Big Muddy Rogaine
Derek Maclean (LAOC)
Thorsten Graeve (BAOC)

The early-dawning sun began to cook us in our tents from about 5:30. By 7
am it was already intolerable, forcing us out of the tent and into the
glare. We took breakfast in the shadow of the car, chatting to our
Canadian neighbours about the book I'd been reading: June Caldwell's
"Portrait of Canada", a shocking critique of Canada for being written by
a Canadian native.  

Having spent the night at the event, for once we had ample time to get
organized. In addition, I would save time by having begun the
all-important podiatric preparation the previous night. After the
foot-mangling experience of the first rogaine that Thorsten and I did
together (at the Mogollon Rim in Arizona), this ritual has become the
single most time-consuming part of my pre-race prep. No less than five
different types of blister prevention cover every inch of skin on my
lower extremities: Compeed and SafeSkin patches on high use areas, lots
of moleskin, BandAids on big toes, tape on the small ones. It takes at
least 30 mins per foot, and the serious blister prevention stuff works
better if you give it longer to mould to your skin, so best to get
started ahead of time! 

One other difference to our three prior 24 hr excursions was that this
time I was to be the one doing the food shopping, rather than Thorsten.
Thus here we would have no PB+J on Wonderbread, summer sausage, or string
cheese. Instead there would be marmalade and cream cheese on wheat,
tapioca pudding, and Burger King Whoppers! The burger was to be my secret
culinary weapon, being one food item for which I have consistently lusted
for in dark moments far from hash houses. So what if it's cold, and a
day old it's still got to be better than Power Bars, right? These I find
indigestible at the best of times, and past experience shows this to be
heightened by rogaine exertions. None of them this time either.

9 am rolled around and we head for the HH warehouse, where map handout
had dispersed the teams to small huddles throughout the building. First
impression of the map suggested that a multitude of course choices were
possible, with the controls dispersed evenly over much of the map.  Four
routes were obvious to/from the hash house, suggesting a single visit
back to the relatively central HH as a good strategy. Six water drops
were other key planning points, given the anticipated extreme heat. The
area presented a complex topographic pattern with sets of ridges
undulating as high as 1500 ft above the valley floors. There was no area
which looked significantly simpler than the others, often an attractive
consideration for nighttime. The deepest canyon traversed the map east to
west, and the main dirt road went north to south, together dividing the
map roughly in four quadrants. In our last two rogaines we'd got bogged
down and lost morale early on by tackling difficult controls at the
outset. This time we decided to take easy stuff early to get us rolling.
Thus the plan was to head NW, where the slopes were relatively gentle,
move on to complete the SW area before heading back to camp just after
nightfall, then head back out NE, only tackling the SE sector (with a
sparser network of controls) if we had plenty time left. As usual, we had
a flexible plan to get almost every control, with a variety of bail-out
options depending on our progress. Only on the Mogollon Rim had we come
even close to executing fully on such a strategy. In Canada and at the
Little Rincons in Arizona the terrain beat us up so badly that our plan
got chopped early and often. It's hard to get the balance right between
the fear that you will be too conservative, leaving vital points which
others will get, versus the sapping of morale caused by having to cut
over-ambitious plans. This skill undoubtedly grows with experience, and
by accurately judging the capabilities of your partnership. Thorsten and
I are getting better, but based on our earlier efforts, are not there
yet. How would we do this time?  

Just as we completed our planning, Steph and Rory (age 4.5) arrived at
the HH. It was the only reasonably cool place around, so everyone was
hanging out there. The hall was fitted out for paintball, with
camouflaged barrels and props for cover. It was a hide-and-seek paradise,
and Rory immediately enlisted me as hider. While "seeking" me he found a
great spot over in the far corner. For his turn to hide, I peeked over to
see him gleefully head over to use that place. However, he suddenly
crashed down wailing and crying. Turned out he'd run a bit close to a
rogainers dog, which snapped at him. At first we thought that he had just
gotten a fright, or maybe hurt himself falling, but then he showed us a
couple of small scratches on the back of his hip that looked like teeth
marks. Then a few minutes later we were shocked to find a gaping wound on
the front of his hip, 1 cm long, not bleeding much, but deep and oozing.
The sight of it quite upset him and he was shaking and sobbing hard.
Although a number of the competitors had registered as having medical
training, with the rogaine about to start it was hard to find someone to
help. We quickly decided he needed proper attention. Steph agreed to take
him to the nearest hospital in Madras 45 miles away. The thought of how
they were getting on was quite a distraction for me throughout the
rogaine. I could imagine the pain Rory would be going through as the
doctor tried to clean the wound, and I also kept visualizing how his
innocent excitement had turned so quickly to horror. This all happened
about 40 mins before the start of the rogaine, when I still had a lot of
packing and organizing to get done. The incident certainly did not help
my mental state, and I managed to forget: a) flashlight; b) jacket; c)
sandwiches.  

