I have shared this kayak trip in a previous blog, but I am currently taking a Creative Writing Class from the University of Alaska - Fairbanks, and I had an assignment to write about something that had challenged me. This is the story re-told and hopefully with improved English.
Water bubbles over the rocks as it continues its snaking journey across the Arizona terrain, deep within the desert landscape better suited for cactus than a rushing river. Water, the key to life and the center of a topography that is abundant with life that calls the Gila River home. The key to life can also be a link to death. This journey settles into the rippling flow of a river that stretches 649 rugged miles within New Mexico and Arizona. I can hear the sound of life as we drag our kayaks to the edge of the water. The kayaks scrap and scratch across the barren sandbank and slightly slip into the liquid highway as the shore ends and the adventure begins. The wildlife echo sounds of life beyond our visual realm, but they are there, at home in this somewhat harsh climate. I was not to be part of this scene, this experience, this moment. Billy had asked for car support along the 15-mile stretch between Hayden and Kearny, Arizona as he wanted to kayak this section. He is an experienced river kayaker and has a very secure, safe, sit-on-top kayak. I would not be so fortunate in the mode of travel that did find me on the Gila. This was a lake kayak with an open seating area (no spray skirt).
Billy and I had met through a 24-hour mountain bike race near Tucson, Arizona. The connecting piece was an inquiry on Facebook for adventurous people with type 1 diabetes who wanted to form a team that would tackle the undulating cactus-studded hillsides north of town. Team No Limits would include the two of us along with Kent and Olivia. All of us possessing a nonworking pancreas, a factor that would make challenges like this a bit more challenging for the riders with a chronic disease.
The phone had rung a day before the Gila River trip, and Billy had an offer or shall we call it a proposal. He had located a second kayak, and we could now insert me into a seat. My mind swirled temporarily, but he reassured me that he had run a nearby section to our proposed section and it was an easy section. Sit back, float and enjoy the wildlife was the vision in my mind. I had a background in sea kayaking and the thought of sitting back and floating sounding appealing. I had also had a rough experience during solo kayaking on the ocean in Alaska. Mild stuff for most people who have spent sufficient time in a kayak, but I had a deep, searing fear of water. Do not ask me to go swimming unless you have a life jacket I can adorn. Well, not quite that extreme, but a pure liquid environment does little for my confidence level.
A few photos and videos were captured as we stroke our paddle forward then back, propelling us gently in a westward direction with a higher than usual current thrusting us from the back.
The calendar shouted for short sleeve shirts and shorts as the calendar turns placed us just in front of the simmering heat of the summer. We were looking toward a perfect day to enjoy the river as it took us to new places and memorable experiences.
Video of the Journey Below:
I hear my GoPro scrap and thud against a floating landmine of logs and branches as I thrust the kayak directly into the tangled and twisted mess. There is a small waterfall a few feet from us; the GoPro splashes into the water. Thankfully, I had connected safety lines to the camera, my gear, food, and medical supply bag. A quick session on the water and we decided to run the short drop as we lacked an adequate route to go around the hole of turmoil. A quick bump and drag and we were back on a river that took on a serene, peaceful, quiet tone.
Subtlety, the Gila began to change its nature as we continued to our take-out point. It was still a relaxing time on the river, and I enjoyed a different kind of adventure tucked into a life brimming with an outdoor lifestyle and many excursions that often challenged me but have also blessed me greatly. I was not going to let diabetes stop me from living life to the fullest. Billy has the same mindset.
We were approximately five miles into a journey that would end after fifteen miles in the town of Hayden, Arizona. The subtle changes notched up a few levels as the river would narrow at points, exposing the tumbled shoreline of fallen logs and brush. I began to piece the equation together realizing that if I got caught amidst the minefields the force of the water against me and the debris would cause me to capsize. Was I ready for this? I did not have much choice as our vehicle was another ten miles downriver and there was little access to a major road. The safety of my many ocean kayaking expeditions with others within a few strokes of you, in case of trouble, was lacking on this trip. Billy and I tried to stay close together, but as I followed his lead, I was slower and was sometimes getting caught in some minor issues with the river causing distant to separate us. I no longer had ‘support’ as I lost sight of Billy and I was unable to squeeze through a narrow patch in the river that was free of brush and logs, and I temporarily found myself pinned to a log, my head was swirling as I tried to prepare myself for what was about to happen.
