We entered the community center where the TA was housed and were pleased to find our good volunteer friends Ken and Karen Maynard manning the front desk. They gave us a tour but we were disappointed to see all the good camping spots were taken – there was a veritable tent city set up behind the TA. Eventually, we found a relatively flat patch of grass near the driveway (which I unsuccessfully advocated for sleeping on), pitched our Hyperlite tent, blew up our air mats, chucked in our sleeping bags and Tom and Evan immediately went to sleep. Kit, as she had in the last TA, decided to be a diva and sleep in her own tent, and it was actually a great move, as it gave us all more room to spread out. We were all pretty shot physically and needed sleep; We decided on a 3:40 minute nap – I can’t remember why that number was so random, but it seemed like it was the most we could do without it feeling luxurious. I decided I wanted to get something hot to eat first so I went inside and made a spicy ramen cup, which hit the spot, though the water was so hot it took a while for the meal to get cool enough to eat, costing me vital minutes of shuteye. I figure I probably got 3:15 of sleep.
We all woke up at around 8 a.m. to a bustling TA. Next up for us was a via ferrata, but we first needed to watch a safety video, which we did while feasting on more ramen. Then we did the 10-minute walk to the ropes area and had a fun time making our way through an hourlong maze of ladders, bridges, and tyroleans that ran through a gorge, complete with waterfall. Via ferratas are perfect for adventure racing – exhilarating and a nice break from the other sports but not really dangerous or too physically or mentally taxing. Overall, 10/10 would recommend if you ever find yourself in Kinlochleven.
On our way back to the TA, we checked to see if either of the town’s two restaurants were open, but had no luck. So we got back and started packing up and building our bikes, slowed by both the fact that our stuff was inside the TA and our bikes were out in front, and the pesky midges (which were more of a distracting nuisance than the dreaded bloodspawn we had been warned to fear).
Finally, at around 11 a.m., we rolled out of TA and immediately found ourselves climbing a steep dirt road. We rode it for as long as we could but eventually wound up pushing our bikes, which were loaded down for what we expected could be a 24-hour push, as we had heard rumors in the TA that the final kayak section into Oban would potentially be canceled. As we climbed and climbed through a light rain, we passed dozens, then hundreds of hikers moving zombie-like down the hill in the other direction. Throughout the day, we must have passed 500 to 1,000 hikers on the trail, which was apparently a famous footpath known as the West Highland Way. I’m not sure why any of them were doing it, as I don’t think I saw a single person we passed smiling.
Eventually we came to a gravel path that rose above treeline, crisscrossed every hundred to two hundred feet by granite-lined trenches – ideal for draining the swampy high country trail of water, but suboptimal for biking, as most of them were too wide to jump over and too deep to drop down into safely while riding. So it was mostly hike-a-bike, at first with the Canadian Team Flummoxed, who we had met earlier in the year at Expedition Canada, and then alone for a bit until Tom cased his rental bike’s rear tire while trying to hop a trench and flatted. Flummoxed caught us again, helpfully lent us an extra CO2 canister, and we traveled together for a while longer. The weather cleared for a bit and we had nice views of the surrounding mountains and valleys. At one point, we passed two members of the UK Adventurers, walking their bikes backwards along the trail. We asked them what had happened and they informed us one of their teammates had dislocated his shoulder after a trench-induced fall. We had that classic AR sensation of simultaneous sympathy that another team’s journey had ended and relief that it hadn’t been us. We gave them our best wishes and continued on.
After another long period of travel along the hiking path, we made it to a major road intersection and found the other two members of the UK Adventurers there, along with vans from race organization. They had just arrived, but the team member with the shoulder dislocation was already being assisted – by chance, he had found a doctor hiking along the path who had reset the shoulder. We stopped for a moment to see if we could be of any help, but the guy with the dislocated shoulder just wanted to know from the race staff if he would be allowed to continue after calling for assistance. Looking back on the tracker, it appears as if the UK Adventurers did in fact make it to the finish, but on a short course, which must have been crushing to them, as they were on track to easily clear the full course before the accident.
