Team Indy Rootsprout
By Ryan Burke (official Rootsprout pit crew)

It was a chilly morning for mid-August but it made for great racing weather. Three fourths of the Burke family (Gabby was playing soccer) made our way to Horizon with what we thought was plenty of time before the pre-race meeting. We set up our TA and decided to check in. To our delight, we received most of our maps and instructions at that time.

Sidebar - I contend that some of the slowest hours of my life are those during the days that lead up to an adventure race. The anticipation of the race seems to make them just drag on. The shortest hours…are those that occur between when maps are handed out and when the race starts. Crimony time flies.

We had the better part of an hour to get and be ready and we were still. I don’t know how teams arrived later than us got it all done. If any of you are reading this, I’d love to have your insight.

I love races with a lot of variety, a lot of unknown, and a lot of surprise special challenges. You guys picked up right where Monty and Jay left off last week. The creativity continues to impress me.

Our pre-race suspicion of the orange & green wrist bands was confirmed. The event was divided into two different loops to spread out the field minimizing any log jams. This worked really well from our point of view.

When the “gun” went off, we opened our corresponding green envelope and quickly had to get oriented to find three specific clues before we could venture into the known sections of the race.

We overshot CP-1 but quickly recovered – a case where familiarity didn’t mean advantage. It seemed like people were coming to and from the first 5 cp’s from every direction imaginable. I assume that is because people had different courses, but I never did verify that.

We got to cp-6 about a minute after John and Erik got the ropes tied to the shuttle boats. Anytime you have to get in and out of those yellow bananas there is a high likelihood you’re going to tip too far and get wet…even in a foot of water. It’s always good to get wet early though, anything that happens to you after that, just doesn’t matter.

We popped out of the woods on the other side and quickly realized the lake was drawn a lot farther north than it was in reality. Subsequently, we aborted the southern route and went north. While on the trail we seized the opportunity to spread the gospel to some of the trail runners asking us what in the heck we were doing. (I’m optimistic we’ll see them racing next year.)

Toward the end of the quick little paddle section Tracy and Dylan decided they wanted to play with a couple of the resident pet spiders. I had to gently remind them that we were in fact still racing.

We got another stunningly coordinated green envelope with $.70 and a set of very specific instructions. “Kroger brand tuna in spring water!” Brilliant!!! Sweaty, wet, gross AR freaks diving into a grocery to get canned goods. We kept the receipt and squished our way out of the store. I didn’t bother looking around…I’m sure we were all a sight. Dylan saved the race here BTW – I dropped a quarter in the parking lot and thankfully he found it quickly. $.25 short doesn’t get you a canned product. Kim would not have accepted perishables.

After struggling to get one of the boats unlodged from a log at the Fall Creek river fjord, Erik popped out the other side and told us we could cross without the use of a banana. Thank goodness! Messing with the boats cost us several precious minutes though.

We had a quick Hammer gel on the way to CP-16, got out of the woods, and then got muddy with alphabet puzzles. Dylan grabbed letters and we placed ‘em. We raced back to the TA, got on our bikes and made quick work of the short bike section – 24 green fox elm five diamond…almost a typing exercise.

We planked our way around the parking lot like a true family - a couple of minor bobbles along the way. The scooter…that was another story. Any lead we had, quickly evaporated. When blindfolded…I assume “left” means my left. Again, thank goodness for our level headed son. “No mom, dad’s left.” We made it, and are still happily married to show for it.

I did get even right after though…I got the dart gun. It was an accident. A circus family we are not. (We did do much better than when we were shooting free throws however.)

At last the special challenge course. What a hoot it was to paddle out in the inflatable duckies, climb over a portion of the infamous cargo net pushing the boat over and kicking back. This made for some fantastic images published and not. We thoroughly enjoyed getting to watch other teams struggle as we did.

The zip line is always a thrill especially going into the water. It too provided some awesome images.

On behalf of Tracy and Dylan, great job IR Basal Shoot - Michael and Zach! Great job Planet Adventure - truly another amazing adventure! Thanks to ALL of the many volunteers. I am looking forward to repaying the favor at the Indy AR and No Skirts. See you all out there.

Urban Sprint 2009 Report
by Mike Garrison, Team Indy Rootstock

Until Saturday I had never been on a team that flat out won one of the local races. PA Urban, PA Sprint, IndyAR etc. We'd won our division a few times, but never the whole enchilada. Saturday at the 2009 PA Urban Sprint John McInnes, Sumitra Ghate and I managed to finally do it. (At least, it was a finally for me, not sure about them.)

Urban Sprint 2009 Race Comments
By Kim McNealy

James Nichols sent me an email last week when he found out I was a last-minute replacement for the Planet Adventure Urban Race. It read something like this, “I’ve seen the course” . To which I bravely/naively/stupidly replied, “Bring it”. I’m stupid, but I’m not scared.

