CNYO's Second Annual "Snowgaine"
This was the second year that CNYO has put on what they have called a
"Snowgaine" on Presidents Weekend, and for the second year
in a row I've been able to convince (or perhaps just
"con") my spouse into coming along as my partner. You
probably figured it out, but a "Snowgaine" is a
"Rogaine" (you know we're not talking about the hair goo,
right?) over the snow. Thus the map is larger scale than an
orienteering map, you work as a team, and the event goes on over a
longer time period. Unfortunately, this year the title proved a bit
misleading. Open fields were almost completely snow-free. There was
white stuff in the woods, but you could hardly call it snow: it was a
3-4 inch thick crust which had been thawed and re-frozen many times,
ending up with a consistency close to that of a salt flat.
One of the interesting facets of the event is that you have your
choice of transportation mode. All human powered non-vehicular modes
of travel are OK. Thus, figuring we'd make our final equipment choices
each morning of the two day event, the back of our trusty Mitsubishi
was piled with various pairs of skis, snowshoes, and boots, not to
mention clothing, daypacks, waterpacks, rations, and goodies. Sleds
are always mentioned in the event announcement as being allowed, but
the prospect of tobogganing down Virgil Mountain has yet to appeal to
me, and I like the idea of hauling one UP the mountain even less, so
we left that at home.
Saturday dawned very cold, and by the time we got to the event center
the temperature was still only in the teens. On arrival I tested out
the "snow" surface as best I could, to determine how we
would try to move. I never even considered skis, which was how we done
the race last year. I knew there was no possible way to actually ski
up or down the mountain, and the crust made it unlikely that the grip
of any ski wax I possessed would make skiing around the undulating
plateau up behind the mountain much faster than walking. Thus the
first real choice was whether or not to bother with snowshoes. I
decided the crust was permeable enough that we didn't need the teeth
of our snowshoe bindings to get some grip for climbing. Then I figured
my studded O-shoes would be both light and gripping enough to get me
around the mountain with the least effort. And I think I was right. On
Sunday, those who had used snowshoes on Saturday left them behind.
Would that all our decisions had been so well made. The Virgil
Mountain and environs map is logically split into two halves, North
and South, by Route 392. Virgil Mountain and the Greek Peak downhill
ski area (yes, I know Virgil was a Roman, but what can you expect from
alpine skiers?) are on the South side, and an almost equally elevated
and even more undulating series of ridges and valleys rises on the
North side. Because we had had such a horrendous time trying to scale
the mountain the year before, we both felt strongly we should do that
side on Day 1, and save the somewhat less arduous climb for Day 2. As
it turned out, we were alone in this decision among all the teams. And
it was a bad one, mainly because we only slowly realized we were going
much FASTER than we anticipated.
It wasn't only us, but everyone was able to move much faster, even
carrying the snowshoes they didn't need. The snow kept you up above
the low vegetation that normally slows you down in the warmer months;
but the snow was too crusty to sink into and slow you down either. So
everyone could move pretty free and fast. Except us. We managed to get
into a couple of water traps.
While it was cold enough for the snow to be frozen, the running water
was still quite free. Attempting to cross our first major stream, a
couple of hours into Saturday, I made it with a good leap, but Sue
missed and got one boot soaked. In warmer weather you shrug this off,
accept a blister maybe, and forge on. In winter, you have to be
concerned and watchful. Crunching through the snow after that dunking,
her foot got very cold, and we decided we needed to try to come up
with some means of warming it up. Ultimately, the best thing we could
come up with was to take my hat and use it for a sock. With it, she
barely fit in her boot, but said it felt much better, and I figured
I'd sacrifice the hat if it only made her feel more like carrying on,
let alone actually improving conditions for her foot. I guess it
worked, because from there on she had no more problems. Only I
did.
Near the end of the day's travels, we had finished all we could get on
the South side, given our late understanding of what might have been,
and our halt for foot warming. Since we still had time left, it seemed
the logical thing to do was to cross over and bag a couple of controls
on the North side as we went West back to the
start/finish. Unfortunately, it turned out there was a major creek in
our way. This was not something even Ralph Boston could longjump over,
let alone me; but amazingly enough we discovered a barrel raft tied up
in the stream. Apparently locals also felt it was a major pain to have
to go the very long way around this obvious (and formerly bridged)
crossing.
Well, maybe we would have been better off without the raft. I managed
to get myself out into the stream, and it started to sink, lurch,
collapse and take me down. I was able to grab a hold of tree roots
beckoning on the other side, but each one I grabbed broke as I put any
weight on it. Eventually I did extract myself from the almost
"raging" creek water, but I was soaked 3/4 of the way
up.
After her prior creek experience, Sue was in no mood to even attempt
to improve upon my crossing. We both worked parallel upstream for a
ways, and then I figured we might as well not bother staying
completely within sight, but stay within "shouting"
distance, and meet further up ahead. I guessed I could bag the control
we had been going to together before she got back to me, and I did. I
admit this was contrary to the spirit of the rules, but I also guessed
it was likely to be immaterial, and I was right about that too. Plus
it warmed me up again, which was at least as important!
After a very long trot in along the highway, we all gathered and
compared notes. We were in 3rd after that day, but it was hard to say
how it would work out since we had approached things so differently
from the rest. And our fate wasn't really in our hands, since the
other teams had gotten all the controls on the North side, while we
had gotten several less than all on the South. And when we reversed
courses the next day, while we could replicate what others had done,
they were able to outdo us where we had been. No one else managed to
get as wet as we did, somehow, and in the end we were pushed down to
4th. At least it was some fellow EMPO folks (the Reeds) who knocked us
out of the money. We did have one major miss, costing us 30-45
minutes; but we still got everything. So it was our Day 1 pace which
ended up beating us.
They'll be doing it again next year, those CNYO folks. They are hoping
to do it up in Winona (Tug Hill), where again they have a pretty good
map. If you're looking for something unusual to do outdoors next
Winter, try to save Presidents weekend. You don't have to be an ace
skier to be quite competitive. But carry an extra pair of dry
socks. It can make a big difference.
-Phil Hawkes-Teeter
