Due to the giant task of planning for our trip to Ireland for ITERA the following week, neither Kate nor Cliff had thought much about the 2016 Bitter Pill until about 2 p.m. on Friday, Aug. 6, when Kate picked Cliff up early from work and we headed south on I-95 towards our eventual destination of Bolton Valley, Vermont. Our teammate, Grey Brooks, however, had definitely been thinking about the race, considering it would be his first ever adventure race. He had asked a few tentative questions via text or Facebook, but Kate and Cliff had mostly brushed him off, busy as they were building bike boxes, making reservations for bike boxes on Aer Lingus, learning how to disassemble our bikes and place them in bike boxes, and trying to calm Starker as he failed at building his bike box.
Arriving at the race HQ at the Bolton Valley Ski Resort around 6 p.m., the team checked in and got a thorough gear check, then had our picture taken (we loved Grey’s perfectly chosen t-shirt). We headed back to the house of our friends Chris and Sarah, who fortuitously live about 20 minutes away from the race start (and who we stayed with during GMARA’s winter race, the Frigid Infliction, in March). The visit had the added bonus of allowing us to meet their new son, Cy, now 8 weeks old and an absolute cutie. We made and ate some pasta, watched the opening ceremony of the Olympics while catching up, and set our alarms for 3 a.m. in order to make the departure of the buses at 4:05. Seemingly moments after falling asleep, our alarms scared us awake and we choked down some coffee and Clif bars before jumping in the car and heading over to Bolton Valley. Upon arrival, we soon learned that instead of the expected two buses, there was only one, and RDs Chris and Shawn seemed really worried they might not even be able to get their race started, but I don’t think anybody minded jumping in their own cars and driving to the start, with the promise that volunteers would shuttle their cars back for them. We ended up on the one available bus, as there was extra room, and so we didn’t have to worry any of that. We chatted merrily for the 20 minute bus ride and then offloaded in the middle of a field by a school. No water in sight, but after Chris told us in the race briefing that we would start with a canoe leg, we began to sense a large portage was in our near future.
Arriving at the race HQ at the Bolton Valley Ski Resort around 6 p.m., the team checked in and got a thorough gear check, then had our picture taken (we loved Grey’s perfectly chosen t-shirt). We headed back to the house of our friends Chris and Sarah, who fortuitously live about 20 minutes away from the race start (and who we stayed with during GMARA’s winter race, the Frigid Infliction, in March). The visit had the added bonus of allowing us to meet their new son, Cy, now 8 weeks old and an absolute cutie. We made and ate some pasta, watched the opening ceremony of the Olympics while catching up, and set our alarms for 3 a.m. in order to make the departure of the buses at 4:05. Seemingly moments after falling asleep, our alarms scared us awake and we choked down some coffee and Clif bars before jumping in the car and heading over to Bolton Valley. Upon arrival, we soon learned that instead of the expected two buses, there was only one, and RDs Chris and Shawn seemed really worried they might not even be able to get their race started, but I don’t think anybody minded jumping in their own cars and driving to the start, with the promise that volunteers would shuttle their cars back for them. We ended up on the one available bus, as there was extra room, and so we didn’t have to worry any of that. We chatted merrily for the 20 minute bus ride and then offloaded in the middle of a field by a school. No water in sight, but after Chris told us in the race briefing that we would start with a canoe leg, we began to sense a large portage was in our near future.
Sure enough, Chris guided us around the back of the school and there sat a whole mess of canoes and kayaks. He yelled “Go!” at 5:10 and Grey and Cliff saddled the canoe while Kate guided them up a hill, across a short section of shoulder-high grass and down to a road, which led to the put-in about a kilometer away. Alternating between carrying the boat the traditional style and mounting it upside-down on our heads (causing no minor subsequent neck pain for Cliff), we made it to the water in about 7th place overall.