The boat began to tip, and my heart leaped as I plunged under the kayak and into a dark scene that had me disoriented and slightly panicky as I now had to claw my way to the surface and keep the boat and oar within my grasp. A few underlining bullet points on my ‘Dave This Could Be A Serious Moment’ list:
1. I had my insulin pump attached to my shorts. This vital piece of medical equipment keeps me alive and helps maintain proper blood sugars. It is not waterproof. Would it continue to function?
2. My contacts allow me to see well and to avoid as much debris zones in the river as I can. Would they come out as I opened my eyes underwater to gauge where I was?
3. On one of the plunges, I had trouble coming to the surface as I was snagged below the surface in a battle with debris that had entangled me.
4. I had numerous cameras to capture the adventure, and a number of them were not waterproof.
When I came to the surface, the ordeal was not quite over as I floated down the river with an upside down kayak and an unsure opinion of whether I had everything with me and that everything was staying dry and still working. Next up was getting to the shore and the monumental task of dragging, pushing a kayak full of water up the angled shoreline so that I could empty its contents to prepare for the next plunge.
I would experience the underside of the boat seven times.
By number seven, I had not seen Billy for over an hour. Billy has an easy going nature and was likely not too concerned about the status of the red kayak and its occupant. He had tried to reach me on the phone, but it was nestled deep within a layer of waterproofing, and I did not get to it in time. We finally chatted, and he assured me that he would wait for me at the take-out point.
At one point we had reconvened briefly, and we promptly picked the wrong branch of the river to float. It was a side branch and embedded with an overwhelming amount of everything that you do not want to have to take a kayak through. I took another plunge into the river, but this time I had assistance from Billy on a problematic shore to free a kayak engorged with water. I did not know how I would pull the kayak up one more beach and flip the kayak. During an epic moment, I had accidentally broken one of the carrying handles. It was now more difficult to flip, and I was seriously tired, and the nerves were firing.
I would be tested one last time as I chose the wrong channel to travel. The kayak and I once again bobbed along as the scenery passed, ever slowly. I will say that by this point I had gotten much more comfortable in a rather unusual circumstance that found me in and out of the womb of water. Even with the risen current, the Gila River in this section is not a deep river. I was able to stand most of the time with a rare occurrence of toes not dabbling on the rocky bottom.
While getting more accustomed, I was ready to call it a day. Thankfully the day had not called my name. Number seven was a rare spot on the map as there was a picnic area where I had taken on more water than I cared. The sound of a truck rumbling down the dirt track and parking right in front of me was an emotional stirring of relief and a hint of joy as I kindly and wearily asked for a ride.
We rolled out of Pittsburgh, Kansas on September 25th. Despite the photo of Rog at the Missouri border sign with a rather flat, boring landscape in the background, the terrain would quickly become more interesting, hills would erupt out of the plains and the fall season began to tap our shoulders.
When I have been involved in the Race Across America (a bicycle race from Oceanside, California to Annapolis, Maryland) I am always amazed as the route zigzags through the flat-as-the-eye-can-see cornfield dense terrain of Kansas and we cross the border into Fort Scott, Missouri the hills greet you with a smile. Almost exactly at the border the climbing begins.
Missouri was a changing point:
* change in topography
* change in scenery
* change in attitude (at least that is what my journal is revealing)
The journey finds us in a city park that I have failed to identify. I did tag Jim, Greg1, Greg2, Chris, Kathleen, Polleen, and Susie who are also pedaling through the Show Me State. Five of the group are cycling and two are supporting them via a sag wagon. They are riding for the homeless and are getting a lot of press. We do some chatting and occasional pedaling with the group in the Fairgrove, Missouri region. Noted in said journal was that this may have been the toughest day. Our new friends showed little mercy in regards to carrying no packs/bags and we had our gear buckled in for the whole ride, weighing too much, especially as we pedaled like demons to keep up.
