GODZone
Merrell in the Godzone trar-thlon
Press Release / 03.03.2018
"Whut’s thus then? A trar-thlon?” I jumped because I hadn’t seen him coming. Possibly the workings of his full camouflage gear. We’d been warned about the rednecks down south but this one took me by surprise as I made my coffee in the morning darkness, having seen the team off on The Big Leg. The Transition Area was in a big field with many cars, stacks of bike boxes and gear bags, all interspersed with dead or sleeping bodies carelessly strewn about.
“It’s Godzone.” I said, because everyone in New Zealand knows the event. Except him. So I explained further, in essence; “adventure race, non-stop 550km, teams came in here on their bikes and left on foot with their packrafts for a three day leg”
“It’s a Trar-thlon” he translated for his mate and then for me; “We’s gunna hunt.”
“Well don’t shoot them” I said. “They’re the ones with torches and backpacks.”
“Nah. We’s going un ther” he indicated the thick forest behind with what I assume was a condescending wink, although I was blinded in his headlamp. I didn't try to explain GODZone Adventure any further.
This was, by all accounts a lightweight hillbilly. Further down teams may encounter the species that takes a few bottles of whisky and a rifle away for a weekend in the bush.
By contrast the Merrell team’s Friday night was largely spent investigating a few unnecessary forestry roads before getting to TA2 where they got a few hours sleep.
Teams never lay blame or point a finger at someone who has made a mistake - the unspoken rule of working as a unit through these extreme experiences. But earlier, arriving at their first transition after a long paddle, three of them couldn’t wait to blurt out that ‘someone’ had fallen off his raft in an eddy. Someone the most experienced. Apparently ‘someone’ used up his full daily quota of swear words in a very short time.
At the end of the first leg, 29 hours after the start gun had sent them on their merry way, Stefan said “Well, we’ve got through the first one. It was like ten half Ironmans all put together.” With Tweet trying in vain to hurry them along, the others packed for the next leg, happy to see their bikes and be rolling up the packrafts for a while. They boiled water for their Back Country Cuisinemeals – Jane Swarbreck claiming Veg Stirfry to be her favourite so far - put on sunscreen and did all the general faffing that seems so very essential during a transition.
Stefan Terblanche did all this in his Speedo, causing much excitement amongst the female staff. Medics later claimed it was the closest they had come to being called into action all day.
An interlude on the biking was a navigation through the Clifden Caving system that was allocated an enforced two hours – that long to prevent teams from racing recklessly through them and that short to make sure they didn’t bed down in there. It took most teams an hour and they used the rest of the time to lie in the hot sun after the fast flowing streams and icy pools inside. These limestone caves are the perfect habitat for glow worms – the larvae of small flies that produce light to attract prey which is caught in sticky silk threads that hand from the nest. (This bonus fact is of no interest to adventure racers trying to find a checkpoint but waiting media have the time and opportunity to read information brochures)
So with the multiple dark zones, the field was once again bunched up at the front this morning. For them it has been like a stage race so far and they will be trotting through the bush on fresh legs with clear minds. But, the organisers warn, mistakes will be costly and this crux leg should provide interesting viewing, especially of the mid to back end of the pack and expect to see a disarray of dots. Merrell is marching on. We hope to see their dot moving steadily. It’s all we will see of them for a couple of days. The rain has finally started to fall. And its been holding out for so long there’s a bit of a backlog that might want to come down. So send your well wishes and warm hugs, they will be looking out for some comfort.
During their long trar-thlon.
SleepMonsters