We had decided to bring two kayak paddles despite the warning that we would have to carry them the whole race, and we think it was worth it, as we made good time. Cliff got stuck with a canoe paddle that was too big for him, but just as his complaining reached Gilbert Gottfried-levels of annoyance to his teammates, another team capsized just in front of us in shallow water. They recovered quickly, but the spill slowed them down enough for us to come side-by-side. The guy sitting in the back of the other team’s boat happened to be about 6’8”, and he was more than willing to trade his relatively small paddle for Cliff’s enormous one.
Down the river we went, picking up one CP by some fishermen under a bridge, then another a few more KMs downstream. The teams started to spread out around here, but we caught glimpses of Pete Spagnoli’s team and of Chafing the Dream ahead of us.
Down the river we went, picking up one CP by some fishermen under a bridge, then another a few more KMs downstream. The teams started to spread out around here, but we caught glimpses of Pete Spagnoli’s team and of Chafing the Dream ahead of us.
About halfway through the 15k paddle, we saw RD Chris again and we knew from Kate’s warnings that we had a long portage ahead. What she didn’t know (or wisely didn’t say) was that the portage was straight uphill, with at least 200 feet of vertical, but Grey used his beast-like strength and pretty much singlehandedly pulled the canoe all the way up the hill. Cliff took over at the top (he’s really useful like that) and used his expertise at doing easy things to propel the canoe down the steep slope and back toward the river. We got back in the boat and congratulated ourselves on a pretty fast portage.
The remainder of the paddle took us through some riffles and a few more significant rapids, adding some excitement to our morning. The weather was perfect and the sunrise was beautiful, and Grey kept exclaiming how much fun he was having (Kate and Cliff figured we’d best keep quiet and let Grey think all adventure racing was this fun). One or two final CPs and we hit the take-out, we believe in about 6th or 7th place.
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We had a relatively quick transition to our bikes and started on a road bike that led across a bridge over the river and then ended at a dirt road that we knew led straight uphill. Kate didn’t hesitate and started charging up it, and Grey wasn’t far behind, despite riding a heavy, full-suspension rental bike from Outdoor Gear Exchange, the race’s title sponsor and our friend Chris’ (not RD Chris) employer of record.
We worked our way uphill, trading places with an all-male team wearing neon-green shirts, picking up a CP on the way to the top. Near a place marked Bolton Notch, we struggled for a few minutes in finding our turnoff from the road onto what was supposed to be a mountain bike trail. We rode a bit too far then turned around, and not more than a minute later Kate lifted an arm off her bike to point out the hidden trailhead. In her excitement, she twisted her handlebars accidentally and the rapid change of direction pitched her into the air, corkscrewing beautifully in the air like a Johnny Moseley dinner roll before landing on her side and rolling gracefully in what looked like a professional-grade stunt. Grey and Cliff were pretty sure she had at least broken her collarbone, but Kate jumped up and shrugged them off, telling them she was just fine. Later, Cliff and Kate both admitted thinking only one thing as Kate was in the air: NO INJURIES BEFORE ITERA!
Jumbled in a big group with our friends and Maine compatriots Shelley and Dave from Scrambled Legs and Aching and the Raid International Gaspesie guys, along with one or two other teams, we forced our way up a steep snowmobile track nearby Bolton Notch for a long ways until we hit a ridge, then paralleled it, picking up points along the way. Hit the top of the ridge and got a sweet ride down the back side into Bolton Valley. The transition area was hot and we were out of water, but thankfully, the GMARA guys had a gallon waiting for each team, accompanied by the signature smell of bacon we’ve gotten quickly accustomed to finding at GMARA TAs (Kate and Cliff are pescatarians and can’t/don’t eat bacon, but man was Grey happy for the salty meat hit). Tried to transition quickly and headed out after about 10 minutes at the same time as Shelley and Dave. We ran up the road and started chatting, then ducked into a stream to grab CP 13. Only one problem: it wasn’t there. At least not where we thought it should be. We continued up the stream, then checked a tributary, then went back downstream, all to no avail. We split up from Dave and Shelley and went upstream again, past some pretty steep sections and really inviting swimming holes, all the way up to the road. Still no CP, and by this time we’d wasted at least 45 minutes. So much for our flawless race.