Hills are now frequent and in mass numbers. They are short, thank goodness, but are steep. Would rather have a long, heinous Colorado pass right now. The Ozarks are calling our name. Or are at least laughing at us. It is beautiful and we are stoked. Emminence, MO would offer a wonderful setting and the Rayfield hotel would knock us back, only $13.
My back, for the first time, was beginning to hurt, at times. As shared from the beginning of this adventure I had severely injured my back two weeks before the trip. I could not even ride my bike as the days counted down to the circled day on the calendar (August 31). I would straddle the bike and head east, until Missouri, I had not had a hint of pain or discomfort. No horror stories of intense agony and suffering will greet the reader on this blog. i had serious concern but it would be a non-issue. The pain and physical therapist would surprisingly say hello after the trip. More on that later.
Roger’s journal shares another strong glimpse of life on the back roads of America and the generosity of humans. We had arrived in Fairfield and Roger states that we were wondering about two things. Where do we stay, and what do we eat? An older woman begins to speak to him and eventually she connects us with Dan & Betty who take two travelers into their stead.
Rog also makes a special note on our $13 hotel deal. He reveals that it is a ‘nice hotel’.
My blood sugar has taken a turn for the better.
People are finally turning around their opening comments from the mention that we have a long ways to go to the updated version that we have come a long ways.
A night at Johnson’s State Park and more fog has surrounded or cycling world. We are now leaving the Ozarks and are leaving a tremendous time in Missouri. On to Illinois.
A regular stop in life is to swing by the gas station to feed the vehicle with petrol to continue with needed errands, work, and escaping the city. I pull alongside the gas pump and wait. A worker walks up my car and I hand him my credit card. This is not Arizona, or Colorado, or Idaho and no, please don’t let it be New Jersey! The only other state that does not allow you to pump your own fuel is Oregon.
Yes, as I have been reminded by a cute note from a co-worker, I am now an Oregonian.
Many things needed to happen for me to be in the unique position to not be able to pump my own gas. I had been unemployed and seeking for the next door to go through (or window to leap through). After a lengthy time with no bites on zillions (ok, a lot) of job applications I was dealing with some challenges and some serious lack of funds.
When it rains it pours, comes to mind as I had two job opportunities hit the radar within a few days of each other. One would involve a flight to Kalispell, Montana for interviews with the three top people at Hammer Nutrition and the other would unfold with additional questions and a phone interview for the Director of Tourism position with The Dalles Area Chamber of Commerce in Oregon.
They do not pump your gas in Montana, so as you can gather, I now call The Dalles home and I love it!
The trip to Montana went very well and I felt solid about the time there and the interviews but I feel that I connected with the job and the right location for me
in accepting the job in The Dalles.
Already, I have tales to tell and photos and videos to share of my new playground which sits in the Columbia Gorge. More to come…
I have been very fortunate to have many opportunities to share my life as a person with type 1 diabetes. I was honored to be featured on the Beyond Type 1 website.
I titled my story ‘My Fearless Approach to Type 1’ and you can read it here: https://beyondtype1.org/my-fearless-approach-to-type-1/
and they have also posted it in Spanish: es.beyondtype1.org/mi-valiente-enfoque-para...1/dave-nevins-1/
If you have Type 1 Diabetes and would like to share your story you can submit a story to Beyond Type 1. Here is information on doing this:
Life has taken me to The Dalles, Oregon and I am a bit behind on sharing a few pages of a life that has provided much in the way of adventure, travel, challenges, and some humor along the way. I am now the Director of Tourism for The Dalles, Oregon, employed by The Dalles Area Chamber of Commerce. I am loving it here and I look forward to sharing more about my new playground in the Columbia River Gorge.
On my evening run through the Arizona desert last night I had a number of wildlife encounters. Expected during the summer season and remarkably common during my runs on my local trail route. I would encounter two Western Diamondback Rattlesnakes this evening which gives me almost as many sightings as all of last year (a record year for me). It is still June with about four months of watching where I step and hearing the occasional rattle, jingling while I sort out how close I am to the snake.
