Nov 21, 2002:
This past weekend, I had the opportunity to dabble in a new skill – orienteering. I traveled through beautiful North Texas, just northwest of Pottsboro to the Texoma Lutheran Camp. The drive was gorgeous; the Texas fall had turned the leaves to beautiful, incandescent hues of velvety red, burnt orange and amber yellow. As the western sun cast the last few glowing rays onto the trees, the leaves danced on fire in the wind. One by one, the leaves released hold of the branches to make their slow spiraled descent to the ground.
The change in season brings the chance for me to do other things besides adventure races. What is this new sport of orienteering that has caught my interest? In short, you use a compass and a map provided at the start of your race to find designated control points (checkpoints). The object is to find all the checkpoints within an allotted time, and if you are skilled or lucky enough to be the fastest, you are the winner! Like every sport, there are various courses for various levels, differing in both difficulty (placement of the checkpoints) and length (how far apart and how many you must find). All courses (levels) run simultaneously, making for an interesting mix of feet and people rustling around in the woods together.
One year ago, I came to this meet as a beginner with a few friends, my sister and my nephew, and my son, Daniel. We all did the beginner map-hike, which is non-competitive. I was hooked then, but seemingly not as much as my sister. She rushed to the Wal-Mart in neighboring Denison that night to buy 5 headlamps for her family so they could participate in the night-O (the same crazy race done at night!).
And here I am one year later, with only two other meets under my belt, letting Miki Snell (who recently received a bronze medal at the National Championships) talk me into doing the RED course (the longest and most difficult course at Texoma). Am I crazy? Am I stupid? No time to ask or answer such questions. Besides, I know I will not back out of my decision no matter how dumb it seems anyway. John and Marcy Beard show up as late entries at the race, giving me some awesome competition, but more importantly, friendly faces that I know and respect. Since they will be starting behind me, I figure if I get lost, I will just follow them in after they pass me.
As we board the boat for our ride to the “advanced” start across the cove, the brisk air blowing across my face awakens me. The sun warms the start area, and my body is cozy now. I discuss the first clue on our clue sheet with John and Marcy. The clue is “The middle spur”. They throw out some guesses to me of where this spur could be, and that maybe if it is near the water’s edge of the lake, that it might be faster to run the shoreline rather than take a direct route through the dense woods. These are all things you must consider when selecting your route to each checkpoint. Not only must you know how to use your compass and read the map, but you must also be good at route selection (or point of attack). “As the crow flies” is always shorter, but if you get stopped by dense trees, marsh or other obstacles, then sometimes other alternate routes are better choices.
My start time is near, and my lack of experience begins to show. Fortunately for me, my lack of experience also keeps too many things from running through my head. I stand behind the start line, having just cleared and checked my electronic finger punch. This is a first for me; an electronic punch worn on your finger enables you to stick your punch into the reader at each checkpoint. The finger punch records your time splits between points, total time, and tracks whether you punch in the right order. It is also possible to miss-punch, which means you might find a checkpoint, but if it is not yours (it’s on another course or you have found it out of order) and if you assume it is yours and punch, you will get disqualified.
The official says, “Go!” and John and Marcy send me off up the hill with so much cheering and enthusiasm, that I sprint ahead of the other runner only to have to stop at the top of the hill to get into another boxed off area. We are at the map area (for lack of the proper terminology), where we receive our maps. The whistle is blown, and I am now allowed into the box, I grab my map (but no peaking!), and I wait for the next whistle.
The thing I am thinking now is, “This map is HUGE!!!!”
The next whistle blows, I punch my finger into the start box, and I’m off for 5 steps…just far enough to take a deep breath and calm myself, remembering Miki’s last advice, “Take your time, control your leg speed; I know you have plenty of that, but always know where you are on the map.”
Thoughts enter my head, “You’ll do good, just take your time. Hold the thumb compass like this (this is my first time to use this crazy tool). Make sure the thick red directional lines are lined up with north on your map. Don’t make the 180-degree mistake of lining up with south instead. Look for handrails.”
I stare at the map, not believing my eyes. The first checkpoint is 1600-1800 meters away. I’ve never run to a checkpoint further than 500 meters on one bearing. All these thoughts run through my head in a span of about 10 seconds. And I am off, running in the direction of the water…the last advice that had entered my head from John and Marcy, and the first thing my brain acts on in my random-access memory.
