Team LJP-J+C is made up of Chris Whitburn, Leigh McPhan and Phil Walker
After racing in the AROC adventure racing sprint series for two years, it
was inevitable that Team LJP would go in search of a new challenge with even
greater demands and rewards. So it was that we took up the challenge of competing
in the AROC 24 hour adventure race conducted in Canberra on 5-6 March 2005.
The membership of our team had changed somewhat through the summer as our
fitness levels improved and we sought a third team-mate who would be compatible
with Leigh and I. Our regular team mate Jason stood down after the sprint
series and we were lucky enough to be pointed towards Chris Whitburn, a local
mtb’er who had taken up adventure racing over the past year. A planning
meeting with Chris earlier in the race week confirmed that he was going to
be a good partner in crime!
Tom and Alina as usual had done a ton of preparation for the race. The AROC
website was being updated regularly with general information, equipment lists,
registration and support details, hints, bike drop off details, schedules
and other useful bits of information. The website would even show live results
as the race unfolded. The race weekend approached quickly but with all the
information and preparation that had taken place, we felt that we were ready
for the challenge.
I must confess to harboring some doubts over the last few days before the
race started. At nearly 47 years of age, I wondered how my body would react
to operating at high heart rates for 24 hours and how my notoriously fickle
metabolism would cope with the effort. While I had run marathons and ridden
in endurance length bike rides, this kind of event was still new to me. Would
I fall in a heap after 6 hours and leave my team mates stranded? A few sleepless
nights didn’t deliver the answers that I sought. Only time would tell…
Race day dawned cool and windy after a week of hot, clear days. The forecast
was for a “vigorous cold front” to move in through the day, bringing
rain and strong winds. Standing by the side of the lake a few hours before
the start, it certainly looked as if the met guys got it right this time.
Registration and preparation took place in the magnificent entry of the National
Museum of Australia. This was a master stoke of organisation as it allowed
the competitors ample space to prepare maps and gear, and to use decent facilities
for the last time in 24 hours! Seven maps and lots of instructions were absorbed,
marked and laminated to keep them dry.
After a short, precise brief by Tom, 47 teams launched their 3 person kayaks
from the shores of Acton Peninsula at a little after 9:00am Saturday morning.
With the wind at our backs, the run down the lake to the Carillon was fun
and busy, dodging kayaks as we all sought to get into a steady rhythm. Coming
back into the wind was more challenging as we pulled into shore, running to
a location to pick up our first check point card. Paddling across to Weston
Park to finish a 7.5km paddle, it looked like we were well to the rear of
the field, with only a few teams behind us.
The next leg was a combination run and swim. We ran to the maze in Weston
Park and negotiated it without too much drama. A short run to the end of the
park brought us to the lake and a 200 metre swim. The PFDs kept us well afloat
and it was basically a matter of moving arms and legs for five minutes to
get us to the other side where we started running again, this time ominously
towards the foot of Black Mountain. After dumping our PFDs at checkpoint “X”
and picking up an orienteering map from a friendly volunteer, we headed up
the side of the mountain, locating a CP in a deep watercourse and then punching
the card at the top of Telstra Tower, much to the amusement of tourists.
Back at the foot of the tower, we agreed to a course through 9 CPs on the
northern side of the mountain, leading us down to Aranda and Belconnen. By
this time, rain was falling and the mountain gradually being surrounded by
low cloud and mist, whipped by the driving winds. The longer format of the
24 hour race means that we can set a good pace between CPs, and we find ourselves
running on flats and downhills, and walking the steep climbs. We see a few
other teams, and find ourselves consistently keeping pace with Team Pink Bits,
a mixed team who wear outrageous pink wings and other matching accessories.
Into Aranda and down to Big Splash, we find that the novelty park has been
closed due to the foul weather but, on the upside, we receive an envelope
with instructions to proceed to the Belconnen Interchange and catch a bus
back to the City. We had been concerned that there was a 10km gap between
CPs 7 and 8, so the bus would be a Godsend. We get to the bus stop to find
no bus but several other teams ahead of us. In the ten minute wait for the
bus, a lot of other teams arrive and we swap stories while we wait. Any advantage
we may have had here is lost but the experience is fun and we all have a laugh.