Of the many assorted and interesting critters I experience while I take in the desert environment, the most often seen, in this order are deer, rabbits and you guessed it, rattlesnakes. Twenty one at last count for the Spring and Early Summer season. Getting rather close to the number that welcomed me on my runs last year.
I love wildlife encounters and, well, snake encounters are a not quite a love affair but I do take on a trail runner crazy enough to run through the desert in the summer time, will trek through snake territory and will have a few meet and greet sessions with other inhabitants toting a rattle. It is their home and I do respect that simple fact.
Do rattlesnake's give my heart a jolt? No, but there is a bump in the heart rate when I take a quick dodge to the left or right to avoid a snake. They can blend in very well to the desert floor but I have had to become great with those scaly senses.
Very, very thankful that of all the creatures on the planet, the rattlesnake rates high on the list of animals that let you know of its presence. A beautiful fact and one of the reasons I have an admiration for the scaly and sometimes noisy, scary creatures of horror films and jolting newspaper articles. Oh, those stories of people who get bitten after decapitating a rattlesnake are primal fear unleashed.
I have adjusted my trail runs, slightly, due to encounters at the start of my trail. There are one of two 'friendly' slithery reptiles along the start of my trail time. Roughly eight or nine meet & greets within the first minute of the trail. I had to wonder about the fact that there was a r snake 20 feet up the trail. The photo below is another run-in that is at the exact start of the trail. Sheeesh! I now walk this lively section.
Clock is ticking toward my next run. Almost all of the wildlife I see on my runs is during the suppertime excursion. I will have my eyes dialed in for any and all wildlife, capture what I can with my camera and enjoy getting out in nature and continue to improve my health and diabetes care. And watch my step.
If you find yourself trekking through rattlesnake territory, do be ultra careful. I have read about some horrendous encounters with some devastating results after interactions with Mr. Rattlesnake.
Plan to share another angle on my wild wildlife experiences. Could include Gila Monsters, Tarantulas (yes, I pick them up!), Desert Tortoises, Bobcats, Javelina's (no, don't pick those up), Giant Desert Centipedes, and who knows what else might appear in my blog.
The Gila River was flowing at a yearly high rate (357 cubic feet per second-C.F.S.) and I received a phone call from Billy Joe, an adventurer who also has type 1 diabetes. Google unveils a record flow at Winkelman (our entrance point) of 55,000 C.F.S.! A slight difference from our day on the river but it would be enough flowing H2O to make things interesting.
Initially, I was to join Billy and a friend to support his journey down the Gila River from Winkelman to Kearny, Arizona. The Gila River is not a large flow of water but for the arid desert Southwest it is a vital piece of the life puzzle for the area. It is not a deep river, although I can share that in many points it was over my head. We will get to my means for analyzing this fact, later.
I would receive a phone from Billy the night before the trip and he had secured a 2nd kayak so that I would be able to join him on the river instead of along the river. While I have a decent background of sea kayaking this would be my first time to river kayak. No spray skirt nor bear spray. With a bright and early start I scrambled to pack items for the trip. My nature is to start packing well before an outing and meticulously go over the details. I am a planner and know that I need/want diabetes supplies, safety and camera gear, food, etc. I headed out the door a little short on the full list of items. While I am not aquaphobic, I dabble in some level of -ic that is right below aquaphobic (water panic).
The journey would start well and gave the indication that it would be a simple float. River was moving us along at a good clip and thick, lush vegetation crowded along the vital water source streamed by. Soon the river narrowed under a railroad bridge and the nestle of branches and trees encroached upon our water highway and revealed a drop off. Grabbing nearby foliage, we analyzed our situation and decision to 'ride' the drop or negotiate around it. Negotiation appeared to offer minimal opportunities so we rowed forward. No problem and we continued on our way to Hayden then Kearny.