At this point, we were closer to CP 12 then wherever CP 13 could be, so we headed up a road and then ducked into the reentrant, finding the point quickly and restoring some of Kate’s confidence. We then made the risky decision of heading straight south to CP 17, up about 800 feet of vertical and walking at least 2 km through increasingly thick underbrush. We were looking for a ridge, and after what felt like a long climb (about 40 minutes) and few worried checks of the map, we stumbled right into it, then started combing it for CP 16, which was “visible from ridge.” It took us another 10 minutes, but Kate saw it (she saw most of our CPs first during this race, which is a bit unusual for her) and Cliff went to tag it, only to fall waist-deep into a huge hole that had been covered by a layer of leaves. Another brain-flash of “DON’T GET HURT FOR ITERA” hit us, but fortunately Cliff was fine. We punched and started working our way back uphill towards CP 15, which we thought would be easy from where we were. We were wrong. Another 45 minutes to an hour of searching for the point, the clue for which was “boulder puzzle.” I swear we checked every boulder within a mile-wide radius, but clearly we missed one, as other teams were able to find this point (but curiously, many struggled with CP 16).
Jumbled in a big group with our friends and Maine compatriots Shelley and Dave from Scrambled Legs and Aching and the Raid International Gaspesie guys, along with one or two other teams, we forced our way up a steep snowmobile track nearby Bolton Notch for a long ways until we hit a ridge, then paralleled it, picking up points along the way. Hit the top of the ridge and got a sweet ride down the back side into Bolton Valley. The transition area was hot and we were out of water, but thankfully, the GMARA guys had a gallon waiting for each team, accompanied by the signature smell of bacon we’ve gotten quickly accustomed to finding at GMARA TAs (Kate and Cliff are pescatarians and can’t/don’t eat bacon, but man was Grey happy for the salty meat hit). Tried to transition quickly and headed out after about 10 minutes at the same time as Shelley and Dave. We ran up the road and started chatting, then ducked into a stream to grab CP 13. Only one problem: it wasn’t there. At least not where we thought it should be. We continued up the stream, then checked a tributary, then went back downstream, all to no avail. We split up from Dave and Shelley and went upstream again, past some pretty steep sections and really inviting swimming holes, all the way up to the road. Still no CP, and by this time we’d wasted at least 45 minutes. So much for our flawless race.
At this point, we were closer to CP 12 then wherever CP 13 could be, so we headed up a road and then ducked into the reentrant, finding the point quickly and restoring some of Kate’s confidence. We then made the risky decision of heading straight south to CP 17, up about 800 feet of vertical and walking at least 2 km through increasingly thick underbrush. We were looking for a ridge, and after what felt like a long climb (about 40 minutes) and few worried checks of the map, we stumbled right into it, then started combing it for CP 16, which was “visible from ridge.” It took us another 10 minutes, but Kate saw it (she saw most of our CPs first during this race, which is a bit unusual for her) and Cliff went to tag it, only to fall waist-deep into a huge hole that had been covered by a layer of leaves. Another brain-flash of “DON’T GET HURT FOR ITERA” hit us, but fortunately Cliff was fine. We punched and started working our way back uphill towards CP 15, which we thought would be easy from where we were. We were wrong. Another 45 minutes to an hour of searching for the point, the clue for which was “boulder puzzle.” I swear we checked every boulder within a mile-wide radius, but clearly we missed one, as other teams were able to find this point (but curiously, many struggled with CP 16).
