and I guess every terrible story too, has a beginning. This one is no different. Except that it probably is neither great nor terrible but that's not really the point here.

 The Freedom Race

The story of the Paddlephiles 2012 MR 340 begins 24 days earlier, at an unofficial preliminary event called the Freedom Race. At only 63 miles, this race should have been child's play for an experienced crew like The Paddlephiles, accustomed to 100+ mile days. Looking back at it now, I think that attitude is probably what made it such a troublesome day. If we had been gearing up to go 340 miles, I'm sure the guys would have taken more care, been more certain they had everything they needed to keep their bodies going in the extreme conditions.

The race began in Lamine, MO. It got off to a great start at 8:00 am and began with a 4 mile sprint down the Lamine River before slipping into the Missouri. The Lamine, being small, shallow and slow, made that quite a workout and by the time any of the 70 boats made it to the Muddy Mo the heat was getting oppressive.


Freedom Race 2012 preparations are underway. (Click for large image.)

When I got to Katfish Katy's, the race's only checkpoint, it was 100 degrees and climbing and still well before noon. We knew it was going to be hot. Missouri in July is always hot. We didn't know it was going to be the single hottest day of the year. The high in Columbia, MO that day was 110. This stop was only 28 miles from the start and when boats started coming in around 11:00 many paddlers were already looking battered, beaten and demoralized and more than a few were calling it quits. I was sure many of them were signed up for their first MR 340 just 3 weeks later and I doubted I would see any of them there. They hadn't yet made it a 10th of that distance. This river can teach you some very harsh lessons when it has a mind to.

The Paddlephiles hit the ramp at 11:28 and ,by comparison, looked to be doing pretty well. They were sweating a lot so I was pretty confident in their hydration regimen and after taking on some more fluids and choking down a quick lunch they were off. As I looked back at the long steep ramp I had to carry the water cooler up I couldn't help thinking they were taking the heat better than I was. I would rather have been looking up the north face of Mt. Everest. At least I'd be nice and cool.

We had originally planned for that to be the only stop on this short run, but with the extreme heat we decided it would be best to meet up at Cooper's Landing to make sure everyone was doing ok before pushing on to the finish. This change of plans cramped my schedule a little more than I realized and after stopping in Columbia to restock the water cooler and gawking at the map for half an hour trying to figure out how to get to Cooper's, I arrived just in time to see them paddling up to the ramp. Since I was caught unprepared they parked the boat and came up the ramp to rest a bit. That's when Patrick dropped a bomb on us.

"I'm done."

"What?"

"I'm done. I'm sick, I can't go any more."

Mike and Jeff were as surprised as I was. I guess he hadn't brought it up on the boat. This of course prompted much debate. There wasn't much further to go and Mike and Jeff put no small effort into coercing him to march on but to no avail. Mike and Jeff got back in the boat and Patrick hopped in the car with me. We decided to meet once more in Hartsburg to be sure the two paddlers were successfully managing the unweildy 27 foot boat built for 3. Patrick and I were able to get there from Cooper's entirely by gravel roads and we sat at yet another boat ramp to stare at the river and wait.

"So this is ground crew, huh?"

"Yep." It wouldn't be the last time I have that exact conversation before the end of this story.

While we were waiting in Hartsburg, something miraculous happened. The sky clouded up and dropped literally tens of tiny specks of water on us. It sprinkled for almost an entire minute. What was great about it though was that the temperature dropped what felt like 20 degrees. By the time Mike and Jeff came through it was downright tolerable. We shoved them back off and headed for the finish line in Jefferson City.

Along the way Patrick and I stopped in some God-forsaken podunk town, Bumblehump MO or something I don't know, and gassed up. Gatorade was on sale so we grabbed like half a dozen. Luckily Bumblehump had something the surrounding wilderness did not, a cell tower, and Patrick was able to call his wife Shari for some much needed medical advice. "Eat something salty." she told him.

When it's 110 degrees out, you sweat. When you sweat you lose water and salt. When you only drink water and your body has no salt, it can't retain the water and you dehydrate anyway. I read this on the internet just now so I can only assume it's accurate. Anyway, Patrick ate some salty chips and drank a Gatorade and while he wasn't exactly back in paddling form he was at least feeling better. Shari hopped in the car to come and get him in Jefferson City. Since there was going to be free beer there, the rest of us would be in no hurry to get him home and since he was in no condition to drink beer he didn't argue.

By the time we were nearing Jeff city the sprinkle had become a downpour, complete with lightning and severe wind gusts. While we were trying not to get blown off the highway things on the river were getting very hairy indeed. The strong winds were blowing up waves nearing 3 feet. Mike and Jeff were in a boat that, even without the weight of a third paddler, only clears the surface of the water by about 6 inches. They fought hard against the typhoon-like conditions and managed to keep the boat afloat and upright until things eased up. Not everyone was as successful and they stopped to help some capsized paddlers before pushing on to the finish.

I saw Patrick and Shari off and started looking around for the free beer. Mike and Jeff finished, 31st overall, at 5:28 pm. While we waited for the awards ceremony we sat down and over the course of a few beers came to realize that the Freedom Race left us with a lot more questions than answers about the Paddlephiles fate in the upcoming MR 340. Would Patrick be starting? If he started, would he finish? If he didn't, could we find someone else on such short notice? If we did, would they finish? If we couldn't, could Mike and Jeff take that boat 340 miles? Could they find a tandem boat in time? If the conditions are going to be like this do we want to tackle the 340 at all? What is that smell?


The smell was these guys. The remaining questions were left unanswered, and time was running out...

2012 MR 340 Part Two

Paddlephiles Q&A

So is this still a thing or what?
YES! I know you're all hungry and not getting enough bloggage in your diets. Fear not! The Paddlephiles ARE still a thing and peak Paddlephile season is nigh upon us.

Why doesn't anything get posted on this blog ever?
Well you see I'm a busy man and paddling is somewhat seasonal. Generally this blog is reserved for major stories or developments. However, we do post shorter updates a lot more frequently on our facebook page, which you should 'like' if you want more up to the minute Paddlephile news.

Are The Paddlephiles going to be in the 340 this year?
Does a wild bear steal pic-a-nic baskets and maul campers in the woods? Of course! The seventh annual Missouri American Water MR 340 will be held July 31 - August 3rd, 2012.

What is this peculiar growth on the back of my neck?
We'll have to biopsy that to be certain but from the look of it I'd say some sort of interface for an alien probe. Are you prone to blackouts or memory gaps? Or it could just be a mole or something. I don't know I'm not a doctor or scientist or anything.

Umm.... ok. Is there anything else I should know?
Lots! We got a new boat that I'll be telling you about soon. Tomorrow we'll be in the 62 mile Freedom Race  to help us gear up for the 340. I'll be reporting on that soon as well.

That's all for now. Get on that facebooky thing and stay tuned here for more.

Paddle on!

The Montage

Every adventure story needs a sports training montage. If it's good enough for Rocky Balboa it's good enough for the Paddlephiles.

It should be noted that Patrick, like all budding directors, had his vision hacked to bits by the studio. Blame the internet legal department. We'll be sure to include the deleted scenes in the DVD release.