Expedition Racing For Dummies
As the Eco-Challenge Sabah 2000 moves into its second week, five four-person teams (of the original 76) have made their way through 300 miles of hell. You're probably wondering by now how you can get in on the fun.
Expedition Racing
For Dummies
Adventure Journal by Sarah Rose
Previously in Adventure Journal:
The Guiding Light
Losing My Direction
Ms. Rose Goes to Washington
Ripping it up in Cold Kiwi Waters
Accidental Tourists
The Perfect Adventure
As the Eco-Challenge Sabah 2000 stretches into its second week, five four-person teams (of the original 76) have managed to make it through 300 miles of Mark Burnett’s vision of hell on earth. The remaining teams still have several sleepless days of bushwhacking, biking, paddling and trekking through Malaysian Borneo before they finish this, the end-all and be-all of adventure races. But, I’m sure, everyone is just happy to be there, bruised, blistered, starving and at wits’ end.
Adventure racing was born in New Zealand two decades ago. But Burnett, the same guy responsible for Survivor, popularized the multi-sport spectacle in 1995 when he organized the first annual Eco-Challenge in Utah. Every year, the location has gotten more exotic, sponsors have gotten more enthusiastic and the list of race applicants has gotten longer. Today, getting into the Eco-Challenge is proving as hard as the race itself.
In addition to providing a resume of athletic feats and gripping essay about why they deserve to participate, the 76 teams that made the cut this year shelled out a $12,500 entry fee — not including airfare and iodine tablets. Other than prestige, a sense of accomplishment and better sponsorship opportunities, the payoff is not great. The winning team’s cash purse of $55,000 is dinky compared to the $1 million nudist Rich took home for winning Survivor.
Participating in other races, including Raid Gauloises, Southern Traverse and Elf Authentic Adventure, is equally coveted by the growing class of hyper-fit, highly skilled, super-ballsy elite adventure racers. For most weekend warriors, however, competing in these events is as likely as anchoring the 1600-meter relay in Sydney this September.
Races for Real People
As an alternative to the Eco-Challenge, you might consider signing up for one of the more watered-down versions of the sport. You can start with the mass-market multi-sport events. These races cater to the weekend 10k crowd, cost around $200, cover less than 20 miles and are over and done in two to four hours. You don’t need any previous experience to enter them, just a team, a mountain bike and strong legs.
If you like the way you feel after four hours of nonstop exercise, you can graduate to the next level. Any race that lasts longer than 12 hours can be categorized as Feasible but Fucking Hard (FFH). Entry to these events is about $2,000 per team, and the course is likely to cover more than 100 miles and take two to four days to complete. Before you can line up at the start of these events, you usually need to prove that you have basic navigation, climbing and water safety skills.
Both these categories of races attract a fair share of elite teams training and trying to pick up easy prize money. They might inspire you. They might disturb you.
The major multi-sport organizers include:
• California Sports Marketing — Hosts the California Eco Adventure series and the shorter Sprint Adventure series.
• Four Winds Adventure Co. — Puts on 100-mile races in several states on the West Coast.
• Granny Gear Productions — No running, no paddling, just 24 hours of mountain biking.
• Michael Epstein Sport Productions — Their Hi-Tec series is a classic beginner race.
• Odyssey Adventure Racing — Hosts 15 different multi-sport events. Wimps need not apply.
• XTERRA — Specializes in off-road triathlons.
The Posse
Before you can compete in most of these races, you will need to find other people who seek pain, swamp foot and dehydration. That isn’t easy. Most races require teams of three or four, and you typically need at least one member of the opposite sex. You can start with friends and acquaintances, but be prepared to discover that your triathalon-champ buddy doesn’t like to get his shoes dirty, and the crazy girl in the next cubicle who climbs and kayaks every weekend has bad knees and no endurance. Even if you manage to assemble the perfect group of the fit and fearless, you’re all screwed if one of you can’t read a map. Or worse, you don’t get along.