In retrospect, the lake was out of the way and not the most direct route. Running along the shore, I see footprints and think, “Ah ha! Someone else is as tricky as me.” But Alas! The footprints end at an impassable cliff where I am faced with either a cold swim around the cliff or retracing my steps back to a point where I can climb up the cliff and into the woods. I choose the dry route. Once in the trees, atop the cliff, I take a new bearing to the checkpoint, because at least now I know where I am. As I run to checkpoint #1, I pass a marker. I check the number, and it is #2. I think to myself how easy it will be to get this checkpoint now, that is assuming I can find these particular woods again. Finding checkpoint #1 proves to be an adventure for me and takes me 27 minutes. At the time, I have no clue if this is slow or fast. Had I known how much slower I was by taking my route choice along the water (10 minutes slower than Marcy), my spirit might have been crushed. But I forge on, remembering that I know exactly where #2 is.
And I find #2 quickly, giving me a quick split time, and the confidence to start shooting bearings to each point and stop worrying about handrails (major objects like paths, roads, fences or creeks used to get to a checkpoint). Instead, I start taking direct routes through the woods and staying on my compass bearing.
I don’t think I can express in words how much fun I have just running through the woods, rustling through the leaves, hitting checkpoint after checkpoint. If I wasn’t hooked on the sport before, I swallowed hook, line and sinker this time. My sister could be so good at this sport; she is an engineer like Marcy – a natural. They just methodically click away at things in such an organized fashion.
The CPA in me comes out, and the last 9 black and white checkpoints fade to a gray area that I am unable to deal with at checkpoint #10. Enter an “unknown map feature” – an odd-looking black horseshoe object at the end of a deep ravine that I am traveling in. I don’t recognize this object, and I assume it must be a horseshoe shaped building or shack. Where did I dream that up? Turns out it is two rock faces at the top of the ravine.
I decide I am not where I think I am on the map, and I place myself somewhere else when I pop out in a sunny meadow searching for the horseshoe building. I go in circles in this meadow several times. I spend some time hanging out in the sun in the meadow to help some ROTC students who are lost on their course, and then some luck from above is sent, and I see young Robbie Paddock darting out of the woods where I’m assuming my checkpoint must be. I adjust where I think I must be on the map, and I head into the woods in the direction the checkpoint should be. And there it is!
Back on course, I get progressively better. I now have a sense of belonging as I run through the woods, darting in and out of the trees…one step to the left means I must come back one step to the right. Always focusing on a tree as far as I can see ahead, I get better at running faster around the branches and obstacles in my way. My last few points come and go within minutes of each other. Marcy finishes 16 minutes ahead of me, but I am relishing my personal victory of finishing the course in 2 hours and 2 minutes. The time limit was three hours, and I am happy to have not timed out.
Sunday’s race is a chase, and I must start 16 minutes back, in second place, chasing Marcy. When Marcy takes off, John points out the direction she has taken. When I start and pick up my map, it takes me a minute to place it in a zip lock bag. After studying point #1, I see it is in the opposite direction that Marcy went, and I think I might have a chance to make up some time. Little do I know she has corrected her mistake within a minute, and she has already doubled back through the cemetery on a more accurate course.
I have a great day again chasing her. #1-6 go by quickly, and before I know it, I am looking at the dreaded point #7. Like yesterday, it is another long one of 1500-1800 meters away. I go out of the way and take the road for most of the way then cut back into the trail when I am within 300 meters. There is a small footpath that I think I will take, but when I get there, it is not there. So, I take a bearing and run up toward the top of the hill (the clue sheet says the top of the hill). Once I go 300 meters, there is no checkpoint, and I can see more hill going up. There are two other men at the same spot, so like a FOOL, I get caught up in the competition, and instead of looking around some more where I think it should be, I dash to the top of the next hill. When I can’t find it there, I dash to the top of one more hill. Well, 44 minutes later, when I realize I have run off my map by seeing a huge pond that is not even on the map, I eventually find my point by going back where I started. It is right back at the top of the first hill, hidden just off to the left and I have overlooked it. It takes me walking around in circles for 3 or 4 times on this hill and falling in a hole that I don’t see before I find it!
Marcy went on to beat me by 25 minutes on day 2, about the amount of time I went over on my horrendous point #7. Add that to my 16-minute deficit on day 1, and I got a 41-minute spanking. Will I be back? You bet! Not because I like to lose, but I because I thrive on the mastery of sports. I just read an article by Phil Domenico on Mastering Orienteering. He is right on! “There are three levels you can participate in any sport. You can dabble, you can obsess, or you can master. Going for mastery means more than dabbling, more balanced and less intense than obsessing, yet demanding time, consistency, and practice.” That is me, in any sport I work at!
Stats:
Marcy won 1st place in the Women’s Division on the Red Course, and I was 2nd behind here; there were no other women in the Red category.
John finished 2nd in the Men’s 35+ category on the Red course.
Miki finished first place on the Brown course.
Racer D 
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