We all woke up at around 8 a.m. to a bustling TA. Next up for us was a via ferrata, but we first needed to watch a safety video, which we did while feasting on more ramen. Then we did the 10-minute walk to the ropes area and had a fun time making our way through an hourlong maze of ladders, bridges, and tyroleans that ran through a gorge, complete with waterfall. Via ferratas are perfect for adventure racing – exhilarating and a nice break from the other sports but not really dangerous or too physically or mentally taxing. Overall, 10/10 would recommend if you ever find yourself in Kinlochleven.
On our way back to the TA, we checked to see if either of the town’s two restaurants were open, but had no luck. So we got back and started packing up and building our bikes, slowed by both the fact that our stuff was inside the TA and our bikes were out in front, and the pesky midges (which were more of a distracting nuisance than the dreaded bloodspawn we had been warned to fear).
Finally, at around 11 a.m., we rolled out of TA and immediately found ourselves climbing a steep dirt road. We rode it for as long as we could but eventually wound up pushing our bikes, which were loaded down for what we expected could be a 24-hour push, as we had heard rumors in the TA that the final kayak section into Oban would potentially be canceled. As we climbed and climbed through a light rain, we passed dozens, then hundreds of hikers moving zombie-like down the hill in the other direction. Throughout the day, we must have passed 500 to 1,000 hikers on the trail, which was apparently a famous footpath known as the West Highland Way. I’m not sure why any of them were doing it, as I don’t think I saw a single person we passed smiling.
Eventually we came to a gravel path that rose above treeline, crisscrossed every hundred to two hundred feet by granite-lined trenches – ideal for draining the swampy high country trail of water, but suboptimal for biking, as most of them were too wide to jump over and too deep to drop down into safely while riding. So it was mostly hike-a-bike, at first with the Canadian Team Flummoxed, who we had met earlier in the year at Expedition Canada, and then alone for a bit until Tom cased his rental bike’s rear tire while trying to hop a trench and flatted. Flummoxed caught us again, helpfully lent us an extra CO2 canister, and we traveled together for a while longer. The weather cleared for a bit and we had nice views of the surrounding mountains and valleys. At one point, we passed two members of the UK Adventurers, walking their bikes backwards along the trail. We asked them what had happened and they informed us one of their teammates had dislocated his shoulder after a trench-induced fall. We had that classic AR sensation of simultaneous sympathy that another team’s journey had ended and relief that it hadn’t been us. We gave them our best wishes and continued on.
After another long period of travel along the hiking path, we made it to a major road intersection and found the other two members of the UK Adventurers there, along with vans from race organization. They had just arrived, but the team member with the shoulder dislocation was already being assisted – by chance, he had found a doctor hiking along the path who had reset the shoulder. We stopped for a moment to see if we could be of any help, but the guy with the dislocated shoulder just wanted to know from the race staff if he would be allowed to continue after calling for assistance. Looking back on the tracker, it appears as if the UK Adventurers did in fact make it to the finish, but on a short course, which must have been crushing to them, as they were on track to easily clear the full course before the accident.
We biked for a while on a path that paralleled the main road, but with the added bonus of trenches, and then came to a roadside stop that had an appealing restaurant. We debated stopping for lunch but we were all loaded down with food and didn’t want to waste time while there were good riding conditions. So we crossed the main road, passed by an out-of-place-looking ski area then went up the “Devil’s Staircase,” a cobblestoned path that led up a steady but rideable climb. The backside (tilting downwards) was more fun but the jarring of the cobbles caused numbness in all of our hands. We pushed on and reached a marshy area bordering a river, where we caught up to an all-male team who we rode near until we reached the crossing point. We all daintily played hopscotch while shouldering our bikes across a series of stones that had been placed across the river, but the all-male team huddled for a moment before one of them shouted “3, 2, 1, go!” and another of them rode full-gas into the river, nearly making it across before falling in spectacular fashion at the crossing’s deepest point. We were all amazed at his bravado but I couldn’t stop thinking about how crushed the UK Adventurers had been just a little ways back when an injury had curtailed their race, and I took a little extra caution on the next two rock bridges we crossed to ensure I didn’t slip and get injured.
