AuSable River Canoe Marathon 2017

Our Team from left to right: Bri, me, Mark, and Scott. Photo credit: Scott Venman.

The AuSable River Canoe Marathon starts in Grayling, Michigan and finishes near Lake Huron in Oscoda, Michigan.

600 Miles before July 29

The first step in any adventure is to do the math. We've read  that a canoe racer should paddle at least 100 hours to train for the AuSable River Canoe Marathon, an event we did once before in 2015. The 120-mile race from Grayling to Oscoda must be completed in 19 hours for an official finish, meaning that even the back-of-the-pack racers need to maintain a pace of over 6 miles per hour. So, 6 miles per hour times 100 hours is 600 miles. That was our goal set on a cold winter's New Year's Eve. And we did it. Despite some setbacks, including taking three weeks off during late June and early July for Mark to nurse a painful shoulder and a torn ACL in my right knee just one week before the marathon. I'll get to that later.

Lesson 1: Math is deceivingly easy on New Year's Eve. 

By the time the Black River Canoe Race in Port Huron, Michigan, rolled around, we were in full marathon preparation mode. Mark had started fixing cracks in the gunwales, I had started arranging our feeding team, and the light mount was fixed to the bow. At the Black River race, I asked Bob Bradford whether we should do Spikes Challenge (takes place the weekend before the marathon and covers the first 25 or so miles of the marathon course) or the Harry Curley Memorial Race (takes place two weeks before the marathon and covers the last 20 or so miles of the marathon course). He, of course, said, "well, you have to do both." 

Lesson 2: There is no slacking off when Bob is around. He must do the math.

So, we did both. The Harry Curley was fun. We met Rod and Jude Clark, our soon-to-be arch nemesis    team from Australia. Really, they are lovely people. They paddle faster than us, but we have enough familiarity with paddling among the shoals of the AuSable to stay ahead of them in moving water. But, without fail we would hear the Australian accented "hups" closing in on us as soon as we were in deep water.

Start of the Harry Curley Expert 2 Race. Rod and Jude took off fast! Photo credit: Susan Williams.

Lesson 3: Australians are fun canoe racers.

The biggest setback hit when we were at Spikes Challenge the week before the marathon. I tore my ACL taking a practice jump into the river from the boardwalk at Ray's fly fishing shop, which is where the canoes launch into the water for both Spike's and the marathon. That really, really hurt.

Start of Spike's Challenge, a dress rehearsal for the marathon. The new dock at Ray's is much higher than the old dock. This is NOT what I looked like getting into the water.  Photo credit: Erich Schlegel.

Beyond the immediate pain, the thought that we might not finish Spike's, let alone the marathon the following week, consumed me that night and into the morning as we waited for Spike's to start. I fought to keep back the tears, and we hobbled the two blocks with the canoe as others streamed past us during the Le Mans style start. Even with the slow start, we managed to do Spike's, though, with some help getting the canoe out at the finish when I could barely stand. We were thrilled that we met our goal time without too much difficulty despite the knee. This gave us some encouragement that we might stand a chance to finish the marathon after all.

Great photo from Spikes Challenge showing off our marathon sponsors, Kruger Canoes and Riverside Kayak Connection (RKC). Photo credit: Erich Schlegel.

Lesson 4: Don't jump off that boardwalk, Lauren.

Race Day

Well, it's really not quite appropriate to say "race day." For us, it began on Friday, July 28, when we were scheduled to do our time trial for our lineup position. It's important to understand that two city blocks separate the leaders from the back of the pack at the lineup. A faster sprint means a shorter trip to the water, which means a quicker getaway out of town. We paddled fast enough to put ourselves in the 2nd to last row, just about where we were last time we did this.

Coming around the corner upstream during our time trial sprint. Photo credit: AuSable River Canoe Marathon Facebook page.

Our buoy turn. Photo credit: Bob Bradford

After our sprint, we put our canoe in sequestration and went to the pre-race briefing and paddler social. At the paddlers social, some people were concerned about my knee, but when I told Rod I tore my ACL, his response was, "you don't need that!" Then, he promised to get me a brace that he had brought all the way from Australia, just in case.