Bring it they did.

We started out with a trail run. A miscommunication resulted in our decision to only get three of the seven controls -- which was actually not an option -- but that figures into the rest of our day. From there, we got on our bikes and rode to the paddle, navigated down the slippery rocks to the put-in, and began a short (ha!) paddle upstream to the lone checkpoint. Teams were flipping left and right as they lost their battles with the current and ended up sideways. One boat crumpled as it was forced into a position perpendicular to the current and lost the battle with a logjam. We luckily had brought the recommended daisy chains and were able to portage and drag our uncooperative plastic yellow boat up to the control and then follow Wayne’s directions to let the current assist us back to the takeout. In the process, we got to see some of the top teams -- who had, of course, gotten all of the required controls. We usually only see them from the back but today we got a little face time because of our misunderstanding.

After the paddle, we were back on the bike and we rode around the city, completing challenges. I feel it necessary to note that the order of things might not be what other racers remember. My sense of time is probably tied into my deficient (absent) sense of direction. I will try to recall it in some meaningful order, but I make no promises. We had the virtually impossible task of finding clear water bottles in a backyard swimming pool, ran around the Perry Meridian High School track, played a little golf, and went hand-over-hand in one of the slimiest retention ponds ever to rear its ugly head. Shelley slid down the bank and emerged laughing – if somewhat grossed out by the black filth that now covered her. We stopped to help a team who was viciously attacked by a log, which had effectively rendered one member’s bike useless.

At some point we carried the bike through a creek for close to twenty-seven miles (at least that’s what it felt like). Any reports that I threatened bodily harm against the race directors at this point should be considered vicious rumors.

More bike, then a zip line that ate Rachel’s hair -- don’t get me started on what a bad-ass she is. We then went back and picked up the controls we’d missed at the start, per the race director’s instructions. I was afflicted with temporary mental Tourette’s as we made our way through stinging nettles. We panted into the finish with precious minutes to spare, effectively avoiding a penalty that would have cost us our hard-earned points. Someone luckily had the forethought to bring beer and it happened to be ice-cold. There was pasta.

I am always humbled when I race. I am also always so very proud of the people I know – the ones I don’t get to see nearly often enough, but I call them friends. Many of them I only see at races so I don’t know their ages or life circumstances, but I can guess by the ages of their children as they graduate from high school and go off to college. I know many of them are going gray or are losing their hair primarily because I have the opportunity to study the backs of their heads as they bound off through the woods in front of me. During races, I am often reminded while attempting to keep up with them that the Tarahumara tribe has ninety-year old members who are prized for their abilities as they race across mountaintops – they are valued for their athletic ability as much as for their wisdom. Being at the back of the pack gives me time to make these comparisons.
The lessons I’ve learned lately are too numerous to list here but they are all things my racing friends have taught me. Wayne has told me on more than one occasion to ‘never get sideways’ in the boat or on the bike. Life offers that same lesson.

Shelley was adamant we stop and help the team with the broken bike because one of their members had pushed her up a few hills in the last Planet Adventure – despite the fact they’d never met. Race karma is a force. Reckon with it and take care of your friends (even the ones you don’t know yet.) Towards the end, she also checked the time and commented to herself that it was time to ‘suck it up’ so that we could do what we came to do – which was finish. Sucking it up and pushing to finish applies universally. McInnes has remarked that he often notices the smirks of younger riders as he stops to eat on the bike during long rides. He doesn’t know if they smirk on the return ride because they’re so far behind him. Garrison mentioned he was glad he had become severely dehydrated during training a few weeks prior to winning today, because it got him ready for the pace of the race. That which does not kill you…

I intend to race for as long as I can find someone to drag my sorry butt through the woods and drink beer with me afterwards. My hope is that once I’m done with nursing school and my children become more self-sufficient that my team has to drag me less as I have the time to train more often. For right now, it’s enough to catch glimpses of greatness and eat noodles with them afterwards. I remember being mortified as a teenager by the lumps and wrinkles of my aging parents – I remember thinking thirty had to be the end of things. I know better now and I realize they’re called ‘masters’ for a reason. Some of the people I admire most are middle-aged and I am breathless with anticipation at the thought of it as opposed to my former dread.

I feel lucky to know the people I do and they never fail to inspire me. I will do my best to catch up and keep up, but I will take what I can get because it is worth the blood, (sometimes) sweat (always) and tears (of laughter) to be in their presence -- if only for a little while. They are ‘over the hill’ only in the sense that they’ve reached the top – in front of everyone else – and are bounding down the other side with their hair (or not) flying out behind them as they set off on their next adventure.

Bring it!