We found ourselves riding a jeep trail overlooking the swampy marshland, trying to keep a steady pace but having trouble with the deep ruts of the double-track. At one point I took my second fall of the race, and for the next five minutes, I struggled with shifting into my higher gears. I finally called for a stop and Tom ran over to take a look. He laughed when he saw I had never tightened my rear thru-axle leaving the TA and it had nearly dropped out entirely as a result of the fall. The fix was easy as it just required me screwing it in properly, but the problem could have been catastrophic if I had lost or broken my thru-axle.
Another hour further on, we had entered full-on marsh, with the trail muddy in some places and two to five inches of standing water in others. On a rocky downhill section, Kit slid out and endoed when trying to recover. It was an epic fall and it could have really injured her, but fortunately she was OK, minus some gnarly-looking scrapes on her legs. We took a few moments to destress and the all-male team caught up to us. We followed them for a bit down the path and saw them cross a river ahead, but Kit had seen a bridge on the map and so we headed for it, crunching across a couple of feet worth of reeds and bushes. After traversing along the side of the river for a while, we gave up on trying to find the bridge and found a place to cross, with Tom leading the way by jumping across some flat rocks over the deep and flowing river, then us handing our bikes over one by one to him and then following him across. We bushwhacked back up to the trail where the all-male team had gone and not more than 100 feet later, came across a sign pointing down near the way we had come reading “bridge.” It made us laugh. At this point, it started raining harder, so we stopped to put on our rain jackets. Then it really started pouring. Just in the nick of time, we saw a house emerge in the pass ahead of us and we made a beeline for it. We biked around to their garage, which was open, and the team took cover while I went over to the house to ask if we could take shelter for a few minutes. The family inside the house had seen us bike in and a man came out and gave his OK. It was a huge house in the middle of nowhere and we wondered who would choose to build such a big place in such a remote location. We snacked and put on the remaining layers we had that were still dry and, miraculously, the rain stopped. We got back underway and got a wave from the house’s main window as we rejoined the path and headed downhill, toward Loch Etive. We hit it and the clouds suddenly cleared, giving us a breathtaking view of the entire loch. This was a “holy cow Scotland is beautiful” moment. We continued along a road that rose and dropped steeply along the southern shore of the loch and finally arrived at the orienteering course at Inverawe, where we couldn’t help but notice a bunch of racers hanging out in a restaurant. We were intrigued…but good sense won out over stomachs and we went to check in at the TA first. We had two orienteering courses we could split up and conquer at the same time, so once we got our maps, we moseyed over to the restaurant to study them while also grabbing food. Tom had underpacked and we all were hankering for some real food so I ordered up a ton of sandwiches while the others got organized for the hourlong trek, studying the maps for the orienteering and the long night bike we had beyond.
We found ourselves riding a jeep trail overlooking the swampy marshland, trying to keep a steady pace but having trouble with the deep ruts of the double-track. At one point I took my second fall of the race, and for the next five minutes, I struggled with shifting into my higher gears. I finally called for a stop and Tom ran over to take a look. He laughed when he saw I had never tightened my rear thru-axle leaving the TA and it had nearly dropped out entirely as a result of the fall. The fix was easy as it just required me screwing it in properly, but the problem could have been catastrophic if I had lost or broken my thru-axle.