At some maze of roots and branches and a narrow point with a funnel of faster flowing water I ran into a low hanging branch. When this happens the outcome is somewhat settled. You can do your best to push off, duck, or skirt the 'object' but if the current is flowing in its direction and/or you pick a less than adequate line, you will be stopped. While you may be furiously tackling the water with your oars the liquid freight train continues forward and the laws of physics begin to evolve. I was flipped.
Into the river I went and I was now submersed, pawing upward to break the surface. At the same time, you, the kayak and your oar are riding the current, thankfully at the same speed. At this point it is a crushing reality that I need to keep that kayak in my grasp and capture the oar. Pure misery if any of those vital pieces got caught up in the thickets and I was still moving downriver. Really difficult to land on the steep slopes and go back upstream to retrieve anything.
Billy Joe's Video on our kayak adventure.
This is not the first time I have been introduced to a body of water while kayaking. During an ocean kayak venture, I unvoluntarily exited the kayak and found myself in Sitka Sound (Alaska). Thankfully, it was close to shore and I had a spray skirt. Bobbing in the Gila River, I now had an open kayak that was now full of water. I knew how heavy 90 ounces of water was to run with. Imagine the weight of a boat full of water. Billy Joe had been just ahead of me but he was out of sight and screams to know that I had been hung up. I secured the oar, righted the kayak and found a spot to 'park' the kayak while I did some bailing to lighten the kayak and pulled it up the steep slope to turn over and drain the aqua pura.
This would happen a number of times and I began to get more comfortable with an equation that would have overwhelmed me in the past. Do not ask me to go out on a raging river and practice kayak exits, but I was taking some steps (strokes) in the right direction by the end of the day to getting more comfortable in a watery environment.
Me and my gear (I had tethered the living daylights out of my gear bag) did survive and I am happy that I had this opportunity. It was a learning experience and I realized that many things could have gone wrong. Yes, oh yes, the insulin pump brilliantly kept on ticking. Thankfully, we did not encounter these landmines and did have a memorable, but good ish time on the Gila River.
I am working on a video of this. Take a deep breath!
A question my parents, friends, relatives and unknown strangers ask (Why I bungee jump). Why would you jump off of a perfectly good bridge? Or a bad bridge for that matter?
My adventurous life of jumping from bridges, out of airplanes (tandem jump), base jumping (tandem jump), rope jumps and swings from bridges, mountain climbing, rock climbing, caving, and organizing extreme events (long ocean swim races in Alaska), etc. all goes back to a single moment in life while I lived in Boise, Idaho. A clarifying moment of who I would become and how I would find a little extra zest in life and how I would make decisions as opportunities would cross my path.
My Sony POV video.
My neighbor Curt strolled by one morning and asked me a simple but complicated question. Would I like to join him and a few others to bungee jump off of a bridge near where I lived?
My mind played some games with me and I inched toward creating a reason I would or could not jump. My heart said, No, We are Not Going That Direction! A few more seconds of swirling brain waves bouncing in my head and I took a deep breath.
Video of me from my camera. Filmed by Sean Crosby.
Ok, maybe a few deep gasps for breath. I walked next door, rattled Curt's door and semi-confidently uttered, 'Yes'.
My thought was simply and in a somewhat child-like manner were that I could not come up with a solid, valid or even heroic reason to not do the bungee jump.
That is how I approach decisions to take on new challenges in life. Is there a good reason not to do this?
Interesting timing as Matthew Butterman, a type 1 diabetes acquaintance, contacted me for an article to post online at Diabetes Daily. He knew that I did not live the usual lifestyle of a person with diabetes. In the 'Out of the Box' zone!
He did an outstanding job on "Be Extreme! Seven Lessons for People with Diabetes Doing Extreme and Adventure Sports". Thank You Matthew for reaching out and sharing a niche lifestyle for those with diabetes. Article link below:
As mentioned, the timing was unique as I was doing a bungee jump at the Navajo Bridge (Grand Canyon-Arizona) very soon (all photos and videos are from this jump).
This was to be an extra special experience for me as it had been ten years since the last time I had connected to a bungee cord. I had contacted Eric Lyman (Over the Edge, Inc. Bungee) to see if we could orchestrate a group get together at the bridge. Bingo on seeking adventures!
