Seventy48 Race Report
Six months out from an event almost everything seems like a good idea… As the weeks and months got closer to the Seventy48 kayak race this good idea turned into the realization that Vicki and I needed to train as much as possible with an already overflowing schedule leading up to the June race. In April we started hitting the water twice a week whenever possible and had one kayak training session of seven miles and figured that had to be enough to try our luck on the course ahead of us.
In May we were able to visit Center Valley Animal Rescue with Hudson, Kalea, and Kristin along to meet the staff and see the work that they do rescuing both domestic and wild animals. During the visit we discovered that approximately 90% of their animals are from law enforcement situations where the animals are confiscated for abuse issues for relocation and rehabilitation. Having a cause that we are raising funds and awareness for always seems to make a significant difference in how I approach these monumental events in my life and this was no exception. Hearing Vicki’s story of her rescuing her horse four years prior and spending the time with him to bring him back to health and a full life is inspiring. Through this process I also made the connection to how many of the confiscated animals are taken during raids that also include human trafficking situations and other abuse. The human condition and circumstances that cause people to abuse each other and undervalue life seem to carry through multiple situations. Unfortunately, hurt people hurt those around them and I continue to hope and pray for the healing of those abused as well as those that abuse and are in need of being presented with a better way of living and engaging in the world. Back to the kayak…
On Friday, June 6th Vicki and I left Port Angeles just after noon with her husband Jack giving us a ride down to the Foss Waterway Seaport near Tacoma, Washington. We checked in around 4pm and got all of our race gear including a tracker and sticker for our kayaks and began loading up all the gear in our ocean-going kayaks, mine being about 16 feet long. After packing our kayaks with about 60 pounds of gear including four gallons of water for the two days at sea, sleeping bags, food, extra clothes and safety gear we were almost ready to hit the water. As I picked up my kayak with the help of Jack I realized just how heavy the kayak had become fully loaded and a flash of fear ran over me having never loaded my kayak with gear and so many questions flooding my mind. Will the kayak be stable, will it be lower in the water or move slower. We loaded the kayaks to the edge of the docks and waited until 20 minutes from the start time when we would need to get into the boats and head to the race start.
After saying goodbye to Jack and getting our last bit of food and restroom stops before entering the water Vicki and I headed to the docks. We put Vicki’s kayak in first and lowered it almost 3 feet to the water and she successfully climbed in and tucked in her spray skirt and was all set to go. I went to my kayak and had a bystander help me lower my kayak to the water and positioned myself on the pedals and tuck in the spray skirt and see how it felt in the water. To my relief with the extra weight, I felt more stable and as I began the short trek to the start line it didn’t seem to affect my speed at all either. At the start line we took a few photos, and I made a few last calls to my family and at 7pm sharp we were off with the other 100 or so kayakers on our journey 70 miles away to the shores of Port Townsend.
The first night was about as calm as you could ask for. We slowly churned out the miles at about 15 minutes per mile as shown on my Coros multisport watch. We went through the evening near the shoreline, passed by the boat that all kayakers needed to loop by and then crossed our first open section of a few miles across the main waterway. By that point we were about a dozen miles into the journey and the evening was starting to set in. We made our first pit stop on shore to grab a few supplies from our bins and put on our night lights with the bright white light to guide us and the blinking red and green lights on each side to let other vessels know which direction we were facing. From there we glided on the calm evening water a few hours past midnight and made our way to Blake Island at the 20-mile mark where many of the kayakers called it a night and camped out for a few hours before hitting the water again. We pulled out kayaks up the beach to a safe zone and then found a camping spot about a hundred yards up and set up our sleeping pad and bag and got a few hours of shut eye on this exceptionally warm June evening.