Back at the city, we pile out of the bus and set out on foot for the Museum
again. My legs are getting sore and stiff after the last 15kms on foot, so
fast walking seems to be the best solution. We arrive not long after those
teams that ran or shuffled back, around 2:30pm, five and a half hours after
starting.
The weather has worsened, if that is possible. The wind has whipped up waves
on the lake and we see, far into the white waves, teams on inflated inner
tubes being swept along by the squalls blowing over the water. Offloading
our shoes, we run with our tubes as far up wind along the shore as we can
before launching into the lake and setting out for the first of two CPs on
islands. My team mates make good progress but I find that I can’t propel
myself very well while lying on the tube. Crossing to the first island takes
12 minutes and it’s hard not to get blown off course and miss the island
all together. The CP is punched and we launch to the second island, about
700 metres away. Again, I suffer and start drifting down wind. The Pink team
to my left are flailing arms and pink wings in the air and doing no better
than me. Several hundred metres from the island my legs start to cramp. I
wave frantically at the support kayak and they cruise by to check on me. I
decide to push on in the lake seething in heavy rain and after 25 minutes
meet up with the rest of my team to get the next CP and head out. Because
the wind and waves are so strong, all teams are making for the nearest shore
line and running to the next transition zone. This is our strategy too but
this now entails a 3 km walk/jog carrying large inner tubes in bare feet.
We make the transition area and count 18 kayaks still stacked up. That means
there are 17 teams behind us, and about 30 in front.
The next kayak is a 8 km leg with one CP, about 40 minutes of which is a
paddle into the teeth of the storm. We plot a course that keeps us in the
shelter of the lake shore as much as possible, criss-crossing through the
waves only when we have to. We lose a position or two in the paddle and come
back to the Museum riding breaking waves like we are at the beach. It’s
only when we step out after 75 minutes of paddling that we realize how cold
we are. It was like we went immediately hypothermic, shuddering violently
in soaking wet clothes in a cold gale-force wind. We get changed into dry
clothes quickly and opt for a few more layers than we might have planned,
eat and drink as much as we can and head on foot for the City to punch a card
at a Sushi bar and catch another bus. Walking fast, we keep up and even go
past a few teams who run but miss a few turns along the way. Feeling starts
coming back into my fingers as we bus with a few other teams to Woden. We
consume Power Bars and gel as quickly as we can get them down and laugh at
each other’s bedraggled appearance.
Off the bus at Woden, we detour to the coffee shops and buy large coffees
to go. It’s now close to 5:30pm and getting darker and cooler, or is
that colder? We walk quickly and drink, arriving at the next transition area
as those who caught the bus with us leave on their bikes. Did I see some pink
wings again? Ten minutes of preparation and we cycle away. We feel positive
as we enjoy the mtb sections and are in familiar territory. As night falls,
the lights come on. Night mtb is new for Leigh and I, but Chris has lots of
experience here and has the lighting system to die for! CPs in Red Hill, Garran,
O’Malley and Isaacs come quickly and without incident. Team Pink Bits
is sighted occasionally going past us or fading back as we move past them.
How will I tell my wife that I spent the night with them? Finally, some steady
climbing and nav through Isaacs leaves them well behind us, and we plunge
into Farrer.
Night nav in the bush is hard as many natural and man-made features are difficult
to identify. A CP located near the bend in a line of power poles stops us
in our tracks for 30 minutes. We finally confirm our position and locate the
CP, racing downhill to then cross under Yamba Drive and climb into Fadden
Hills. The high ridge to our left is lit up with lights from a number of teams
but the more obvious course, at least to us, lies straight over the ridge
and into Fadden. We join at the rear of the suburb and race along the fire
trail there, emerging at the next CP well in front of teams who are still
on the ridge behind us. Several more CPs and an unplanned bush bash deliver
us to Macarthur, where we scramble and locate a CP on a ridge to the left
of the track. We persist with the fire trail behind the houses, rather than
going onto the single track higher up on the slopes, and this seems to work.