Another hour further on, we had entered full-on marsh, with the trail muddy in some places and two to five inches of standing water in others. On a rocky downhill section, Kit slid out and endoed when trying to recover. It was an epic fall and it could have really injured her, but fortunately she was OK, minus some gnarly-looking scrapes on her legs. We took a few moments to destress and the all-male team caught up to us. We followed them for a bit down the path and saw them cross a river ahead, but Kit had seen a bridge on the map and so we headed for it, crunching across a couple of feet worth of reeds and bushes. After traversing along the side of the river for a while, we gave up on trying to find the bridge and found a place to cross, with Tom leading the way by jumping across some flat rocks over the deep and flowing river, then us handing our bikes over one by one to him and then following him across. We bushwhacked back up to the trail where the all-male team had gone and not more than 100 feet later, came across a sign pointing down near the way we had come reading “bridge.” It made us laugh. At this point, it started raining harder, so we stopped to put on our rain jackets. Then it really started pouring. Just in the nick of time, we saw a house emerge in the pass ahead of us and we made a beeline for it. We biked around to their garage, which was open, and the team took cover while I went over to the house to ask if we could take shelter for a few minutes. The family inside the house had seen us bike in and a man came out and gave his OK. It was a huge house in the middle of nowhere and we wondered who would choose to build such a big place in such a remote location. We snacked and put on the remaining layers we had that were still dry and, miraculously, the rain stopped. We got back underway and got a wave from the house’s main window as we rejoined the path and headed downhill, toward Loch Etive. We hit it and the clouds suddenly cleared, giving us a breathtaking view of the entire loch. This was a “holy cow Scotland is beautiful” moment. We continued along a road that rose and dropped steeply along the southern shore of the loch and finally arrived at the orienteering course at Inverawe, where we couldn’t help but notice a bunch of racers hanging out in a restaurant. We were intrigued…but good sense won out over stomachs and we went to check in at the TA first. We had two orienteering courses we could split up and conquer at the same time, so once we got our maps, we moseyed over to the restaurant to study them while also grabbing food. Tom had underpacked and we all were hankering for some real food so I ordered up a ton of sandwiches while the others got organized for the hourlong trek, studying the maps for the orienteering and the long night bike we had beyond.
The family running the restaurant were working like madmen to keep up with the steady stream of orders coming from the famished adventure racers who kept trickling in. They hadn’t been warned there was a big race coming through and had run out of food, so they started carving up their family’s roast, slapping slices between bread, and calling it good. Despite the craziness, they were all in good spirits, and we tipped them well for their hospitality. Once again, though, we were beaten out by Brian Gatens and NYARA, who somehow ended up with pizza and a room to sleep in. Brian has clearly either studied “The Art of the Deal” or maybe negotiation just comes naturally to New Jersey natives.
For the orienteering course, I partnered with Tom on the long course while Evan paired with Kit. I couldn’t find my headlamp, which caused me some concern, but thankfully Kit had an extra she let me use. However, its beam wasn’t very bright, and I nearly died trying to get the first CP on the O-course, as it was at the bottom of a six-foot embankment I didn’t see until I had nearly tumbled off it. The second point was also troublesome, as it appeared to be behind a gate clearly marked as private property. We searched around the area for about 10 minutes to see if we were mistaken, but kept coming back to the gate, and finally we just decided to jump the gate and quickly found the point. From there on, things went a bit more smoothly, though Tom was moving much faster than me and eventually was kind enough to switch lights because I kept tripping and falling. This was another one of those sections I really wished we had done in the daylight, because we were passing through a forest of enormous trees – I read on an information board some were over a thousand years old. Overall, it took us about an hour and a half to clear the course, and when we got back, Kit and Evan were waiting for us in the restaurant. I had fallen so many times I felt like I had gotten beaten up. As we were packing up for the bike ride to TA 9, I found my headlight in my backpack’s chest pocket, where I had put it to make it more convenient to access. Doh!
