San Marcos to Luling — 17 miles

We arrived at Aquarena Springs at about 8:00 a.m. on Saturday morning. We Velcro'ed our ½ gallon water jugs (one each, and pre-filled with Gatorade) into the boat, and tossed in our water bottles (also filled with Gatorade). We liberally applied 15 SPF suntan lotion to any exposed skin, and I applied some Vitamin E oil to my hands. We made one last check to make sure we had our equipment, carried our boat to the water's edge, gave Shannon one last hug and kiss, lowered the boat into the water, and slowly paddled our way to our starting position in Row 18, Slot 4.

Marty would be our bow man, and I would paddle stern. Some teams switch during the race, but we would both become quite comfortable in our roles and we would spend the entire race in the seats where we started.

Of course it wouldn't be right if we hadn't forgotten something. We forgot to tie our 15' stern rope to the stern, which would cost us about 5 minutes when we got to Cummings Dam while we dug through our stuff bag to find it. We also forgot to bring our paint pen, which we were going to use to paint our team name on the side of the boat. We had placed a sticker on each side of the boat that read "An Army of One". We were going to cross out the One, and write the word "Two" in its place. As it was, we were stuck with an "Army of One". Which would have been a great name for a solo boat. But we were a tandem team. Oh well. Our team would eventually be dubbed "The Hawaiian Army", because of our Army stickers (I'm an Army veteran, and Marty is still active duty), and our very conspicuous and loud yellow-and-red racing jerseys.

As the boats all lined up, we discussed our start strategy, which was to sprint like hell to Joe's Crab Shack Island, which was 400 yards downstream, and try to pass as many boats as we could along the way. All the butterflies and anxiety disappeared as the count down hit zero, and we were racing.

We hit the first portage quickly, and were able to find a slot right down the center to get right back into the river. We estimated that we probably passed about 30 boats between the start and putting back in after the first portage.

Rio Vista Dam was packed with cheering spectators, some of whom couldn't help but get in the way as we tried to portage on the retaining wall left of the dam. I think I might have hit somebody with the stern of our boat as we pulled her out of the water and ran towards the put in just below the dam. Marty slipped getting back into the boat, but we were able to get through quickly, with only a minimum of water in the boat. We looked back to watch an Alumacraft canoe fill nearly to capacity with water when they tried to shoot the spillway. We're glad we portaged.

We settled into a too-fast stroke rate, and were not maneuvering the boat as deftly as we should have. Rack this up to too few hours spent training together. We hit Thompson's Island Dam, and portaged right, and were able to get back into the river cleanly and quickly without having to wait on another boat. During our training run, I was nearly knocked from the stern by a leaning tree about 50 feet above Thomson's Island Road Bridge. This time we took a better line, and when my stern swung around to line up for the bridge, I cleared the tree easily. We went under the bridge paddling, not losing a stroke.

We were still pushing too hard and not very efficiently. The Jensen 18 is not known as a highly maneuverable boat, and we were proving that early on the upper section. We cursed as we watched boats come from behind us and take clean lines around the tight turns, as we glided wide to the outside of each curve, fighting each one with forceful corrective and steering strokes, rather than forward strokes.

We hit the Blanco River Confluence at 9:48, which is about what I expected. We made the right turn, and were glad to find very little head wind, which is common on this wide stretch of water. In the mile before Cummings Dam, we caught and passed three tandem boats, pulling along the retaining wall just ahead of them. However, we spent about five minutes searching for our stern line-which was packed in a dry stuff bag-and getting it tied into place. Once we did get it tied on, I lowered the front end down the 15' foot drop, and began lowering the stern by the rope. The rope had looped itself around my right index finger, and suddenly squeezed tightly enough around my index finger that I felt certain it was about to severe it. I yelled at Marty to stop, and luckily the stern of the boat rested against the dam wall long enough for me to extract my finger from the loop and finish lowering the boat. By the time I ran around the trail on the far right side of the dam, Marty had already dragged the boat to the water, and was waiting for me. We shoved her out past the shallow rocks, and were on our way. I would later rate this portage a 'D'. Luckily this would prove to be our mostly poorly executed portage the remainder of the race (The portage at the Gonzalez Dam would be more difficult, but due to it's very nature, and not errors on our part).