We woke up just after 6am and took our time getting back on the water at just after 8am. The first hour went smoothly but as the morning wore on the wind picked up a bit and the tide and current seemed to be pushing against us steadily. We crossed a few ferry lanes taking effort to ensure we were as far away from passing ferries as possible and well aware of when the wakes from the ferries would catch up with our tiny vessels. We made our way to Port Madison Bay which is about a 4-mile crossing and noticed that many of the racers were posted up on the shoreline and waiting out the moderate weather until it calmed down a bit later in the afternoon. Vicki and I decided to continue on and pushed across the Bay. Our efforts which I would have described as a 4/10 and allowing us to average about 15 minutes per mile turned to about an 8/10 effort and our mile times slowed to about 25 minutes per mile as we made our way across. It was exhausting, a bit unnerving and took a lot out of both of us. As we finally pushed through to the other side we began looking for a gentle shoreline where we could land our kayaks without tearing them up on the rocks. After two miles of hugging the shoreline and praying for reprieve we found a place to land.
The sandy beaches a few miles short of Kingston served us well as a place to lick our wounds and regain our composure. It was about 3pm by this time and we had covered about 15 miles and were about as close to that 1,000 yard stair as I like to be in an event. We unloaded our gear to dry much of it out and ate a half bag of chips and a half dozen other snacks before rolling out our sleeping bags and taking a nap until the wind and waves would give us a reprieve from the onslaught. As the evening rolled in the weather was calm, and we loaded up our kayaks again and resumed our course up the shores. We were now halfway through the 48-hour race and just over half the distance.
The next 5 hours was another calm and magical time on the water. We made our way past the Kingston ferry which left another large wake that thankfully just added a bit of texture to the water rather than rattle us too much. From there it was a straight shot up the coastline to Hansville and the Point, no point lighthouse. We arrived at the lighthouse and the 50-mile mark right around midnight and took a little break to get into our gear and stretch out our legs. A few racers were camping for the night there, but we decided to muster out a few more miles. We got back into the kayaks and made our way slowly along the coastline in lake-like water which was like skimming across glass. Within about an hour I began to fade right as Vicki was hitting her stride. With a long open crossing ahead of us we decided to call it a night and found a sandy beach where we could pull up our kayaks and sleep a little way up the shore, still on the sand but away from the water. We slept from about 2am – 4:30am and then loaded up our kayaks again. I’m about as peppy as can be in the mornings so I had to temper my enthusiasm and give Vicki time for her coffee to kick in that she brewed up for both of us on her small little camper stove.
Thankfully, Sunday morning was much calmer than Saturday. We made short work of the next few miles and then made the journey across Admiralty inlet which is about a 3 mile open stretch where you have the opportunity to look back and see the Hood Canal floating bridge. After crossing the inlet we took our time through Oak Bay and hugged the coastline on our way to the Port Townsend Canal. There was a period where it felt like we were getting pulled out to the main channel so to alleviate this we made the choice to aim to the far shore which likely added close to half a mile to the journey while reducing the anxiety of fighting some unknown current and trying to figure out where the current is pushing you.
When we arrived at the Canal we took one last break on the shoreline to grab supplies and use the facilities at the public area there. Walking to the road area there were these incredible tidepools with crabs, small fish, clams shooting up their waterspouts and beaming with life. For the final time we got into our kayaks and made our way through the canal, now less than 6 miles from our destination at Port Townsend. The canal was calm and as we entered Port Townsend harbor the water was welcoming and the sun was rising above us getting warmer as the day progressed. The last push to the coast was so enjoyable and the fatigue and body aches from the multiple sessions on the water seemed to melt away.
We had one last ferry crossing and we watched the Port Townsend Ferry make its way into the harbor and then depart and we worked our way behind it, again feeling the water surge and rolling with the wake it left behind. As we passed by the ferry terminal we could begin to hear the cheers of the finish line just off in the distance. With a last steady push we made our way to shore to reach volunteers, our families and a well-earned celebration meal at Hudson’s, a local seafood restaurant. We came in at around 9:48am just under 39 hours and with plenty of time to spare.
I am so grateful that we only had one section where we dealt with adversity with the tides and the weather. I kept thinking in my head that I could do another stretch like that if it was the same in Port Townsend harbor which I could have, but it would have taken a toll on my spirit and would have brought this experience into the struggle zone as opposed to the absolutely enjoyable experience on the water with a good friend raising funds and awareness for an amazing cause.