At around 11:30 p.m., we said goodbye to the family running the restaurant and headed out across a skinny swinging footbridge, then found ourselves on some beautiful, newly paved roads. We rode for a while with Team Flummoxed, who we had also seen at several spots on the O-course, but eventually gapped them when they turned back as its started to rain heavily (apparently one of their team members had forgotten his rain pants at the O-course). As the night got later, we started eating all our best snacks and trying to keep up a steady conversation just to stay awake and alert on the bikes. Then Tom’s pedal broke and he was forced to push on a spindle until the TA, where Evan had a spare. The road was nice but constantly up and down, which actually made the ride better since we didn’t have to keep such a tight paceline. We made good progress despite the rain and eventually caught up with an all-male team that had left the O-course a good 45 minutes before us, and rode with them on and off until we finally reached TA 9 at 3:40 a.m. We walked into the TA with the tentative plan of making this a 10-minute stop but things got blurry. We were told that, as expected, the final kayaking leg was canceled and that we would be biking to the finish. Tom and Kit disappeared into the bathroom and Evan and I went outside to get Tom’s pedal replaced and put our paddle bags and bike boxes into the truck. Going back into the TA, Evan found Tom asleep in the bathroom – as usual the TA staff were prohibiting any sleeping inside the building but in his desperation, Tom had found a workaround. Evan got Tom up but then Tom got upset when he found Kit surreptitiously snoozing in a corner of the TA (she had gotten jealous of Tom). A bit of sleep-deprivation-induced acrimony and recriminations ensued but Evan said we could sleep as much as we wanted after we finished and that motivated us to continue biking.
Somehow our 10-minute TA had lasted over an hour; We left the TA near at 4:45 a.m. We had another hour of biking up and down hills through the dark but then the first rays of morning light began poking through the trees and we could see the ocean on our left. I would say it warmed us, but all warming remained on the spiritual level, as it continued to rain on and off and we started getting soaked through. Despite the weather, the ride itself was beautiful, even more so as we turned uphill and worked our way through an Irish-green highlands area. We hit CP 33 over a famous cobblestone bridge and in sight of a local pub, which looked inviting especially as the heavens opened up on us and hit us with a wall of rain. But we knew we couldn’t stop so close to the finish, and we also knew the route took us past the AirBNB our families were staying in, so we had that to look forward to. We passed by a little after 7 a.m. and had our own personal cheering squad, who let us know they would meet us at the finish with dry clothes and a ride back to the house. We waved goodbye and felt our energy surge as we knew we had less than an hour to the finish. Further improving our situation, the rain stopped. We got into a tight paceline and started pushing hard, using all our remaining energy stores, aided by paranoia about getting caught so close to the finish line. There were more steep little hills to climb than we expected or wanted but we finally got spit out into the outskirts of Oban and glided our way downhill to the water, where we saw the bright orange finish line set up on the city’s main pier. We closed in then crossed the line, greeted by James Thurlow and our cheering crowd of family members. As is usually the case with crossing the line of an expedition race, a feeling of immense satisfaction washed over us. We were done.
For the orienteering course, I partnered with Tom on the long course while Evan paired with Kit. I couldn’t find my headlamp, which caused me some concern, but thankfully Kit had an extra she let me use. However, its beam wasn’t very bright, and I nearly died trying to get the first CP on the O-course, as it was at the bottom of a six-foot embankment I didn’t see until I had nearly tumbled off it. The second point was also troublesome, as it appeared to be behind a gate clearly marked as private property. We searched around the area for about 10 minutes to see if we were mistaken, but kept coming back to the gate, and finally we just decided to jump the gate and quickly found the point. From there on, things went a bit more smoothly, though Tom was moving much faster than me and eventually was kind enough to switch lights because I kept tripping and falling. This was another one of those sections I really wished we had done in the daylight, because we were passing through a forest of enormous trees – I read on an information board some were over a thousand years old. Overall, it took us about an hour and a half to clear the course, and when we got back, Kit and Evan were waiting for us in the restaurant. I had fallen so many times I felt like I had gotten beaten up. As we were packing up for the bike ride to TA 9, I found my headlight in my backpack’s chest pocket, where I had put it to make it more convenient to access. Doh!