We sailed under Westerfield Crossing with about 5 other boats. The bridge was still packed with cheering spectators when we went under.

When we scouted Cottonseed Rapid two weeks earlier, we used the small retaining wall on the left side of the rapid. Our plan was to use this route again. However, as we approached Cottonseed, three other boats were entering the rapids less than 50 feet in front of us. We also could see at least one boat already wrapped on the rocks in the center of the rapids. Certain that one of the boats in front of us would also try for the retaining wall on the left, we made a split-second decision to take the long portage right. This portage cost us about 10 minutes. While we were portaging we watched a second canoe wrap on the first wrapped canoe. We would later learn that one of the boats, # 2010, had torn at least two large gashes in their boat, and had to bang out some bends and bows. They would only make it as far as Palmetto in their beat up boat.

Despite losing some ground here, we felt that it was better to be safe than sorry. In fact, we would begin creating "Rules" as the race unfolded. After several other instances of choosing time and safety over risk and speed, Rule 3 stated, "When in doubt, take the safe route".

Rules 1 and 2 were created during our initial training run two weeks earlier. Just before the Thomson's Island Road Bridge, the stern of the boat swung beneath a large leaning tree. Marty and the bow cleared it, but I was very nearly knocked from the boat. Thus, Rule 1 For the race was "Do not knock your partner out of the boat." We also immediately formulated Rule 2, which stated: "If you do knock your partner out of the boat, go back to get him

We pushed on towards Martindale Dam, but were caught in what should have been a very-easily avoidable sweeper. As we passed through some low hanging branches, a short, thick branch caught me just under my right arm and rocked the boat sharply. Marty was tossed from the boat as it keeled over onto its port side. Somehow, I managed to stay in the boat as it rolled back to upright. Sitting on the bottom of the boat, which was about ¾ full of water, I was able to paddle it to the shallow bank on the other side while Marty hung on. We watched 5 other boats pass us by as we flipped our boat to empty the water and take stock. Other than lost time and pride, the only other damage was what would turn out to be a huge bruise under my right arm, and a large gash on the top of my right foot (I still don't know how that happened).

At Martindale Dam, we nudged the bow of the boat up to the tree on the right and Marty quickly scrambled up the bank, while I did a very ungraceful backwards roll into the river (intentionally, to cool off). Marty pulled the boat up the bank, and had it nearly down to the water again by the time I pulled myself out of the river and ran down the dam.

We had considered portaging right at Martindale Low Water Crossing, as we knew that we would take on a lot of water here regardless of how smoothly we ran it. If we had an automatic bilge pump, we wouldn't have thought twice. But as it was, our only bailer was a bilge sponge, which actually worked quite well throughout the race, and also helped to keep the boat mostly clean. We ran the crossing and took on a few gallons of water as expected. It took us about 15 minutes of alternating between paddling and sponging to get most of the water out.

We sailed into Staples Dam and met Shannon on river left. We got our boat down the other side, and pulled it onto the bank so Shannon could swap our water jugs and grab the garbage. Shannon gave us each two ½ gallon jugs and two 20 ounce bottles of water, but forgot the 2-liter camel pack that I had asked her to grab. She asked me if I wanted her to go get it…but I said No, that we would be OK until Fentress. We completed the first leg of the race in 3:32, which was the 59th fastest time overall.

Staples Dam to Luling — 23 miles

The nine-mile stretch between Staples and Fentress Hwy 20 Bridge would be the most harrowing section of the river for us. Numerous sweepers and the fast current kept us pushing hard. We were momentarily pinned on a downed tree on the right side of the river, about 15 feet from the right bank. We capsized the boat once more, and pulled it off the tree, towards the right bank. This was a mistake, as there was no way to get around the downed trees and strainers on the right. Two other boats were also caught in this dead-end. We emptied out the boat, and watched another boat, the Aging Bulls I believe, get pinned against the same tree, but were able to push their way off of it and get back into the current. We scrambled back into our boat and paddled hard upstream, trying to get above the tree's root before we were swept back into it. When we where swept back into it, we were able to shove off of it just as we had seen the Aging Bulls do moments before. Another 15 minutes had been lost.

