Ultra Marathon Paddling: 100 KM Length of the Lake, 2007

100 KM Length of the Lake...

an Ultra Marathon Paddle Race from Vernon BC to Penticton BC

Heather and Brandon standing in front of the giant peach --- the official finish line for the Length of the Lake.

Any race, in retrospect, can be critiqued, sworn at and sworn off. This happens in particular when the chafe is still raw, the muscles still whimper for relief, and the duffel bag that you brought to carry home all the shwag, trophies and ribbons is as empty as Ventura Avenue on Yom Kippur.

But occasionally a race comes along that, as a whole, transcends the mere components that make it up, and at its worst still somehow becomes one of the most quality weekends any racer will experience. The Length of the Lake is this type of race.

This year, nearly 20 NW Washington paddlers, both single- and double-bladers, made the journey north to Vernon, BC, on the shores of Lake Okanagan, for the 8th annual, 100K, 5-leg grind affectionately and ironically known as the “LOL.” We had an OC-1 relay team, both men’s and women’s OC-2 relay teams, two different men’s surfski relay teams, the first ever women’s surfski relay team, two ironman surfski paddlers, two little blonde girls on bicycles, one swaddled baby boy and a partridge in a pear tree. We all showed up with hopes of nuclear tail winds, blue skies, and glory. And we were all in for a surprise on race day!

Swirling, bruise-colored clouds filled the sky at the 7 a.m. start, and by mile 6 into the 9 mile leg, we were fighting a stiff headwind and 2 ½ foot wind waves that had OCs huli-ing and connective tissue already aching. Ma Nature wasted no time in telling the field, “You’re gonna have to earn it today, boys and girls!”

After the exchange at CP1, egos and tendons had time to begin healing (unless you were iron-ing the race) as teams traded paddlers for drivers and migrated on to the next checkpoint. This “paddle-drive-paddle” is in large part what makes the race so unique, do-able for many, kid-friendly, and downright fun! I’ve always loved crewing for Heather when she was adventure racing full time, and as part of an LOL relay team, you get to do both: crew AND race!

Heather and I both ironed it last year, (Heather beating me by 1 minute after my infamous quote at the starting line, “In a race this long, a few minutes one way or another doesn’t mean a thing!”), but with Heather 4 ½ months pregnant and me wanting one more good single-blade workout before Molokai next weekend, we were both on relay teams this year.

To the likely dismay of every paddle on the water, the chilly headwinds and sidewinds kept up throughout the first four legs, testing the will and fortitude of every one of us. My partner, Edoh, and I found ourselves playing leapfrog with the women’s surfski team; they’d inch ahead, then we’d inch ahead, then them again…

Make no mistake, the LOL is very much an ultra. It’s got a lot more going on beyond just paddling: comfort, calories, mind games, pain management, the works. Heather and I both use the race as a barometer of our fitness, a late-season test piece and training run – not to mention a wildly memorable day with friends. Tailwind, headwind or dead flat, if you and your team make it from start to finish of the LOL, you’ve done something significant. The race has its quirks, but they’re vastly outweighed by the simple, epic nature of going long and hard on a gorgeous, temperamental body of water. And that’s why, no matter what the year-to-year weather happens to throw at us, or whether we bring home a ribbon or just blisters, we’ll be back to race the LOL again and again and again.

Back to the irony: by the fifth and final leg, the wind had finally clocked around and was blowing from behind. Paddlers ahead of us had 3-foot-plus waves to ride straight to the finish – the type of surfing that magically erases from one’s mind the hours of battling into the earlier waves. Both Heather and I would be paddling leg 5 for our respective teams. With a three minute lead over Heather’s teammate, I took the handoff from Edoh and began cranking for home. I linked wave after wave and had long runs with my OC1 cruising at or above 8 mph. I visualized the finish coming swiftly into view.

But within 20 minutes, here was Heather, cruising casually by in the passing lane. It seemed then like I’d only blinked, and she was 10 more boat lengths ahead. I surfed on, smiling, the waves getting bigger with the increased fetch, my body feeling surprisingly good after the day’s 35 hard, cold, rainy miles.

This would not be my year – again – to come in ahead of my wife. I watched from a quarter mile out as she landed and ran up the sand through the cheering crowd to kiss the peach. Three minutes later, feeling nothing but pure stoke and appreciation for an epic day, I did the same.

The next morning we woke, and looked out over the lake. Not a cloud marred the perfect blue sky. And from the north, from over the finish line, past 100 km of water we’d just paddled, from over the start line and beyond, blew the north wind we’d all showed up dreaming about. Ahh, irony.