At around 11:30 p.m., we said goodbye to the family running the restaurant and headed out across a skinny swinging footbridge, then found ourselves on some beautiful, newly paved roads. We rode for a while with Team Flummoxed, who we had also seen at several spots on the O-course, but eventually gapped them when they turned back as its started to rain heavily (apparently one of their team members had forgotten his rain pants at the O-course). As the night got later, we started eating all our best snacks and trying to keep up a steady conversation just to stay awake and alert on the bikes. Then Tom’s pedal broke and he was forced to push on a spindle until the TA, where Evan had a spare. The road was nice but constantly up and down, which actually made the ride better since we didn’t have to keep such a tight paceline. We made good progress despite the rain and eventually caught up with an all-male team that had left the O-course a good 45 minutes before us, and rode with them on and off until we finally reached TA 9 at 3:40 a.m. We walked into the TA with the tentative plan of making this a 10-minute stop but things got blurry. We were told that, as expected, the final kayaking leg was canceled and that we would be biking to the finish. Tom and Kit disappeared into the bathroom and Evan and I went outside to get Tom’s pedal replaced and put our paddle bags and bike boxes into the truck. Going back into the TA, Evan found Tom asleep in the bathroom – as usual the TA staff were prohibiting any sleeping inside the building but in his desperation, Tom had found a workaround. Evan got Tom up but then Tom got upset when he found Kit surreptitiously snoozing in a corner of the TA (she had gotten jealous of Tom). A bit of sleep-deprivation-induced acrimony and recriminations ensued but Evan said we could sleep as much as we wanted after we finished and that motivated us to continue biking.
Somehow our 10-minute TA had lasted over an hour; We left the TA near at 4:45 a.m. We had another hour of biking up and down hills through the dark but then the first rays of morning light began poking through the trees and we could see the ocean on our left. I would say it warmed us, but all warming remained on the spiritual level, as it continued to rain on and off and we started getting soaked through. Despite the weather, the ride itself was beautiful, even more so as we turned uphill and worked our way through an Irish-green highlands area. We hit CP 33 over a famous cobblestone bridge and in sight of a local pub, which looked inviting especially as the heavens opened up on us and hit us with a wall of rain. But we knew we couldn’t stop so close to the finish, and we also knew the route took us past the AirBNB our families were staying in, so we had that to look forward to. We passed by a little after 7 a.m. and had our own personal cheering squad, who let us know they would meet us at the finish with dry clothes and a ride back to the house. We waved goodbye and felt our energy surge as we knew we had less than an hour to the finish. Further improving our situation, the rain stopped. We got into a tight paceline and started pushing hard, using all our remaining energy stores, aided by paranoia about getting caught so close to the finish line. There were more steep little hills to climb than we expected or wanted but we finally got spit out into the outskirts of Oban and glided our way downhill to the water, where we saw the bright orange finish line set up on the city’s main pier. We closed in then crossed the line, greeted by James Thurlow and our cheering crowd of family members. As is usually the case with crossing the line of an expedition race, a feeling of immense satisfaction washed over us. We were done.
The post-race experience was a further blur, but we were lucky in that we had a experienced and knowledgeable crew helping us out in the form of Kate, Emily, Ashley, and Amanda. I can’t tell you how good it feels to be able to shower and fall asleep less than an hour after finishing an expedition race with the knowledge that all your gear is being cleaned and sorted while you rest. I hope that’s my experience for all my future expedition races!
The awards dinner was a fun affair but I always find I don’t have any energy left to party, and so we bailed before the electric accordionist made it too deep into what I heard later was a virtuosic performance of AC/DC’s greatest hits. The next day, we caravanned backed to Edinburgh, where we all had gotten hotel rooms, and we got lucky with a last-minute reservation at a swanky restaurant downtown. It was an extra bonus to check out the city, especially during its famed Fringe Festival, though there were huge piles of trash everywhere we later found out was due to a garbagemen’s strike. The flight home was as smooth as could be, except for the Martins, who knowingly and intentionally attempted to flout international skylaw by sneaking a banana from the plane into the United States of America. It took them two hours of intense questioning to liberate themselves from TSA lock-up for that one – not the greatest for them considering they were traveling with two young kids.