Bryce Myhre - video
Bungee Eric had selected April 1, 2018 for our jump. No, not an April Fools Joke! It was a nod to the Dangerous Sports Club and their first bungee jump on April 1, 1979, helping to usher in a sport that I was now attached to. Pun intended. A crazy group of people from England who traveled the world doing very interesting, unique and crazy events. Also an amusing read.
I journeyed up to the bridge with Eric Peffer, who would create some excellent memories of the bungee jump via his trusty camera. We were joined by Barry and Sharon Glazier (friends from Kanab, AZ) and some of their friends.
Alyse (video above) had come to the bridge with her family (with the Glaziers) to watch some crazy people jump off the Nav. She would get a thumbs up from her parents and would make an exceptional leap.
The day would go very well as Abe and Bryce balanced on the railing, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and they were in flight and no screams ensued. It was now my time to scream, or not, as I did my best to balance on the narrow railing. Did I happen to mention that the wind was fierce, howling at those whose scary moment 467 feet above the Colorado River was now turned up a couple notches.
My years and years of leaping off things seemed to have soared back through my veins and I was at the low end for nerves rattling. That 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 did jingle a part of my brain that had semi-retired on my last jump in 2008, but I managed to jump in somewhat good form.
If 1 hits and you are still standing, you owe Eric a 6 pack!
I enjoy plummeting to the earth at race car speed but the bounce back up toward the bridge will flip flop your innards in a special manner. I expected this, but did not expect that my camera would fly off my head. Miraculously, I would catch it. Only issue now was I was spinning, bouncing and upside down and would have to put it back on my head. An incredible stroke of luck (maybe a bit of skill) but I now envisioned dropping the cam into the river far below.
I was successful in mounting the Sony and I clicked into a free ride up to the bridge far above. A few anxious seconds, but so glad that I had a life moment on the media card and the life changing experiences that doing such extreme things in life can produce.
Moments such as these do not happen sitting on the couch and wondering what if. Say yes to what may challenge, scare, or freak you out. The rattling anxiety is temporary, the memories are forever!
I have shared that I am a runner at heart but adventure is plugged into my dna. For the most part I thrive with new challenges and experiences. Yes, fat biking is a thing and I am slightly addicted after riding through the desert with Billy Joe. Billy Joe was on our No Limits team of riders with type 1 diabetes who competed in 24 Hours in the Old Pueblo (mountain bike race). In his bike arena sits mountain and road bikes and two fat bikes. Just enough for the two of us to take on the desert.
Vlog from the Fat Biking Adventure
We zig-zagged through some neighborhoods that soon found us in front of a wash and unlimited sand and rocks. Time to ride, but very, very slowwwwwwwlllyyyy. Oh, and those fat bikes, having tires that are better suited for go carts, are also extremely heavy. They do allow you to ride in terrain that is not suitable for other types of bikes.
It was grand to be back on a bike after a long hiatus off of the saddle. I hope to get back on my mountain bike but will be challenged by the coming three digit temperatures that will swell the desert with a zapping heat that frightens me with the horrifying thought of having a helmet on my head.
Video below gives the viewer a glimpse of a rather fun sport. #8 in my vlog series.
The bike path above us was bustling with weekend riders and runners enjoying their time on pavement. It was a beautiful day and the scenery, while stark in areas, afforded the quiet moments to power the fat bike through sand and over a landscape of rocks, rocks and more dang rocks.
While those monster tires churned through the varied sand and rock obstacles, the bike was unsuccessful at finding victory in deep sand. Or, my skill set was not quit as deep as the unforgiving layer of sand.
I did fall a few times but only one fall will be highly featured in this blog. Almost done with our route through the Pantano Wash, I found a notable rock that had my name on it and I crashed to the desert floor. Also crashing was my insulin pump which had a short but sweet meeting with the mentioned rock. The noise that my pump squealed out was loud, irritating and the sign of death as our ride was now over (except for the pedal back to Billy Joe's home). Pump was now dead and I needed to make my way to a syringe and insulin and eventually a previously used insulin pump in my archives. Not a stunning way to end the day but an excellent way to spend the day. Thanks go to Medtronic for promptly zipping a new insulin pump my way.