If you have no luck recruiting on your own, you can turn to the personals. Several organizers host message boards for finding partners. One site, Sportingboard.com, also claims to play matchmaker for jocks.
The Skilz
The four major disciplines of adventure racing are mountain biking, trail running, paddling and navigating. All races have surprise obstacles. In the elite races and most FFH races, these obstacles are real canyons, oceans and deserts. The mass-market races typically simulate such uncertainties. In a recent Hi-Tec race, my team and I had to swing over a “gully” two at a time, hurl ourselves over a four-foot “barbed-wire fence” without touching it, and climb a 20-foot wall. These events are indeed as silly as they sound, but they do, in fact, test each team’s ability to work together.
In more serious events, navigation factors into every leg of the race. Rather than follow trail markers, you must interpret the instructions and maps you’re given at different checkpoints. Races that attract recreational adventure racers are often too crowded to do this; everyone can just follow the leader. Instead, teams are given clues for finding various combinations of flags hidden in different spots in the woods.
The Dress Rehearsal
For your first adventure race, the whole point is to finish, not to die training. Make a point of biking and then running a few times to know how quickly that combo can turn your legs to Jell-O. If you’ve never been in a canoe or kayak (most race organizers will provide the kayak or set you up with a rental canoe), learn some basics on how to hold a paddle before you’re handed the foreign object on race day. The same goes for reading a map.
In longer races, just knowing what to wear (no cotton!), what to eat (whatever you can stomach) and how to function with no sleep (practice) is considered a skill. Most teams looking to do FFH races try to schedule a couple of long days of riding, running and paddling, sans rest, to figure out these major details.
One easy, albeit expensive, way to prepare yourself for race day(s) is to sign up for an adventure-racing camp. Just about every race organizer, from Eco-Challenge to Odyssey to Hi-Tec, hosts some kind of adventure camp. They range from one day (about $150) to one week ($1,200) and are designed for both novice and seasoned racers. Even if you don’t fantasize about competing in the Eco-Challenge, you might appreciate the crash course in the outdoors.
Expedition Racing
For Dummies
Adventure Journal by Sarah Rose
Previously in Adventure Journal:
The Guiding Light
Losing My Direction
Ms. Rose Goes to Washington
Ripping it up in Cold Kiwi Waters
Accidental Tourists
The Perfect Adventure
As the Eco-Challenge Sabah 2000 stretches into its second week, five four-person teams (of the original 76) have managed to make it through 300 miles of Mark Burnett’s vision of hell on earth. The remaining teams still have several sleepless days of bushwhacking, biking, paddling and trekking through Malaysian Borneo before they finish this, the end-all and be-all of adventure races. But, I’m sure, everyone is just happy to be there, bruised, blistered, starving and at wits’ end.
Adventure racing was born in New Zealand two decades ago. But Burnett, the same guy responsible for Survivor, popularized the multi-sport spectacle in 1995 when he organized the first annual Eco-Challenge in Utah. Every year, the location has gotten more exotic, sponsors have gotten more enthusiastic and the list of race applicants has gotten longer. Today, getting into the Eco-Challenge is proving as hard as the race itself.
In addition to providing a resume of athletic feats and gripping essay about why they deserve to participate, the 76 teams that made the cut this year shelled out a $12,500 entry fee — not including airfare and iodine tablets. Other than prestige, a sense of accomplishment and better sponsorship opportunities, the payoff is not great. The winning team’s cash purse of $55,000 is dinky compared to the $1 million nudist Rich took home for winning Survivor.
Participating in other races, including Raid Gauloises, Southern Traverse and Elf Authentic Adventure, is equally coveted by the growing class of hyper-fit, highly skilled, super-ballsy elite adventure racers. For most weekend warriors, however, competing in these events is as likely as anchoring the 1600-meter relay in Sydney this September.
