You know it's going to be a fun time when a race director decides you need an extra 3 hours tacked on to a 24-hour sprint race. The Hard Fall, directed by GMARA out of West Dover, Vermont, absolutely did not disappoint. As I wrap up my fourth year in adventure racing with 42 races under my belt, I've developed a craving for as much variety as possible. So, when I heard this race would include swimming, stand-up paddleboarding, Class II whitewater, and some intriguing strategy options involving packrafts, I knew it would be a highlight of my year. I was particularly excited to race alongside my friends Chris and Dave under the Tug Hill Outfitters banner. Both are exceptional athletes and navigators. When their usual teammate was unavailable, I was thrilled to be asked to fill in. Dave had also just completed the 120-mile Au Sable canoe race a few weekends prior, so I was eager to see how my skills would measure up in my debut with these team members.

As a neurodivergent athlete, packing involved some organized chaos. Adventure racing has taught me how to establish some guardrails for my brain to minimize mistakes due to lapses in focus during preparation and racing. I constantly worry about forgetting something major because I got distracted by a bumblebee. Fortunately, I managed to avoid any gear mishaps, though I did experience a brief panic at check-in when I thought my PFD had gone wayward, only to discover it was stashed in the team's vehicle. Teamwork at its finest!

Race morning began with the realization that the team’s sleep quality left a little to be desired. We picked up maps and sorted out a gas station breakfast. Dave and Chris took on the majority of route planning while I focused on the rules of travel. The race flow included trek, short swim, paddle, bike, trek/SUP, bike, paddle/trek, bike, trek, bike, trek. Notably, I'd never been on a stand-up paddleboard before,  it’s always so comforting to find out that you are going to embark on learning a brand new sport in the middle of a race.

We loaded up on the buses to get over to the start and I thoroughly enjoyed sitting next to a guy who decided to go for broke and take on The Hard Fall as his very first adventure race. Anyone who knows me will verify that nothing can make my day faster than getting an opportunity to sell someone on AR.

We arrived at the start and everyone scattered for the obligatory pre-race pee. The race began and we immediately made a grab for the pointy end of the race, and thanks to Chris and Dave we made quick work of the first few CPs. I had done a bunch of new prep on my foot and skin care for this race, in particular finally trying out those Engo blister patches that I had heard so much about. Foot arch blisters have been my race kryptonite, and once they begin brewing, I start gripping my insole with my toes to keep my foot from sliding around, which would then wreck the skin on my toes. I am thrilled to report that the Engo blister patches helped immensely, and I thoroughly recommend them if you are still workshopping blister strategies. Having such happy feet gave me a huge energy boost for this first leg.

Midway through the first trek we were doing some bushwhacking and I side-eyed a Yellowjacket that seemed to be inspecting us. Moments later, I felt the characteristic tap tap that signified the wasp bouncing off my thigh, which is the sole warning you ever get from those heathens before they teach you the error of your ways. I yelled “RUN” to the team who took off just a moment behind me as Dave and I were both stung a few times while Chris emerged unscathed.

 We had been informed somewhat ominously that while there were no cliffs on the way down to the river at the end of leg one, we should proceed with caution. This ended up meaning that we lost maybe 1000 feet of elevation in a quarter of a mile. Steep descents off trail are my least favorite skill of all time (single leg squats can kiss my you know what), so I did the lazy lady method and slid down on my butt. Down at the bank we threw on our PFDs and got swimming across the river. The water was bracing but I kind of loved having the opportunity to wash off some sweat and grime. There were two downsides. Firstly, the KT tape I had applied to my butt crack (you decided to read this race report, sorry not sorry) to try to cut down on chafing was no more. Secondly, the entire far shore was covered in poison ivy, to which I am very allergic, so I am now enjoying a 9 day course of prednisone. HOT TIP: If you get poison ivy and have access to a hair dryer, blow hot air on the rash until it feels like it’s almost going to burn. It will be the most satisfying sensation of scratching an itch of all time, and it takes the itch away for hours. You’re welcome.

We got our packrafts inflated and got on the water a little bit behind schedule. We had hoped to get going on this leg right as the dam release was at peak, but luckily we had a pretty big margin of error. I started in my solo packraft but then switched into the tandem with Chris when it became clear that there was no way I could keep up with them. Dave made quick work of leaving us in his wake for the rest of the paddle. I spent most of my time being aghast at the number of people tubing while drinking beer and floating down the river through class I and II- whitewater without wearing PFDs.

The end of this leg brought us to our bikes and the glorious surprise of a food truck. I had been having some stomach trouble so I waffled about consuming more sugar heavy foods in the form of ice cream and bubble tea, but ate as much as I dared. I also whipped out my first McDonalds hamburger which was my big food experiment for this race. I stashed a total of five quarter pounders in my pack and in the bin. I ate them through out the race, and can now add to the growing body of evidence that those burgers really do not ever go bad.

We took off on the bikes and began to work away at the never-ending climbs that characterized most of the biking on this race. When we arrived at the trail section of this leg Dave, who had been lagging a bit, stopped to inspect his bike. It turned out his back wheel was not spinning freely and so he was having to work twice as hard to make any progress. He thought it was maybe a caliper issue (please don’t ask me what that is), but no matter what, it seemed that it was going to make the rest of our time on the bikes no fun at all.