We pass teams coming back in our direction who have obviously overshot the
previous CP. We are blinded by their lights but happy that we are making good
progress up the field. After one last CP in Macarthur, we drop into the urban
areas and climb out through Chisholm to the Monaro Highway and the old Cooma
railway line. Chris rides here occasionally and sets a good pace as we then
head south along rolling tracks. It is here that I start walking the bike
up the hills, not a good sign.
Another CP, and then we plunge into the Tuggeranong Forest single track system,
obviously a popular area with downhillers. Leigh has a half crash and I coast
down steadily at the back, while Chris turns the night into day and flies
down fast. We emerge and race down the highway along the only section that
isn’t out of bounds. Under the highway we clip another CP and for the
first time, I feel totally spent. It is about 10:30pm, more than half way
through the race and I must stop and eat. I eat all the muesli and chocolate
bars I have and drink the rest of my Gatorade. The sound of an approaching
team makes us rise and continue quickly.
We are now on my regular mtb loop so I know what lies ahead and how long
until we next stop. Climbing around the back of Theodore, we clip a CP and
note that the team just ahead of us has peeled off the fire trail and headed
into the suburb. I know where the next CP is and they are definitely heading
well off track. I learn later that they headed to Calwell shops for some fried
rice before the restaurant closed. We crest the Theodore Hill trails and drop
into Condor with Tuggeranong hill to our right. At this point, I notice that
the stars are out and that the wind has died down to a light breeze. It is
still very cold, around 5 degrees, but our exercise keeps us warm. Two teams
come from the other direction, again another overshoot of a CP that we had
just punched. We race down into Gordon and cut across the back of Bonython,
still on my training loop. CPs are punched quickly and we find ourselves at
Tuggeranong Town Centre at around 12:45 am.
We are greeted by friendly volunteers and the dreaded inflatable kayaks.
My euphoria turns to horror at the thought of paddling the yellow submarine
on the lake at night. Luckily, the instructions say that only two need paddle
while the 3rd team member stays on shore. Chris and Leigh put me out of my
misery by kindly volunteering to do the paddle (thanks guys), so I run/shuffle
to an all-night petrol station and stock up on coffee and hot pies for their
return. Leigh and Chris were still a while away so I was able to curl up in
one of the kayaks under a blanket and keep warm. I really wanted to sleep
and, while the mind was willing, my body was pumping hard so I just relaxed
for a few minutes until they got back. Hot coffee and pies were consumed,
although I was starting to find that my ability to digest food was reducing
rapidly.
Once back on land, our team geared up for an 8km orienteering leg. Ominously,
a team just back told us it took them two hours to do 8 kms. I privately thought
we could do it in 90 minutes. With helmet lights ablaze, we trekked from the
lake to the Murrumbidgee river, joining a track leading north along the river
and to the first CP. We soon picked up the watercourses that lay across the
track on the map so we knew roughly where we were on the path. In the best
bit of nav I have seen, Chris stopped and went through the bush in pitch dark
straight to the CP. At 3:00am, I honestly don’t know how he did it!
The next CP was probably the hardest one of the night. A straight compass
bearing for approximately 2 km through the bush at night. We kept a good course
but failed to get the CP on a first attempt. Chris and Leigh finally identified
a road on the map and were able to place us on that road. From there, we took
a bearing to the CP, on a spur, and found it quite quickly. The last CP was
easy to find, as it lay near the summit of Urambi Hill, the scene of a previous
adventure race with AROC. With the half moon now up, the silhouette of the
hill was very clear and we made a direct track for it. By this time, I was
fading badly. Chris and Leigh powered up the hill and I dragged up to the
trig several minutes later. The CP lay to the south of the trig point, on
a direct track back to the transition area. On starting to descend, I found
that my knees had stiffened up completely and that every step down over the
rocks was excruciating. Three teams pounded past me as I made painfully slow
progress down the hill. It took me 25 minutes to descend, Chris and Leigh
looked pretty bored by the time I got down!