The decision to bail on the point was a tough one, but was probably our smartest decision of the race, as we were able to hit CP 17 and then CP 14 on our way down. At this point, after not seeing a team for a couple of hours, we ran into what felt like 50 people all descending from somewhere above us, and we chatted about our success (or lack thereof) on the O-course. They said they had found CP 13 and it was indeed on the creek where we had been searching, which meant it had to be a little downstream of where we had started out looking for it. It was now 3:50, and the race directions warned racers to be back at the TA by 4 p.m., but the race had started 10 minutes late and we decided to make one more pass at CP 13 before returning to our bikes for the climb up to the Bolton Ski Area and the finish line. We hit the creek from the south and boulder-hopped our way along until we saw the pesky orange and white flag hanging just south of where we had started our search. BUGGER!
Running back down the road to the TA, we got in a few minutes after 4 p.m., tried to transition quickly once again, though repacking all the paddling gear, including two paddles and a PFD each into our bags impeded that task. Kate and Cliff were pretty familiar with the remainder of what lay in front of us as it reused some of the course from the 2016 Frigid Infliction: a 3-4 kilometer climb up to the ski area with a whole lot of elevation gain. Biking it took a lot less time than snowshoeing it had in the winter. Grey, as he had done all race long, was super-solid and led us up most of the way, smiling the whole time and spouting on about “how awesome this has been!” Kate took a more work(wo)manlike approach, hunching over her handlebars like a rider in Triplets of Belleville, and riding practically every uphill. We got both CPs on the way up, crested our last little rise and then had a flat pedal into the last hill up to the finish, which we reached at 4:45 - 25 minutes to spare before the 5:10 cutoff.
Running back down the road to the TA, we got in a few minutes after 4 p.m., tried to transition quickly once again, though repacking all the paddling gear, including two paddles and a PFD each into our bags impeded that task. Kate and Cliff were pretty familiar with the remainder of what lay in front of us as it reused some of the course from the 2016 Frigid Infliction: a 3-4 kilometer climb up to the ski area with a whole lot of elevation gain. Biking it took a lot less time than snowshoeing it had in the winter. Grey, as he had done all race long, was super-solid and led us up most of the way, smiling the whole time and spouting on about “how awesome this has been!” Kate took a more work(wo)manlike approach, hunching over her handlebars like a rider in Triplets of Belleville, and riding practically every uphill. We got both CPs on the way up, crested our last little rise and then had a flat pedal into the last hill up to the finish, which we reached at 4:45 - 25 minutes to spare before the 5:10 cutoff.
While we were a little upset we hadn’t looked a little longer for CP 15, we were also pretty relieved not to have had a dash to beat the cutoff like we had in Cradle of Liberty or Stubborn Mule (race report still needs to be written for that one). However, we soon were distracted from all thoughts of the race by a massive pile of nachos and guac and the amazing (and amazingly free) keg of Green State Lager from the local craft brewery Zero Gravity Brewing. We settled into food and great conversation with our growing circle of Northeast AR friends, and then split up to devour the Mexican-themed feast, finishing our last bites as the award ceremony started. It was announced that Chafing the Dream cleared the course and was the top team overall (we're signing up for orienteering lessons from them if they ever want to offer). As expected, Rugged Road took first in the co-ed elite division (they are incredibly fast) and we settled for another second place. Which is pretty easy to do if it’s a GMARA race, because second place meant we received a sweet backpack filled with goodies like socks, shoe dryers and a jug of Vermont peanut butter. Another highlight was that Grey was in the middle of getting a massage as our team name was called out, and we had to signal to the masseuse to stop her work and get Grey’s attention …pretty funny stuff.
Anyways, a short race report because we’re headed to Ireland tomorrow for ITERA (we did not get hurt at Bitter Pill, despite our best efforts). Once again, GMARA impresses with their organizational abilities (just check out the results page for proof), innovative course design and dedication to keeping the AR scene in New England alive and thriving! We’ll see you in March - and I think Grey may be there with us, as he seemed to love his first-ever AR.