The morning was chilly and dark, and I was sleepy, slumped on a bus crammed with strangers as we rolled toward a nondescript parking area near Winkleman, Arizona. Our bus ride began at Oracle State Park (Oracle, AZ) and we were being shuttled a long distance North of where I had hoped to receive a medal, signifying that I had survived the Oracle Rumble. Our legs or a savior vehicle would take us back to the park and I would find out which method of delivery that this race would unveil.
I had haphazardly jotted my name into the small section of the application that mentioned long distances, remote areas, headlights, medical care, etc, etc. that was the Oracle Rumble 50 mile race. I felt really good about this decision, at least on paper.
Bus chatter revealed that the two closest runners to me were from San Diego and Seattle. I felt blessed that I lived a mere 1/2 hour from the start line but knew that would have no bearing on whether I would finish, only that if I was in pain and anguish, I would be home soon.
I overheard some details of the race from the year before (first year of the event). It was 11 degrees at the start line. Another blessing as it was in the balmy mid 30's as we pitched our warm clothes and extra gear into the vehicles heading back to Oracle State Park.
While the Race Director, Matt Nelson had tooted a rifle around the grounds of our start area, he gave us the preparatory speech at the start line with no rifle in sight. I anticipated a fired off rifle to start our episode across the desert, but, was disappointed. Maybe the rifle was for any runners who might start their journey before the countdown.
My race started off well, but took a crash dive about 20 minutes in. My insulin pump began beeping at me. An annoying tone that was a message to Dave that there is an issue and that he needs to take care of it, immediately. My immediate response was the realization that while the pump whined that the battery was almost dead I was 27 miles from a AA battery. I had checked the pump battery situation the evening before and it was over 1/2 full of power. I should have swapped batteries at that point but have not had a battery lose over 1/2 its gusto overnight. Another lesson learned and I turned off my CGMS (Continous Glucose Monitor System) that was giving me readings of where my blood sugar was. Rather important stuff for a person with type 1 diabetes running an ultramarathon. I would have to take blood sugars with a blood sugar monitor. That extra time would crush my hopes and plans of winning this race. Oh wait, I still do not have that speed. Maybe next year.
I am pretty good at adapting and plodding forward through epic craziness. As I watched my blood sugars go from 119 while on the bus to 222 and 298 (about 3 miles in). This hyper supersonic action of a rising blood sugar was not a result of eating anything. Nerves? Not sure, but another factor that I would overcome.
The blood sugar would slowly crawl down to a good level and I gained some extra mojo now that I was almost 'normal'. The course was not in the normal category as it did start with a downhill trend, but would become a real up and down affair. I never did see the actual feet gained on this race but I did read a number of accounts from mountain bikers who had raced the length of the Arizona Trail (almost all of the Oracle Rumble is on the Arizona Trail) and I saw many who stated that this section is the most difficult one that they encountered.
I trooped forward, mile after mile and was creeping toward the aid station at about 27 miles. I had started to feel the cramps developing and knew from my previous ultra that I dearly wanted to avoid cramps. I had spent a considerable amount of time stretching and taking longer runs but my genes were living the wild life in the cramp department.
I sat down and fed my face, my cramps and my muscles at the aid station and made a decision to exit the 50 miler and settle for the 32 mile event. Actually, the decision had been made a number of miles ago and I knew it was the right choice and I was very glad that I had taken on the challenge and finished 32 miles. I knew that a lot would have to come together for a 50 and that 32 miles ain't bad. While I hover at an age where I shouldn't be doing what I am doing (and with type 1 diabetes) I have done 2 ultramarathons, a 24 hour team mountain bike race, crewed for the Race Across America (bicycle) and will be doing a bungee jump at the Grand Canyon in about 10 days, all within the last year and a half. Live life fully!
A huge Thank You to Diabetes Daily and Matthew Butterman for the article 'Be Extreme! Seven Lessons for People with Diabetes Doing Extreme and Adventure Sports'.