Setting up for the safety inspection on the way out of sequestration. Photo credit: Scott Venman.

Lesson 5: You don't need an ACL to do the marathon. I hoped Rod was right.

Race Day. Really.

After all the build-up of the Harry Curley, Spikes, and the pre-race hullabaloo, I was ready to get this show on the road. I hobbled across the boardwalk during paddler introductions with Mark, trying my best to focus on not falling off. Our dynamite feeding team, Bri and Scott, found us, and then we got our canoe from sequestration and headed for our lineup position. I have to wonder what Bri and Scott were thinking when they saw me hobbling along. Did they think we would make it? Did they think they dedicated a weekend away from home to spend all night waiting for us along the river banks for nothing? I was feeling very uncertain, myself. But, we really had no reason not to try.

We headed for the back of the line. Our sprint landed us in the 2nd to last row. That meant we had double the distance to portage the canoe than the leaders. We put the canoe in position and waited.

There was plenty of time for pictures and milling around while we waited for the start. Our Team from left to right: Bri, me, Mark, and Scott. Photo credit: Scott Venman.

Mark P of Kruger Canoes was there to support us. Photo credit: Scott Venman.

Riverside Kayak Connection sponsored us this year. Thanks, RKC! Photo credit: Scott Venman.

The excitement builds. Photo credit: Scott Venman.

Scott and Bri found a place to squeeze in just in front of the radio announcers. We couldn't have asked for a better duo to feed us all night. Phot credit: Bri Drake, I assume.

Finally, after about an hour and a half, the countdown began. I'm not sure if we heard the gun go off or if we just saw everyone pick up their canoes and decided to do the same. In any case, quite soon, we were off and running. Well, not really. We were off and slowly walking. The pack disappeared ahead of us. The few fast runners behind us flew past us. The walkers soon left us in the dirt. In no time, it was just us, Canoe Number 49. And the thousands of people lining the street screaming at us. It seemed that as the last canoe ahead of us passed the crowd, a lull settled in until we approached. The crowd started moving into the street, but an officer or volunteer noticed us and shoed people back to the curb. I have never heard such a loud cacophony of cheering. All attention was focused on us. I set my focus on the street ahead and did my best to keep emotions at bay so that we could get to the start. In my mind, I imagine that Mark was just ambling along behind. I wondered what he was thinking through all of this.

This video has footage of the start, with the gun firing at about 4 minutes 15 seconds into the video. We appear at about 6:20...

As we approached the dock at Ray's, we heard the announcer wrapping up and telling spectators to have a safe drive to Oscoda. We learned later from Scott that the announcers were actually packing up their equipment, thinking the last team had entered the water. The crowd was still there, however, and they suddenly burst into cheers as we walked down the length of the boardwalk. We had the boardwalk all to ourselves. We put the canoe in the water, and I carefully lowered myself down into the water amid the noise.

A lonely start. Photo credit: Scott Venman.

Finally. We were ready to paddle. There was no other canoe in sight. We had work to do. We dug in and paddled. Once we got in that boat and started pulling, we dug in for all we were worth. We paddled like crazy, in part to feed the "paddle lust" of the crowd, but also in desperation to keep up.  We couldn't run. But we could paddle.

Finally. We are paddling. Photo credit: Bri Drake.

Time to catch up. Photo credit: Bob Bradford.

The Race

When people ask, "how was the race?" what is the proper response? "It was fun!" No. Not quite right. "It was hell." Not that either.  "It was challenging." An understatement. "It was painful." Yes, but... "It  was awesome." Yes. That's probably the right word. "Awesome" in the sense that I still can't believe it; like a dream that lasted over 18 hours. Did we really do it? After our adventures, I am often left with images and sounds that are burnt into my mind. These images and sounds are usually more profound to me than the sequence of events that form a story. I'll try to describe them here. Sorry there are no pictures. We were kind of busy. I am hoping that Scott will write a blog from the feeders' perspective that will have some pictures of the race itself.