We arrived even more behind schedule to the next TA and began to investigate whether we could switch Dave’s bike out with another racer who had dropped out after being stung by a bee which for him had necessitated a hospital visit. The race staff said they would let us know what the status was when we finished the SUP and trek loop which ended at the same TA. We headed out on the lake to get the 3 CPs on the water. It immediately became apparent that I am not a natural born SUPer, so I basically sat and paddled like I was in a canoe. Sitting still on the board also brought on some leg cramps which are a new occurrence for me ever since I began taking a statin for my cholesterol. Ugh.

After the SUP section, we were allowed to split the team in half to try to squeeze a few trekking CPs before the sun fully went down. I went with Dave, and we only had time to grab one before we needed to head back to the TA. We wanted to be extra conservative because we knew that we were potentially in for a long night on the bikes if we couldn’t switch Dave’s out. We got back to the TA and miracle of all miracles, after some tinkering, the bike was mostly working again. We took off in earnest, now heading into the darkness and stoked to be able to really focus on racing again. This biking leg was literally called “up a bigger hill” and yeah, it didn’t disappoint on that front. It was at this point that Dave’s day got even worse than it had been already, as we realized that none of us had clocked that his PFD was no longer attached to his pack. PFDs were mandatory gear that needed to be on our person for basically the entire race. There was nothing to do but keep going and hope for another miracle at the next TA.

If I know one thing about the inimitable Shari Hymes, it’s that she can manifest miracles wherever she goes. She handed us Dave’s PFD at the next TA that somebody must have spotted and handed over to get delivered further down the course. Not only that, but she was making all the racers perfectly gooey grilled cheeses, one of those best meal ever moments. We once again inflated the packrafts, ate as much food as we could possibly shove into our mouths and headed out into the reservoir. The fact that Chris and Dave could read the land features on this paddle still feels like wizardry to me. We bit off a big portion of this leg as we started to relax after having lived through all our bad juju. As we continued, we started to flirt with some sleepiness, and I doled out some caffeine gum. Most of the teams turned off their headlamps for this paddle, meaning the boats were solely illuminated by the mandatory glowsticks, which led to bizarre looking light scape across the water. We did not take on any of the trekking sections where it made sense to deflate and carry the rafts, instead just leaving them on shore and bushwhacking out and back. Since I am the weakest paddler on the team, and we were dealing with flat water, the guys were in the tandem and they put me on tow in the solo.

Back at the TA we refilled water and food, prepping for the bike leg appropriately named, “up an even BIGGER hill”. We headed out a little before 3am and I knew that this would be the leg where we discover how well we have taken care of ourselves, and what that would mean for the rest of the race. Sleepy, soooo sleepy… I was pounding the caffeine gum at this point. The guys were also starting to flag as the hills just kept going and going. I had recently raced Almost Heaven down in WV, and had been so traumatized by walking my bike up several mountains for most of the race that I was insistent I was going to keep pedaling no matter how slow I had to go. As a result, I surprised myself a little bit and was able to stay in the saddle for several hills that I would have never anticipated biking previously.

We hit TA7 after sunrise and found ourselves needing to power down for 10 minutes to try to revive. This after quite the downpour hit in the early hours of the morning. Being soaking wet made our short rest a very cold proposition. We headed out on leg 8 and despite fatigue, Chris and Dave continued to nail the nav. We stopped briefly at CP 55 which was a large rock overhang with a table and chairs that offered a fantastic view of the rainforest like landscape we were traveling through. I love to have at least one moment every race to allow some stillness and appreciation for the places we are so lucky to experience. Back to the TA.

Finally some down hill as we headed back towards the CPs that surrounded the finish line. We painfully missed one turn (basically the only nav mistake the entire race), which meant biking all the way back up a giant hill we had gleefully bombed down. We skipped the national forest section, instead opting for picking off CPs near the finish until we ran out of time. Plus, we were psyched to hit the three CPs that were inside the mines halfway up the Mount Snow ski slope. After dropping our bikes at the bottom of the slope, we slowly trudged up the steep hill, definitely feeling the pain at this point. The slippery climb was well worth it to check out the mine entrances, special thanks to GMARA for including these CPs, they were awesome.

Back on the bikes we rolled into the finish with an hour to spare at right the 26 hour mark. We could have opted to throw in a trekking CP or two, but nah. I took stock and reflected on all the tweaks I had made to my gear, food, and body care before this race. I found that after four years of racing I have finally come pretty darn close to having a working system that allows me to only be limited by how fast I can race. Additionally, watching Chris and Dave nav throws into sharp focus what I need to be spending my time on during the off season. Seeing talented navigators do their thing is an ever helpful reminder that the orienteering part of racing is EVERYTHING. I feel incredibly lucky to have had an opportunity to race with all the members of the Tug Hill team, and I hope to get more opportunities to race with them in the future, especially if they stick to their post race bloody mary tradition. Onwards to Nationals! See you all there.