The drive from Memphis to western North Carolina on Friday could have been smoother. I blew out a tire in the first hour, and the traffic in the Chattanooga area was heavy and slow-moving. But I still made it in less than nine hours' time. In the last few weeks I haven't quite driven from sea to shining sea, but I've come pretty close.
I made myself comfortable in the Forest Service campground at Tsali and woke up yesterday morning feeling ready to go. Racers were gathering in the parking area just down the road from Tsali campground and I quickly found myself greeting folks I'd just shared a house with out in Oregon: Cindy Massa and Ted Burnell had come over from Chattanooga, and Will Schaet was up from Jacksonville. And the race director, Chris Hipgrave, had been out at "The Gorge," too.
Because of the mountainous terrain, Fontana Reservoir is a skinny impoundment with many "fingers" where all the various tributary streams come in. The Paddle Grapple's course would start and finish at the Tsali boat ramp, at the end of one of these fingers. Racers would paddle out of that finger and around a couple of bends to the left, loop clockwise around an island, cross a piece of open water to another island, round that island and head back into the finger to where they had started. The 6-mile course would be two laps of this circuit.
The gun went off and I found myself in hot pursuit of Laurens Willard, while off to our left a lead pack was quickly forming up consisting of Chris Hipgrave, Terry Smith, Pete Greene, and Sven Jonsson. I knew this was the train I needed to catch to have any shot at a top-five finish, and I spent the next mile throwing in sprint after sprint to advance up the series of wakes these four were trailing behind them.
After a considerable expenditure of energy I finally pulled up onto Sven's stern. Unfortunately, Sven had just dropped off the lead pack and now Chris, Terry, and Pete were pulling away from us. Needing a breather in the worst way, I settled onto Sven's stern wake and watched as the top three pulled farther and farther out of reach. It looked like I was now racing for fourth place.
I stayed put for the rest of the first lap, hoping to conserve energy for aggressive moves in the second. As we began the second lap I could see that Laurens was in sixth place, close enough behind to run us down if Sven and I didn't keep our boats moving. Once we were out of the finger and approaching the first island I moved up alongside Sven, looked ahead, and saw that we had inexplicably made up a lot of ground on the lead pack. The objective for the final couple of miles was clear: find a way to reel them in.
The lead pack moved along in single file with Chris in first, Terry in second, and Pete in third. Once again I was throwing in sprints to try to gain on them one wake at a time. After a while Sven took over and led the way with a few sprints of his own. But we never got any closer than maybe two boatlengths. Pete's stern seemed almost close enough for me to reach out and touch, but the building fatigue in my body made closing that last little gap a taller order than ever.
As the five of us headed back into the finger where the finish line awaited, I reminded myself that the lead pack's lead had seemed insurmountable late in the first lap, but now they were right there within striking distance. In other words, "it ain't over until it's over." As we rounded the last bend and the finish line came into view, I briefly debated whether I should go after Pete, who was now by himself in third place, or hang back and concentrate on holding off Sven. It hit me that I was still feeling really good even after all the wicked sprints I'd done, and there was no excuse for holding back. With about two hundred meters left I began paddling as hard as I could. I knew catching Pete was a long shot, but little by little I was closing the gap on him and I could feel myself opening one on Sven.
Chris pulled away from Terry in the last few dozen meters to win in 47 minutes, 41 seconds. Terry crossed the line just six seconds back. Despite my furious charge Pete held onto third place, clocking 48:07 to my 48:11. Sven rounded out the top five just a couple of seconds behind me. Laurens took sixth a short while later.
After the finish I learned why Sven and I had gotten back in contention: Chris, miffed at having to lead the entire first lap, stopped paddling at the beginning of the second lap, forcing either Terry or Pete to take the lead. They must not have been very cooperative because Chris was the only person I remember seeing in the lead at any time in the race.
Chris and Sven both live in the area surrounding Fontana Reservoir. Terry is from Chattanooga, Tennessee, while Pete hails from Beaufort, South Carolina. Laurens lives in Charlotte, North Carolina.
The top overall female finisher was Heather Frogge of Gainesville, Georgia. The complete results are not yet posted online, but I will link to them whenever they are.
It seems that I can always find a reason to ask "what if?" after a race; this time, I'm wondering "what if" I had been a little quicker at the start and made contact with the lead pack right away. But in general I'm happy about my fourth-place finish. This is one of those races where you have to beat out some good athletes for even a prayer of cracking the top five, and that's a big reason I decided to make the drive over for it even though I was weary of driving.
I'm also pleased with how I held up during the race. I was able to race aggressively and still have the energy for a strong finish. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised that I'm in good shape considering all the hard paddling I did while surfing out in the Columbia Gorge, but those were all "play" workouts, and I'm the stubborn regimented sort who can't quite believe that anything but a "work" workout can bring real improvement. Oh well... I turn 51 later this month, and maybe I'll dedicate my 52nd year to lightening up a little.
I spent another night at Tsali and got an early start back west this morning. I stopped at Parksville Reservoir, part of the Ocoee River, and paddled for 60 minutes. Now I'm back home at last, with my next race more than a month away. I'm glad to have some time to get settled back in at home and do some good training for what's left of the season. I've also got a mountain of chores to deal with in my non-athletic life. It's time for life to get boring again.
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