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