Back to the lake and we were soon on our bikes. We spot our pink friends
coming in as we are heading out. They must be three hours behind us now but
still in great spirits. I am in a blur at this point, around 5:00am, after
taking three hours to do the last 8 kms on foot. On the bike and ready, I
see the bike tail lights heading off into the distance along the bike track
and realize that Chris and Leigh have left without me. I chase hard for a
few kms and get close enough to realize that these lights are different to
those I have been following for the past 12 hours. I pull up confused. It’s
cold and still, so I wait, thinking about sleep. Soon, familiar voices and
laughing behind me indicates that all’s well. We hook up and head north
finally, following a track between CPs that takes us through Kambah, to the
west of Gleneagles, and then through horse paddocks into some areas behind
Chapman along the Cooleman Ridge. We stop and talk to another team, take some
photos for them, have a laugh and continue. The sky is now bright enough that
I don’t need the lights to read the map and, as we crest Cooleman Ridge,
we bathe in the sun’s warm rays for the first time since the race started.
We are back on tarmac, moving as quickly as we can for Duffy and Narrabundah
Hill. We are counting down the hours to the 24 hour cut off when penalties
start, and from the hill, can see the finish line on the horizon. With two
hours left we opt to go to Stromlo and get as many more CPs as we can. It
is tempting to head for home but we decide to race for 24 hours, not 23.
Out of Stromlo and into Deek’s Drive area, we have to cross the Molonglo
River to hit the CP at the aptly named Misery Hill. There are two river crossings
marked on the map, a small one about 1 km away and a larger one that we know,
2 km away. We opt for the closer crossing but find ourselves in a bank of
blackberries after we cross. We struggle for ten minutes to get through, catching,
scratching and tearing us as we move. We emerge on the road, but I am exhausted
from the effort. On the climb up to the CP, even Chris walks his bike –
now I’ve seen everything! We meet up at the CP with the same team as
at Cooleman Ridge, chat and then decide to head for the finish as we have
only 40 minutes to go. We are on open fire trails, walking up steep climbs
and racing down when we can. We chase the other team and close on them, but
they continue straight on when we turn to go under the Parkway at the zoo.
(They ultimately finish about three minutes behind us). Soon we are on the
bike track and, racing line astern as if we were in the Tour de France, heading
for the finish line. I feel we are going pretty fast but we get passed by
a puzzled middle aged man with a girl on a baby seat. I am too tired to make
comment but it does seem funny deep inside me somewhere!
The finish line finally looms and we line up side by side to complete the
race. We arrive with 12 minutes to spare. I am immediately pleasantly assaulted
by the smell of bacon and eggs. We dump our bikes where we stop and head straight
for the BBQ. Bags and helmets stay in place as we make a first pass over the
food. Fresh orange juice and fruit complement the hot food. After ten minutes
of gorging, we sit down and drop some of our gear off our backs. Well into
our second (or was it the third) serving, I notice a car leaving with mtbs
on the roof sporting pink streamers and wings. They did well!
The fantastic AROC live results web page shows us as finishing 15th overall
out of 47 and eighth in class. We are thrilled with this result but now know
we could have ended up in the top ten if we had made three more CPs on the
mtb. The results showed that we pulled ourselves up from about 35th to 15th
in the first mtb leg, losing a few places in the orienteering section in the
early morning.
On the Monday, Leigh and I share some stories by phone and start to plan
how we can do better next time. Chris’ email is equally positive. I
surmise that we had a great time and learnt some more about ourselves, and
what our true limits really are.
Tom and Alina again worked tirelessly for this race and deserve all the accolades
that they receive, plus more. I have an endless admiration for their abilities,
their style and friendly positive attitude. By comparison, we are weekend
warriors who occasionally gain a faint understanding of what they must face
in their five day elite races. See you next year guys, and thanks for a very
full and satisfying 24 hours.