The countdown to the 11 am start ended, and the crowd dispersed in four
directions. At least that's what I was told. To me it seemed that
everyone was heading the same trajectory that we were, to a first control
in a significant re-entrant, 1.5 km away and 200 ft above the HH.
Somewhat technical, we were pleased to hit it spot on, alone in front
with no other team in sight behind us (33). The second leg was similar,
another 1.5 km, 160 ft climb, cross-country effort. Not overly difficult,
but with potential for error, and certainly not trivial to hit spot on.
Again, our navigation was right on the money, for juicy points (84). 

The map was of the promised standard of reliability. A 22x17" 1:24,000
USGS with 40 ft contours, the terrain was grassy and open, which had
presumably made the photogrammetry easier, but nevertheless, the guy who
made it did a good job, adding enough little humps, bumps, and wiggles in
the contour lines to make the map so much more readable and useful. It
was not difficult to get lost, with few linear features, and one ridge or
spur looking much like the next, but you could rarely blame the map for
that. 

Our third control was again similar. We strode out a further 1.5 km
across very pleasant grassy meadows, with ever-improving views as we
ascended to higher elevations. A coyote crossed the meadow 100 yards in
front of us, stalking an unseen prey, and turning tail on eventually
sighting us. We spiked the control again (51), pleased with ourselves,
but surprised to see another team coming up behind. They took a different
route out, but were heading to the same control 4, and we bumped into
them at the next saddle. Turned out to be Andy Dale (CROC) and his
brother, moving at quite a pace, but fortunately (for them and us!) only
doing the 8 hr competition. There was no way they could keep up their
speed for 24 h, and no way that we could keep up with them for even one
control. We did stay together chatting as we ascended to claim our first
100-pointer at what we thought was the highest point on the course (101).
Unfortunately the true geographical high point turned out to be a
psychological low that we were saving for the afternoon heat. 
      
Descending from high, we traversed a series of ridges and meadows 2 km to
the first water stop control (58). From the check-in sheet, the Dales had
beaten us by 10 mins on this leg. An impressive pace, but at less than 2
hours into the event, it was going to be hard to maintain. Next for us
came a series of 4 controls, generally on an easier, downhill grade, and
not so technical. Error-free, and plain sailing (21, 57, 34, 36). 

The sun, now directly overhead, was brutal, and we gasped for any cooling
breath of wind as we ascended each ridge. Coming down from our ninth
control through a broad valley there was a strange set-up: two
symmetrical rows of pits, each hole being roughly 15 ft square, 5 ft
deep, with the tailings for each neatly piled alongside. Both Thorsten
and I thought they looked like nothing more than some sort of planned
mass burial site, but convinced ourselves it was probably something more
agricultural. 

Heading south, the topography became less benign, and we endured a steep,
rocky traverse through a deep canyon, finally climbing to a small saddle
on a knife-edge ridge (80). The course-setting had largely avoided
sadistic tendencies. There were many instances where it would have been
all too easy to stick controls high on vertiginous hilltops, but instead
the course setters had opted for spurs, saddles, re-entrants. There was
an impression that quite some time had been invested in field-work
looking for desirable locations offering the right degree of physical and
technical challenge. We appreciated it!

