Failed Expectations

I don’t sign up for things like canoe races with expectations to fail. Nor I am I one to take challenges lightly. So when I heard about the 3rd Annual Texas Winter 100k (TWO), I was excited to meet it head on. I was less excited when my paddling partner and I missed a mandatory check point time and had to pull out. When you fail, you’re only a loser if you don’t learn from the experience. This being my first paddling completion- the amount I learned was directly proportionate to how much I underestimated the race.

If you are not familiar with the Texas Winter 100k, here is a brief education… Texas, Winter, 100k is approximately 62 miles, and its on the Colorado River from Austin to Bastrop, Texas. I knew it would be cold early in the morning when it started at 05:30 a.m. I also knew the high for the day would touch near 70°. Layers with Howler Brother shirts proved to be the best technique here. In layered order I wore the Howler Brother Loggerhead long sleeve, their Aransas short sleeve, capped off with an Under Armour zip up. The combo would dry easy, wick away moisture, could be removed when the heat came in, and still keep me cool while protecting me from the sun. After the first portage 2 miles in and a quarter mile long- I had ditched the Under Armour. I was steaming just like the water was.

Joe on point

Joe, my race buddy started off in the front seat of our tamndem Native Ultimate kayak (I’ll get to that learning point in a moment). It was too dark for me to capture the spiraling colums of steam permeating across the surface as he pointed them out- but it was awesome to witness it for the first time. It’s was quite a site as we zig zagged down river.

Portage 2 - Colorado River

Zig zagging down the river doesn’t win you races! Joe and I were completely uncoordinated as a team in keeping a straight line. We got better when we switched spots, but practicing together would have helped. Even in the an adventure class you have to be able to work together if you want to make your time hacks. Eventually, we came up with our own class- the Nature Class; so named for the copious amounts of time we had to take in all the sights.

Sight seeing delirium

Before we knew it the competitor class caught up with us. So we paddled harder. Then the competitor class (did I mention they started an hour and a half after us?) completely passed us. We shouted encouragement to all the passer-bys, jovially commenting that our pace set so far back was due to a bus full of school children that careened off the Highway 183 over pass into the river. We saved all 14 precious angels in total. Hmmm, yeah.

But still we paddled on! Paddled on! Paddled on… in our anvil. At least that’s what a race official called our yak commenting, “you guys out to get extra points for paddling this anvil.” Lesson learned all yaks are not created equal. Thus, a low-in-the-water, tandem, fishing kayak does not have equal properties of a high-riding, do-not-have-to-drag-in-shallow-water canoe. I think we got out and walked a fair portion of the race. Ignorance is not an excuse, but it is motivation to get out there and do it better next time.

Anthony on point

When we made it to the Little Webberville park and race checkpoint, we knew we were done. According to race requirements we did not keep pace to continue. So we cheerfully/begrudgingly checked out (if such an emotion exists). At the end of the day it was a wonderful experience- a great learning opportunity for future padding events like the Colorado River 100, and the Texas Water Safari.

For those of you who care- the Little Webberville park checkpoint is 28 of the 62 miles into the race. Even that took us 8 hours. But, I’m going to do it again! And I will win! And I’ll be in a canoe! Paddling in a straight line! Hopefully having as much fun as Joe and I had on the first time we made this run!

Thanks Joe.

Paddle On!
Anthony