The Paddler ezine Issue 50 Autumn/Fall 2019 | Page 109

Finally, as Wednesday blurred into Thursday, after 13 hours of paddling we finally met with the welcome revival of the river current which eased us off the end of the lake to the Lower Laberge check point, where we relished the opportunity to briefly step ashore. The temperature drops quite considerably at night, so we took the opportunity to quickly eat and layer-up, and then pushed off into the night. BREATH-TAKING SCENERY The next few hours were some of the most pleasurable hours of the race. The so-called thirty-mile stretch still seemed relatively small; perhaps 30-50m wide. Through the tight meanders we enjoyed the feeling of racing along with the current, zipping past the breath-taking scenery. The cold air had developed thick patches of mist on the surface, which were strangely enjoyable to paddle through. With our persistence in overdrive, we also started catching up and overtaking a few other boats; mostly two-person canoes and the odd solo. Whilst most other vessels were typically faster paddling than us, we were fast learning the beneficial river currents, which we could see better from our standing position. And thanks to some successful overtaking efforts, we finally got that pesky safety boat off our back for a while. However, we were beginning to face another issue; Stu’s prosthetic leg was giving him problems. The relentless duration without being able to rest the socket was beginning to risk lasting damage. By early afternoon, after more than 24 hours of paddling, Stu made up his mind he wasn’t going to hold Ben and I back from completing the race ourselves. So, dismissing all military clichés about never leaving a man behind, Ben and I were reluctantly forced to leave Stu behind. After tending to his leg, Stu was able to paddle on to the next monitoring point at Little Salmon and was able to get a lift from there to Carmacks where he joined forces with our support crew. Ben and I knew we still had roughly nine hours to push hard to Carmacks. Carmacks being the first enforced stop – of seven hours – and the only place where the support crews could meet us. It was also the last real race cut-off, so we told ourselves if we could make it to Carmacks, we would make it to Dawson. Spurring me on was the thought of everyone who had supported and sponsored us in the lead up to the race. We had decided a year earlier to use this adventure not just for our own gratification, but also for a worthy cause; Great Ormond Street Hospital, raising over £10,000 raised for the charity. Then several hours before Carmacks, an unexpected vision appeared in the distance; another SUP. It didn’t take us too long to catch up and reveal it to be Paddle League/SUP Racer journalist, Chris Parker. Chris told us he had just tried to have a 10-minute power nap to combat the spiralling sleep-deprivation. The fresh company proved a welcome revitalisation for all three of us, and as a reenergised threesome we ploughed on; finally reaching the rest stop and our waiting support crews at 21.00 on the Thursday evening, 33 hours into the race. Soberingly, we weren’t even halfway at this point. But who cares; we could eat proper food, we could sleep for a few hours, and then the rest of the race would be downhill, right? (No!) ThePADDLER 109