Images and Sounds

Fading light (it is sometimes more difficult to make sense of the world in fading light than in darkness)

Black swirls in the water.

A string of canoe lights ahead of us.

The cool, damp night air settling in over the river.

Brilliant stars.

The Big Dipper hanging large over the river.

The glow of our headlight reflecting off of two hats in front of us.

Punctuations of intense light amid the darkness as we passed under bridges lit up by generators and crowds.

A beaver slapping its tail

A mink scampering along the river's edge

Bri and Scott greeting us with a loud "49" or "Seven Squared" at every feeding stop

Mark softly saying "hup"

Peggy and Ellen's light that went strobe for a while. How the heck they didn't have a seizure I don't know!

A canoe trapped under a tree, with it's headlight shining in our eyes. Did they finish?

Swarms of bugs in front of our headlight

Wisps of fog

Fog banks that looked like marsh grass in the pale glow of the headlight

Shallow water moving fast over shoals

A tree materializing in the fog across the middle of the river (we managed to paddle backward and ferry left to avoid it after a near collision)

Fish habitat cribs just inches below the water

Onlookers calling out, "Are you the Australians?" or "Go Aussies!"

And, sometimes, onlookers calling out, "Go number 49!"

Jan and Bob Bradford calling out, "Go Lauren! Go Mark!"

The cursor moving along the bends in the river on our GPS.

Mark and me discussing each portage as we approached.

Campfires marking the spots where spectators lingered

Peggy and Ellen's black paddle floating past us in the dark waters of the first Mio cut. Reaching out to grab it, but just out of reach.

Peggy and Ellen paddling near us in the darkness across Mio Pond.

The first light of day. Hallelujah.

Singing the Doxology at the fist light of day. Somehow that song always seems appropriate as day breaks after a long night's paddle.

The mileage chart taped to the gunwale.

My feet in front of me, stacked one on top of the other.

Connie Cannon somehow showing up at our portages like a guardian angel. Mark later told me that at one portage, she appeared beside him out of the darkness, and suggested that he just drag the down the grass next to the path. Ah. What a relief it must have been to him to not have to carry that canoe down every slope.

The sun in my eyes.

Jan Bradford seeing me with my trekking pole and Mark carrying the canoe at 5 Channels (or was it Loud?) Dam and saying, "well, now I've seen it all."

Dry heaves and vomiting from other canoes as we passed. Still not that easy to pass with one paddler down.

Rod and Jude coming up behind us. "Hup."

Closing in on Rod and Jude from behind at the last stretch in Oscoda. Rod, exhausted but not wanting to be passed, turning to us, saying, "Are we really going to do this?"

The finish line announcer reading off Rod and Jude's stats, and the crowd going wild for the Australians.

The finish line announcer reading off our stats! We came in 69th! An improvement over last time, and 15 minutes faster!!

The Krugerheads waiting for us at the finish.

Bri and Scott waiting for us at the finish.

The bed at the Apsen Inn.

Some finishing pictures

Thanks to our friends who shared the moment with us at the finish. We know you were there along the riverbanks cheering us along. It takes a special friend to stick it out for the back of the pack.

The nail biter finish as we duked it out for 68th place with the Aussies. From Rod: "Are we really going to do this?" Photo credit: Bri Drake.

We did it! Photo credit: Mike Smith

Paddi and Andy met us at the finish. They had a great finish this year! Photo credit: Bri Drake

I supported myself with my trekking pole, trying not to fall over while our friends greeted us. Thanks, Jan, Mark, Linda, and Landon for meeting us at the finish! Photo credit: Bri Drake.

Debriefing with the Bradfords. Photo credit: Scott Venman.

Team Kruger. Photo credit: someone at the finish line.

Finishing portrait. Photo credit: Bri Drake

The Stats

69th Place out of 73 finishers (80 teams began the race)

116 miles on the GPS

Moving average 6.3 mph

Moving time 18 hours 16 minutes

No stopped time

Official finish time 18:16:13