But questionable U.S. law enforcement activity aside, our trip to Scotland was overwhelmingly positive. I had gone into the trip and the race lacking my usual level of motivation. It felt so fun to be on a family trip, and then I spent two days ignoring them while packing and prepping for the race. And then I boarded a ferry and sailed away from them for another five days. Then I was a worthless husk of a human being for two days after the race. Somehow, likely with the help of our amazing extended Strong Machine family who all came on the trip, they managed to have fun, even though I’m sure it was tough for Kate not to be racing herself. As for myself, I kept trying to dislike Scotland and find an excuse to mentally tap out of the race, but that darn place is so beautiful and welcoming I just couldn’t help myself but love it. The course design was marvelous and gave us such a good feel for the country. The stages were all challenging but none was soul-destroying, and the variety was fantastic, especially with four paddling legs, though it was disappointing that several were shortened or canceled. The RDs and volunteers were great, and the fellow teams we shared the course with were all gracious and fun.
Most importantly, and the biggest reason I continue to look back so fondly on ITERA 2022, were my three extraordinary teammates in this race and our larger SM squad. We never had a moment of disagreement or frustration with each other, we raced smoothly and (mostly) efficiently and never had any big lows. We made really smart decisions before and during the race, and we stuck to our plan and never got distracted by other teams or external factors. We took good care of each other and lived the mantra, “Assume good intentions.” And we had a ton of fun along the way.
This race represents an important building block for us, one we’ll have in our memory banks as a great baseline of success as we continue to try to race harder, faster, and better. I’m so proud to be a part of the amazing team we’ve built together at Strong Machine Adventure Racing.
The awards dinner was a fun affair but I always find I don’t have any energy left to party, and so we bailed before the electric accordionist made it too deep into what I heard later was a virtuosic performance of AC/DC’s greatest hits. The next day, we caravanned backed to Edinburgh, where we all had gotten hotel rooms, and we got lucky with a last-minute reservation at a swanky restaurant downtown. It was an extra bonus to check out the city, especially during its famed Fringe Festival, though there were huge piles of trash everywhere we later found out was due to a garbagemen’s strike. The flight home was as smooth as could be, except for the Martins, who knowingly and intentionally attempted to flout international skylaw by sneaking a banana from the plane into the United States of America. It took them two hours of intense questioning to liberate themselves from TSA lock-up for that one – not the greatest for them considering they were traveling with two young kids.
But questionable U.S. law enforcement activity aside, our trip to Scotland was overwhelmingly positive. I had gone into the trip and the race lacking my usual level of motivation. It felt so fun to be on a family trip, and then I spent two days ignoring them while packing and prepping for the race. And then I boarded a ferry and sailed away from them for another five days. Then I was a worthless husk of a human being for two days after the race. Somehow, likely with the help of our amazing extended Strong Machine family who all came on the trip, they managed to have fun, even though I’m sure it was tough for Kate not to be racing herself. As for myself, I kept trying to dislike Scotland and find an excuse to mentally tap out of the race, but that darn place is so beautiful and welcoming I just couldn’t help myself but love it. The course design was marvelous and gave us such a good feel for the country. The stages were all challenging but none was soul-destroying, and the variety was fantastic, especially with four paddling legs, though it was disappointing that several were shortened or canceled. The RDs and volunteers were great, and the fellow teams we shared the course with were all gracious and fun.
Most importantly, and the biggest reason I continue to look back so fondly on ITERA 2022, were my three extraordinary teammates in this race and our larger SM squad. We never had a moment of disagreement or frustration with each other, we raced smoothly and (mostly) efficiently and never had any big lows. We made really smart decisions before and during the race, and we stuck to our plan and never got distracted by other teams or external factors. We took good care of each other and lived the mantra, “Assume good intentions.” And we had a ton of fun along the way.
This race represents an important building block for us, one we’ll have in our memory banks as a great baseline of success as we continue to try to race harder, faster, and better. I’m so proud to be a part of the amazing team we’ve built together at Strong Machine Adventure Racing.
