Competing for a national title

I got up bright and early this morning, and after making a quick breakfast and breaking camp I headed over to the start/finish area to prepare my boat and gear for battle.  To me the "known quantities" among the competition were Mike Herbert of Rogers, Arkansas; Kiril Florov of Chicago, Illinois; and Scott Cummins of Louisville, Kentucky.  All three had raced K1 ICF yesterday and I had a pretty good idea what to expect from them today; plus, Scott had beaten me narrowly in Nashville two weeks ago and I had returned the favor on Fontana Reservoir last weekend, so I figured we'd be keeping each other company for much of today's race with the hope of claiming the tiebreaker.

Here's an aerial view of the course:

That's Chaplain Schmitt Island at the top, with the Mississippi River flowing north to south to the right.  The island is separated from the rest of Dubuque by Lake Peosta Channel.  The starting line was near the north end of Chaplain Schmitt Island, and we would follow the white line down Lake Peosta Channel to where it re-enters the Mississippi, then down the river to a buoy turn, then back up the Mississippi and up along the east side of the island back to where we'd started.  Then we would repeat that loop.  Then, finally, we would do a lap of the island only, without going downriver to do that buoy turn a third time.  The advertised total distance was 13 miles.

Other classes competing today were men's solo canoe, women's tandem canoe, and standup paddle board.  The classes started at five-minute intervals and K1 Unlimited was nearly the last to start, so we would be catching up with a lot of boats in other classes as the race went on.  We watched the classes start before us, and then it was our turn.  When the gun went off I did the same thing I always try to do: get a good quick start and establish good position early.

Mike and Kiril took the early lead, as I'd expected, but I was surprised when they didn't leave me in the dust right away.  I was able to sit on Mike's left-side wake for several minutes (Mike later told me that since he'd already raced hard both Friday and yesterday, he'd planned to race conservatively today).  Scott enjoyed an even better position on the "diamond" between Mike and Kiril. Over to the right a guy none of us knew (Ryan Peterson of Minnesota, we later found out) was matching our early pace in a training-weight surf ski with an overstern rudder.

Before long Mike and Kiril broke contact with Scott and me, and my old nemesis-friend and I settled into our familiar wake-trading routine.  Ryan managed to stay with the leaders, and Scott and I figured that (a) he was legitimate, or (b) we'd catch back up to him later.  By the time we had paddled out of Lake Peosta Channel onto the main Mississippi, heading down to the buoy turn for the first time, Mike and Ryan had dropped Kiril and Scott and I discussed possible tactics for reeling Kiril in.

We reached the buoy and had to make the turn in heavy traffic because we'd caught up with some of the slower boats in the classes that had started before us.  After a bit of mayhem and chaos we were headed back upriver.  We worked our way up the river-right bank until we were back at the lower end of Chaplain Schmitt Island, and then we continued up the main river channel, rounding the island in a counterclockwise direction.  At this point Scott was sitting on my stern wake, and shortly after we'd passed under the Dubuque-Wisconsin Bridge, we heard an awful CRUNCH!  Scott's boat had hit something and he moaned in anguish over what the damage might be.  But he seemed to be keeping the pace just fine and I advised him to "race now, fret over equipment later."

We reached the top of the island and turned into Lake Peosta Channel.  We had just caught several C1 racers and I cut to their inside so I could catch a bit of fast-moving water that I knew about along the bank.  Scott went to their outside, and in a matter of seconds I had a four- or five-boatlength lead on him.  A minute later I was crossing the start/finish line for the first time and Scott was nowhere in my peripheral vision.  Even having caught the fast water and put a couple of boats between us, I felt that I'd dropped Scott too easily and I wondered whether he was okay.

I soldiered on without my drafting partner.  I was now in fourth place overall in the K1 Unlimited class behind Mike, Ryan, and Kiril.  There were still many boats from the other classes ahead of me and Kiril was the only one of those three I could see.  As I approached the buoy turn for the second time I saw the first two coming back upstream and Ryan was leading with Mike sitting on his wake.  Once I'd rounded the buoy myself I finally had a chance see where Scott was, but he was nowhere in sight.  Evidently he'd dropped out of the race.

No other K1 Unlimited racers were anywhere near me and I tried to paddle as efficiently as I could, keeping the boat moving while conserving energy.  The course was taxing because of the bottom drag in the many shallow sections, but I felt I could continue a solid pace for what was left of the race.  With Mike, Ryan, and Kiril all solidly ahead of me it felt as though fourth place was the way it was going to be for me.

When I crossed the start/finish line the second time there was just that island-only lap left to go--a distance of about two miles.  Scott was over on the bank rooting me on, so obviously his equipment problems had been more than just a nuisance.  It was here that I realized that I'd made up some ground on Kiril, and that maybe a third-place finish was not so farfetched for me after all.  As we made our last trip down Lake Peosta Channel I tried to pick up the pace a bit to see if I could reel Kiril in.  Then, down where this channel rejoins the main Mississippi, things got even more interesting.  There was a big mud flat here and one could choose to go either inside of it, close to the island, or outside of it.  Kiril chose to go outside.  That was the slower way to go, because of both the extra distance and the greater exposure to the Mississippi's current, but it was also the safer way because the inside route was mere inches deep in places.  I think Kiril thought he had third place in the bag and was being conservative.

I, meanwhile, had nothing to lose.  I knew the bottom was all mud in this area and there was little chance of damaging my boat, and I also knew that if I followed Kiril around the outside of the mud flat I would have almost no chance of catching him.  So inside I went.  There was one spot where my paddle blades sank in the mud, but otherwise I came through unscathed.  And once I was headed upriver along the eastern side of the island, there was Kiril just a handful of boatlengths up ahead.  The race was on.

I began to throw in surges at the rate of "10 strokes on, 20 strokes off."  It was exhausting, but I could tell that I was a little bit closer after each surge, so I stuck with it.  Finally, right as we reached the upstream end of Lake Peosta Channel, with some 600 meters to go to the finish, I was right on the left side of his stern.  He saw me as we made the turn and realized he'd better put the pedal to the metal.  He opened a boat length on me, but I knew he couldn't sprint hard for all of the remaining distance, and I worked hard to keep it close.  With maybe 200 meters to go I was back on his stern, but he threw in another hard sprint and opened a gap once again.  By the time we were within 50 meters my muscles were screaming and I knew he had me.

Back on dry land I commiserated with Scott about his having to drop out.  His rudder had taken the hit, it turned out, and it was barely functional and snagging a lot of grass to boot.  Scott was pretty philosophical about it--equipment problems are a part of any sport, after all.

Mike had taken the overall title, beating Ryan by about 20 seconds.  It was the third national title in as many days for Mr. Herbert: he and his daughter Savanna had won the C2 Standard Mixed class on Friday, and he had won the K1 ICF class yesterday.  I, meanwhile, was the top finisher in the 40-49 age group, and as a result I was given a first-place medal and a shirt that says its wearer is... a national champion!!!!  I never thought I'd see the day...

The race organizers said they will be posting the results soon.  I will link to them here whenever I find them.