The story is below.
Well written, researched and includes me along for the ride/jump/swim/run/climb/hike. Whatever it is, whatever you enjoy doing, whatever challenges stand in your way, DO IT! Do not let diabetes or your mind, stop you.
Do check out the Diabetes Daily site. Lots of information, stories, advice, etc.
Many, many years ago, while living in Boise, Idaho, my neighbor casually invited me to join him for an outdoor activity. Actually, to go bungee jumping. I had never done anything particularly heart pounding and I gave it some thought. My thought process was very short and uncomplicated. I made a life-changing decision to join in on the challenge. The reason? I could not come up with a solid reason not to do it. Done.
When I took on the daunting challenge of riding a mountain bike with a team of riders with type 1 diabetes in a 24-hour race I was desperately lacking a few key items:
1. A rideable mountain bike
3. The desire to park my running shoes for awhile
4. Ability to ride
These issues while being possible deterrents were not going to stop me. Ok, they could stop me dead in my (tire) tracks, but I decided to give it a crazy whirl.
Underneath, I had another idea, buried within my creative spirit that had nothing to do with athletic ability or to not kill myself on my newly clutched mountain bike. Yes, I had conquered #1 on the list of deterrents. And a stupendous greenish color sparling new bike gave me a special feeling invulnerability, at least until I actually got on the bike.
Tucked away in shredded, distant memories, I did have a semi-healthy background on a mountain bike. My brain does not serve me well to those reflections but I had an obsessed riding roommate and negotiating obscenely difficult trails was on our list of things to do since neither of us could define anything better to do.
Oh, and that creative notion tossing about in my brain? I wanted to create a film out of the 24-hour experience. Why not? Or shall I ask myself, why so? This desire or goal had it's own list of challenges. Seems like most things in life do.
1. I did not quite know how to make a film
2. Newly acquired software that indicated I could make a film, but I was just learning how to not crash my computer system with it.
3. Would the team be ok with filming, questions, and sharing about their diabetes?
I am creative and have been a photographer by trade. I started pulling out the video camera when I would run into desert life, such as a rattling rattlesnake, tarantula, gila monster, etc. I began seeing the beauty of video, capturing unique moments in life and the ability to share more of a story by combining photography, video and writing.
The icing on the sugar-free chocolate cake was being involved with the Banff Mountain Film Festival. A number of years ago my diabetes adventure group, No Limits received funding to produce our first film "Sugar Free Ocean". I would join the Banff Film Fest Sitka (Sitka, Alaska) as a board member. The funding was from the group which was generated from the Banff Mountain Film Festival World Tour and their stop in Sitka. They would donate all of their profits of the film evening to one or more non-profit organizations.
I would eventually become the director of the BMFF in Sitka until life moved me off of the island (One week before the BMFF!!!!!!!!!). I was inspired by the outdoor and cultural films that BMFF traveled the world to present. I had the good fortune to spend a lot of time with the touring 'road warriors' from Banff and heard some of the inside stories behind the films. The inside stories are often better and more interesting than what is in the film.
I was able to watch and assist Amy piece together the story and media to create the film. Not much of a role but I was glad to have pushed some buttons to make the effort happen. On the next No Limits kayak expedition the following year I would step into the role of filmmaker for the first time.
What a learning experience it was to craft a story, inserting two incredible characters (Trever & Scott), abundant wildlife, solid weather (for Alaska), and the Alaska terrain, which never fails to amaze. And then, there is the humor that Trever bestows to the film "Alaskan Waters". Insanely funny and there is also a very deep angle of emotion that plays out. Watch and see! I just posted the trailer and I am almost done with this project that is now many years old. Although, I had started on "Alaskan Waters before "You Only Live Once", I shifted focus as the mountain bike film seemed a little more timely to complete soon. The tales from the wilds of Alaska could wait.
I do not know what is next for me but I enjoy a new perspective and avenue to share stories involving diabetes, adventure, No Limits, living life to the fullest and encouraging and inspiring the watchers.