Triathlon, WV Style

I just remembered today to check the date on Captain Thurmond's Triathlon, an annual event in Fayetteville that combines mountain biking, whitewater paddling, and trail running. It's on Sunday, June 10th this year, in case you're interested.

I don't remember how I ran across this event last year (my blog replaces the need for a memory), but when I did, there was no question about it. I hadn't paddled the section of the New River where the race would take place, and the one thing I always hated about triathlons was the pavement. I figured entering would give me a good reason to train for a fun event, but most compelling was the goal of running some new water.

I'm not one to take an event like this and just show up, race, and go home. For some reason (my guess is to blame my parents), I emailed everybody I know who might be interested in doing the race solo or as part of a team, reserved a group campsite for a group of twenty, and even booked a rafting trip the day after the race. So, it had something for everyone, and we filled that campsite.

A couple of good antecdotal stories were generated by the weekend, including . . .

(1) My posts to several whitewater paddling community message boards went generally unnoticed, aside from one particular paddler, who responded and committed right away. His name is Geoff Calhoun, and at the time he was an internationally ranked wildwater paddler (I'm not sure if he's still ranked, but if he's not it's because he has been out with an injury since summer). This is kind of like organizing a pick-up game of football, opening it to general invitation, and Payton Manning showing up. I immediately contacted the fastest runner I know (James Gordish) and the fastest mountain bikers I know (Marty McKeon, Justin Leidy, Max Kellogg). James and Max took the bait, and with Geoff, they swept the event by miles.

Follow-up to (1): As a math guy, I didn't appreciate that the winning team got $200 cash. I mean, doesn't everybody know that 200 is not divisible by 3???

(2) This format is fantastic, but it's a peculiar race for another reason. I'd give the bike section a grade of B. Twelve miles is kind of short, especially since there are no memorable climbs, and only a few good descents. No tough, technical sections. Lots of double (or more) track means lots of jockeying for position. There's not much one can do in the design of the kayak section other than where you put in and take out, so the boating section receives a well deserved A, thanks to a couple hundred thousand years of hydrology.

The run, however, is a different story. I can understand the desire to have the running section end in Fayetteville so that they can set up a grandstand, local businesses will benefit, etc. And, I can understand that a trail network may present some constraints, but this was by far the toughest running I've ever done. At one point, I looked over to my left, and there was a ladder -- A LADDER!!! -- in place for assistance. Running seldom requires hands, but my palms were dirty after this race. Water stops? Not in West Virginia! (ok, so they had two, one after 1/2 mile, and one at mile 7).

Naturally, I give the run section an A+.

(3) Burch fell out of the raft and landed on a rock. Good thing Burch could probably shrug off close-range buck shot.

(4) We camped at a place called Chestnut Creek campground, which would be a super-fantastic place if it weren't for the most anal retentive man in six states running the joint. His name is Brian and he actually has a policy whereby if your firepit is not cold to the touch at daybreak, you lose your campfire privileges. How absurd!! The guy actually gets up at 5 am to drive around in his golf cart, stopping at each campsite, crouching over, and feeling the coals from last night's fire. My brother Marc thought it would be funny to pee on the fire, but I told him that was cruel (sike; it was the other way around).

I later found out that Brian has his rules posted in the stalls in the women's bathroom, presumably for bathroom reading, and that he actually goes into the women's bathroom to check how clean it is without knocking first. Someday, Brian is going to get a right hook when he walks in.

(5) Mark Burns is apparently a Clydesdale, which is not something that anybody would like publicized. (Sorry, Mark, but there are only two people who read this, anyway, so it's not like it's out there).

(6) As mentioned before, logistics are a nightmare with this race. You have to go to the pre-race meeting in Fayetteville to get your number, get your boat to Cunard (way, way back on small mountain roads), get your running stuff to Fayette Station (way, way back on small one-way country roads), and get you and your bike to Thurmond (way, way, way back on country roads). This is easily two hours of driving, and the pre-race meeting is 2 hours before the start of the race. This is a race where it pays to have spectators (aka, running shoe holders).

Git 'r Dun.