Chattajack 2017

Every few years I get excited about a race, and I just have to put it on my calendar.  The first was the General Clinton, then the DW, and last year it was the Chattajack.  To be honest, Chattajack was on the list for three years.  I liked the idea of a "gorge" race (even though I still am not sure what that means).  As a bonus, the race was after my normal racing season, AND in Chattanooga, Tennessee, which means warm weather paddling, at least compared to Michigan.  Plus, going to a race that has a different field takes all of the pressure off.  At 31 miles, I figured I wouldn't really have to train too much, and could still pull of a good race.

(Race Starting Line on Friday)

The first two years of the Chattajack quest I asked around in the family for partners, and nobody was available, or wanted to do another race at the end of the season.  This spring, I finally got Dad (Bruce) to bite with the caviet of racing OC2.  I had always wanted to race it C2 to get some exposure for marathon canoeing, but Dad wanted a break from the normal grind, and had a friend whom he thought he could borrow a boat from.  For those out of the loop, OC2 is a two-person outrigger canoe with a rudder and an "ama" or second hull that is used for stability.  These are paddled mainly on the oceans (my other outrigger canoe experience is racing the Catalina Crossing).

I decided I could take my chances in the OC2 and planned to sign up.  Signing up for the Chattajack MUST be planned.  The race has 500 spots, and fills up withing 8 hours of opening entries.  It is so cool to have a canoe (kayak/SUP/etc.) race that has that much demand.  I set my alarm for 11:50 PM to be in line at midnight to enter and got us in- succes!  I went to work the next morning at 5:30 AM, and before I could tell Dad that we made it in, he comes up to me and says "I think we are in trouble.  Your mom (Roxanne) has never been this mad at me before."  Shocked, I asked what the problem was.  Apparently, we never let Mom know that we were entering the race, and she wanted to go, too.  She didn't have a partner, or a plan, but leaving her home wasn't an option.  I rushed to the computer and quickly signed her up- spot #456- whew!

Only one person from each team has to hold the spot, and the other teammates have a month or so to fill out their registration, so we had a little bit of time for Mom to get her boat figured out.  I lobbied for C4, but Dad was well into General Clinton C4 training, and vetoed that idea.  Mom asked around trying to get a women's partner with no luck... so we all turned to Mike.  Mike had stated from the beginning he would only go to feed.  He didn't want to race that late in the season, and he hadn't followed a race in a long time, so he would be our driver and cheering captain.  However, Mom is the queen bee, so Mike relented and decided to race C2.

We finished the marathon racing season, and started to plan for the Chattajack about the beginning of October.  Dad picked up our borrowed OC2 and we had a lot of fun taking it out the first time, with all four of us rotating around in different positions.  With Dad and I racing together, we decided he would run the rudder, since I have basically no experience in ruddered boats.  I went stern and called the switches.

The thing about switching in a ruddered boat is that you don't have to steer to go straight- the rudder holds the line.  This means I was counting strokes.  Fourteen per side the first hour, then down to eleven by hour four.  I couldn't look at where we were going because then I would want to steer, and the rudder turns the boat from the end instead of around a center point, so I wasn't anticipating the swing properly.  Basically, I had to stare at Dad's shoulders the whole time, and count- which makes for boring paddling.  The training was excruiating, with almost no glide and we basically had one speed- probabably due to the older hull design.  By the time we arrived in Chattanooga, I ready to never set foot in an outrigger again.

Since we weren't sure what to expect from the Tennessee River, Mom and Mike packed two boats for the race- the V1 and Jensen 18.  They planned to paddle around the start on Friday, get a feel for the river, and then make a decision.  When we pulled into town it was sunny and 70 degrees, with fairly calm looking water.  Dad and I assembled our boat, and off we went.  Mom and Mike didn't put the bow and stern covers on in our eagerness to get to the river, and swamped within 10 minutes from the chop.  While we waited for them to dump I played with the ama adjustment to suit the conditions.  When we returned to the car, the Jensen 18 was chosen, and Mike decided to try his first race in the stern for a change of pace.  While they made adjustments to their boat, Dad and I were able to test drive a demo boat that our competition was racing.  In the small loop we did around the start, we were averaging 1 MPH faster than we did in the boat we had borrowed for the race.  This confirmed that we had a dog, but we were grateful to use it, and we hoped our talent and training shine through.