Arriving at a water stop (35) at 3 pm after a long, treeless descent, we
encountered four other teams. Seeing the fatigue in their faces brought
home how much the heat was taking out of all of us. Our plan next had us
embarking on a brutal climb of 1600 ft through 3 controls (54, 62, 86)
over 4 km, in the hottest part of the day. We were forced to take rests
of increasing duration in the shade of almost every living tree we passed
(a fire about five years back had left many ghost-like tree skeletons,
far too sparse to offer much sun-stopping power). Half way up this trek,
one of these breaks mysteriously morphed into a full-fledged siesta.
Thorsten was impressed at my ability to be snoring within 5 minutes of
curling up on that rocky spot in the shade of a mountain pine. Waking up
after 45 mins at 5:15 pm the sun was well into its descent, and we felt
we had beaten the worst of the heat. We didn't know that the effects of
the long day were still accumulating. Finally we completed this toughest
section of our route, arriving at the course's high point, a spectacular
outlook tower on a high, windswept ridge (86). Another three teams were
hanging out there in various stages of exhaustion, but like us generally
feeling good at claiming their 80 points. 

En route to two more controls down the hill (61, 50) we began to overhaul
another team, though we were impressed by their pace. We caught and
passed them by the next control, but pausing for refreshment in the next
shady streambed they passed us again. I ate the second half of my
Whopper. The first half had been a treat, but this part didn't go down
quite so easily. The familiar signs of rogaine tummy were arriving. Or
had that burger just gone a little off on its second day in captivity,
stewing in a sun-soaked backpack for 7 hours. Right now this makes me
queasy just thinking about it. 

In any case, the next water stop (102) was again a popular hang-out. For
100 points and a slug of warm water many had been driven to that desolate
spot in the furthest SW corner of the map. I knew at that point that
things were not going so well for me. The blood seemed to have departed
my head and legs and focused its attention on my gut. I was
simultaneously dizzy, heavy-legged, and nauseous. In particular, every
slight uphill exacerbated the symptoms to the point where sitting down
and sleeping became overwhelming impulses. I was thinking the burger was
to blame, but I later heard from others that these were the symptoms of
heat exhaustion that they had experienced. My LAOC clubmate Danny Trudeau
told me later that he had been physically ill on a number of occasions,
and he's an experienced ultramarathoner.

Leaving the water control we headed off for another 80 pointer almost 3
km away, including crossing three major canyons and several minor ones.
Thorsten plotted an efficient route to minimize climb, but I was really
suffering, and it was a major struggle to escape the final canyon to the
vicinity of the marker (83). A large rattlesnake announced its ownership
of a sunny spot just in front of us; we did not debate the point and
steered well clear. 

We finally arrived at the control as the sun set, just after the team
we'd been leap-frogging for the past four controls. At that point it was
clear that we would have to cut short our quest for the high-point
controls in this southern part of the map. However, the sign-in sheet
revealed our rivals to be proceeding with what we had planned. They were
looking strong and would surely beat us if they could follow through. We,
with somewhat heavy hearts, began our convoluted trek back to camp: 8 km
as the crow flies; 12 km, 7 controls, and an unbelievable 8 hrs as these
orienteers walked and crawled through the night.

The third of these controls (66, after 63, 43) was the one that really
got us. A 2 km cross country traverse over a saddle-backed ridge,
Thorsten picked out a good route avoiding the major canyons. In my
physical state, and without my flashlight (duh!), I was reduced to
trudging behind, never really knowing where we were, where we were going,
or why. That was OK for me at that point, just as long as we got there.
Unfortunately, we didn't quite get there first time, not being quite sure
whether to turn left or right as we exited the final canyon system. I
made the executive decision that we would just sit right there. Then
maybe just lie down for a bit. Then get out the space blanket, since it
was getting chilly. Then before you knew it, more than an hour had
passed. It was a strange and beautiful feeling to open one's eyes to see
a sea of stars above a wooded skyline, with that moment of shock at not
seeing one's bedroom wall. 

When we woke again (now midnight) we quickly managed to locate the
control we'd missed earlier. The next leg was a straightforward 2 km
along the road and up a short re-entrant (37). Three more controls to the
HH. It would have been so nice to just hike the road 4 km home, but we
dug deep to collect 100 more points (67, 27, 25). These were all
cross-country legs, offering some navigational challenge in what was now
deep darkness, the moon having set one hour previously. On the final
trudge in, I counted down every step of the last kilometer. The route
took us past the camp site, and I was more than pleased to see our Volvo
wagon back in its place, meaning that Steph and Rory had returned from
the hospital. I also noted our kite sitting out by the rear wheel.
Excellent! they must have been fit to play in the afternoon. Reassured, I
headed down for our way-past midnight snack. Unfortunately there was
really nothing that I felt my stomach could tolerate beyond orange juice.
It was certainly nice to drink something cold. The food selection was OK,
if not up to the extremely high standards of Tucson's meet. Nevertheless,
you've got to appreciate the efforts of folks who are staying up all
night to feed you. Heading back to the tent, Thorsten was apparently
still planning to go out again in the morning, saying "I'll wake you at
sunrise". "No promises" was my parting shot; however, in my heart I
really felt that our rogaine was over.