Races for Real People
As an alternative to the Eco-Challenge, you might consider signing up for one of the more watered-down versions of the sport. You can start with the mass-market multi-sport events. These races cater to the weekend 10k crowd, cost around $200, cover less than 20 miles and are over and done in two to four hours. You don’t need any previous experience to enter them, just a team, a mountain bike and strong legs.
If you like the way you feel after four hours of nonstop exercise, you can graduate to the next level. Any race that lasts longer than 12 hours can be categorized as Feasible but Fucking Hard (FFH). Entry to these events is about $2,000 per team, and the course is likely to cover more than 100 miles and take two to four days to complete. Before you can line up at the start of these events, you usually need to prove that you have basic navigation, climbing and water safety skills.
Both these categories of races attract a fair share of elite teams training and trying to pick up easy prize money. They might inspire you. They might disturb you.
The major multi-sport organizers include:
• California Sports Marketing — Hosts the California Eco Adventure series and the shorter Sprint Adventure series.
• Four Winds Adventure Co. — Puts on 100-mile races in several states on the West Coast.
• Granny Gear Productions — No running, no paddling, just 24 hours of mountain biking.
• Michael Epstein Sport Productions — Their Hi-Tec series is a classic beginner race.
• Odyssey Adventure Racing — Hosts 15 different multi-sport events. Wimps need not apply.
• XTERRA — Specializes in off-road triathlons.
The Posse
Before you can compete in most of these races, you will need to find other people who seek pain, swamp foot and dehydration. That isn’t easy. Most races require teams of three or four, and you typically need at least one member of the opposite sex. You can start with friends and acquaintances, but be prepared to discover that your triathalon-champ buddy doesn’t like to get his shoes dirty, and the crazy girl in the next cubicle who climbs and kayaks every weekend has bad knees and no endurance. Even if you manage to assemble the perfect group of the fit and fearless, you’re all screwed if one of you can’t read a map. Or worse, you don’t get along.
If you have no luck recruiting on your own, you can turn to the personals. Several organizers host message boards for finding partners. One site, Sportingboard.com, also claims to play matchmaker for jocks.
The Skilz
The four major disciplines of adventure racing are mountain biking, trail running, paddling and navigating. All races have surprise obstacles. In the elite races and most FFH races, these obstacles are real canyons, oceans and deserts. The mass-market races typically simulate such uncertainties. In a recent Hi-Tec race, my team and I had to swing over a “gully” two at a time, hurl ourselves over a four-foot “barbed-wire fence” without touching it, and climb a 20-foot wall. These events are indeed as silly as they sound, but they do, in fact, test each team’s ability to work together.
In more serious events, navigation factors into every leg of the race. Rather than follow trail markers, you must interpret the instructions and maps you’re given at different checkpoints. Races that attract recreational adventure racers are often too crowded to do this; everyone can just follow the leader. Instead, teams are given clues for finding various combinations of flags hidden in different spots in the woods.
The Dress Rehearsal
For your first adventure race, the whole point is to finish, not to die training. Make a point of biking and then running a few times to know how quickly that combo can turn your legs to Jell-O. If you’ve never been in a canoe or kayak (most race organizers will provide the kayak or set you up with a rental canoe), learn some basics on how to hold a paddle before you’re handed the foreign object on race day. The same goes for reading a map.
In longer races, just knowing what to wear (no cotton!), what to eat (whatever you can stomach) and how to function with no sleep (practice) is considered a skill. Most teams looking to do FFH races try to schedule a couple of long days of riding, running and paddling, sans rest, to figure out these major details.
One easy, albeit expensive, way to prepare yourself for race day(s) is to sign up for an adventure-racing camp. Just about every race organizer, from Eco-Challenge to Odyssey to Hi-Tec, hosts some kind of adventure camp. They range from one day (about $150) to one week ($1,200) and are designed for both novice and seasoned racers. Even if you don’t fantasize about competing in the Eco-Challenge, you might appreciate the crash course in the outdoors.