(The "marathon" racing set up- people were amazed by our handiness with Gorilla Tape)

The morning of the race went as most of the 2017 season had.  Cold. Rain. Mud.  The temperature was dropping from the 50s into the low 40s, and the rain and wind grew with each passing minute.  We put on our rain gear, did all the last minute adjustments and warmed up.  Mom and Mike took off in the first wave, and kind of missed the start, but recovered quickly.  Dad and I prepared for our turn to go.  I started to get nervous when other OC2s were caught sideways by the bridge supports.  A start with 20 marathon canoes can be chaotic, and our start had over 150 kayaks and canoes!  I didn't trust that a rudder could compensate for all of the steering problems people were having getting to the line.

The gun went off and we got out clean.  We immediately fell into a pack, with the faster design OC2s out in front.  We were probably sixth or seventh in the OC2 mixed, but hanging out in a solid pack.  After the first few miles the river had some standing waves, and Dad and I showed off our skills.  We were able to read the river and negogiate the waves and current- moving up to third place by cutting one corner!  We found a nice cruising pace that was hard, but manageable, and we cut one more corner to catch the second place.  Once on their wave, I realized it took less energy if I called the switches like in a marathon canoe, so we used the rudder less for steering, and more just to keep our tracking straight.  This made me so happy, because I finally got to go off of feel, and quit counting.

(2nd place orange canoe, us in the yellow. Picture by Shawna Herring Photography)

The second place team had more speed than we did, so we fought the whole way just to stay on their wake.  After three hours we had to take different lines at times just to get a break from riding, hoping that we would have the energy to catch the wave again, or maybe even come out ahead on a line.  The final six miles were advertised as shallow water, and realizing that our hull speed couldn't compare to the second place team, we hoped to hang on as long as we could.  We had caught two men's OC2's from working together, but we couldn't ride them because we were "different classes."  With four boats side-by-side it was playing out to be a dramatic finish.  With three miles to go, the 2nd place mixed OC2 hit a rock and knocked off their rudder.  We narrowly avoided it.  We stayed together for a little while longer, but every so often they would make a ninety degree turn and we started to pull away.  It may not be pretty, but sometimes this type of luck is what determines the race.  The two men's teams had pulled ahead when we were in the boulder field.  Dad and I felt strong, so we gave it everything we had, passing them with half a mile to go.  We sprinted down the pier and into the finish.  We had made it!

(Sprinting to the finish. Photo be Deb S Action Photo)

I didn't realize how cold I was until I went to get out of the boat.  Everything was numb, and my feet didn't work in my neoprene booties.  Volunteers helped us with the boat, and we waddled to the car where Mike and Mom were loading the Jensen 18.  They had finished first C2, and were in the top 10 across the line.  Our time ended up being faster, but not by much.  Over a hundred boats had pulled out either just prior to the race, or during the event because of the cold wet conditions.  As we had paddled, we were amazed by the number of SUP and prone paddlers in shorts and t-shirts getting soaked from the wind and rain. We were so happy to be done, knowing that many would be out there for a few more hours.  We loaded up, and headed back to the hotel to thaw.

At the awards party, we were able to see how our friends did, and congratulate our class winners.  The first place mixed OC2 had a fellow (sometimes) marathon paddler, as did the third place team, whom also passed the rudderless boat, so we were well represented.  After such a soggy, hard day, we can't wait to go back again- although this time with our own fleet of outriggers.  Chattajack 2018: the Barton/Davis crew will be back!