Normally, being woken up at 2:45 am is rather low on Steph's list of
enjoyment. However, on this occasion I think she was quite pleased to see
me back, and I was happy to hear that Rory was OK and that things had
gone well at the clinic. Beyond that, it probably took me about 30
seconds to get to sleep.

Three hours later, I woke to find the sun again beating down on us
through the tent walls. Checking off body parts I came to the conclusion
that I was not suffering too much from our efforts so far. What the heck.
I left the tent and found Thorsten also getting up. I figured I could at
least try and eat some breakfast, then decide if grabbing a few more
controls was a good idea. A bowl of oatmeal and an orange went down OK,
so we took off again. 

Clearly, with only 3.5 h left, our earlier strategy would have to be
severely curtailed. Still, there was an attractive loop with an 80
pointer and two 60s, which looked quite doable. Striding out from the HH,
I was surprised how strong I felt. The 300 ft climb to the first control
(31) went easily, although the heat was already becoming intense. Another
200 ft climb, and 2 km traverse to the next flagged hilltop (46), still
feeling OK, dodging from tree to tree to grab some shade. 240 ft up to
our fifth 80-pointer (87; out of 8 possible 80-pointers; we also got 2 of
the 4 100-pointers and 6 of 9 60-pointers). Down to a water control (24),
the furthest point from the HH for the morning (6 km). It had only taken
1.5 hrs to get there, giving us hope that we could complete the remaining
6 controls in the last two hours. Unfortunately we began to slow down as
fatigue steadily overcame me again, and by the time the next two controls
(68, 40) were under our belt, it looked like we would have to cut things
short. Although we were maintaining a respectable pace of about 10
mins/km on the road, any cross-country route was taking a lot out of us.
We walked back 5 km uphill on the road, picking up a single 20-pointer
almost in sight of the HH (22), leaving 30, 60, and 40 point controls
tantalizingly outside our time horizon. We arrived back with 5 mins to
spare (the last team?). Our morning jaunt netted us 290 points, compared
to 1360 in the prior day's 14 hr marathon. Total of 1650 put us 2nd in
mens open, 5th overall. For some reason, when Thorsten told me that
result I got quite choked up. We'd really put a lot of ourselves into
this. It was gratifying to get a respectable result, but somewhat
frustrating to know how much better we'd have been without the burden of
the heat exhaustion.

The winning total of 1840 was less than I would have expected. This was a
score which ought to have been well within reach for us, had we handled
the heat and exertion just a fraction better. I think the heat affected
everyone eventually. Congratulations to the teams that beat us for
digging that bit deeper, being smarter or better prepared than us -
whatever the key was! We'll try and learn from this experience and come
back stronger next time.

Amazingly I still couldn't eat anything at the HH. My stomach wouldn't
allow it, and the intense heat had become totally oppressive. I needed to
get out of there. Steph had packed up much of the camp, Thorsten found a
ride to the airport. The results were taking too long to categorize, so
we left. The Oregon heatwave was supposedly waning, but it still felt hot
all the way past Portland. We stopped at a roadside diner, where I
thought I may be just about able to take a plate of soup. However, the
buffet dinner was only a few bucks more, and there seemed to be a few
decent things there, so...

Four courses later I was stuffed, amazed how much I'd been able to put
away, and delighted to have an appetite back! Once it does come back, I
typically have a huge, near-insatiable appetite for about 48 hrs after a
24 hr rogaine. It's great, but you've got to know when to stop!

One of these days Thorsten and I are going to have a rogaine go just
right. Physically there's room for improvement, particularly in my case.
Psychologically, we're a pretty good match. We've had an excuse on each
of our four outings: feet/terrain/terrain/heat. But these are just
excuses. The course is the same for everyone, so what's the missing
ingredient? Planning, preparation, execution? Each aspect gets a little
better each time, but I bet we'll qualify for the veteran's class before
we'll make it click. The jury is still out on the burger ;-)

-Derek