When we pulled under Fentress Hwy 20 Bridge, Shannon quickly tossed us each another ½ gallon jug of water, but realized that she had forgotten to sign us in and out of Staples. She only had about 15 minutes to get back and sign us in before the 3:00 deadline.

Between Fentress and Luling we would run into more trouble. We tipped the boat one more time (this would be the third and final time that we were knocked out of our boat). Marty lost the bite valve from his water jug and siphoned water into it, so we had to pour it out. He put his drink tube in our third jug, but without a bite valve. When his drink tube accidentally hit the water again it siphoned more water into this jug. I had to split the final ½ gallon of water with him, and hope it would be enough to get us to Luling, which was still over 12 miles away…more than 2 1/2 hours.

We didn't have nearly enough water, but pushed on to Luling.

Before Staples, I had started to get severe cramps in my biceps, forearms, and hands. The cramps continued until we pulled into Luling around 5:15 that evening. We reloaded on water, taking on extra for the run to Palmetto. We also took some time (too long) to eat some dinner (fig newtons and beef jerky). We completed the Staples to Luling section in 5:58, which was the 87th fastest time overall 21 boats passed us during our mishaps.

Luling to Palmetto — 20 miles

We didn't take the time to mount our Pelican Laser Pro spotlight before we left Luling, thinking that we'd find somewhere just before dark to pull over and set it up. We made the quick portage at Luling Zedler Dam, and got right back into the river and made the Interstate 10 bridge and Broken Dam Rapid before dark.

It was starting to get dark, and Marty was getting anxious since we didn't have our lights on yet. We managed to pull between two boats that had lights, and were able to pick our way to Ottine Dam with nothing more than our headlamps and following the path of the boat in front of us. Marty's nerves were pretty frayed after paddling for a while in the darkening sky, as the river still had some dangerous sections, including a log jam in very swift water that required us to climb out of the boat, balance on a log in the middle of the river, pull our boat over the jam, and climb back in. At Ottine Dam, we pulled off to the side for a few moments and tried unsuccessfully to mount our spotlight.

We lowered our boat down below the dam, and got back in easily enough. At this point, it was completely dark out, and our only source of light was our two head lamps. We immediately rammed into a large partially submerged tree spanning the river just below the dam…the current was running quickly, pushing water beneath the jam. Marty was able to quickly get out of the boat and onto part of the tree that was above the water (about 4" above the water, and about 12" wide). He pulled the bow section of the boat onto the tree, stabilizing it until I could walk the length of the boat and join him on the log.

We stood there on the log for about a minute, trying to find a line through the remaining debris that we could see in our headlamps. We shoved the boat across the tree, resting the stern on the log while Marty scrambled to his seat. I pushed off and jumped into the stern, and we were off again towards Palmetto.

We deliberately and carefully made our way towards Palmetto. It was a relief to come around the bend and see the lights of the next checkpoint. As we approached the bridge, a race official on the bridge yelled out to us that it was mandatory to get out of the boat and walk it up onto the bridge. About 20 yards from the Palmetto Bridge, he yelled for us to get out of the boat NOW! We plunged into the water, uncertain of it's exact depth, and were relieved to find out it was only a little more than waist deep. Although the current was somewhat swift, it was easy enough to walk the boat up to the bridge, which the water was flowing about 2-3" over at the center point. We climbed out of the river and onto the bridge. It was 11:00 p.m.

Both of our nerves were a little frayed after paddling the last 2.5 hours with inadequate lights on a twisting section of the river that was filled with partially submerged trees, floating logs, and swift current. Having overheard the race officials say that there were difficult jams just past Palmetto, and knowing that we were 11 hours ahead of the checkpoint cutoff time, we decided to get some rest at Palmetto while the boat dried enough to mount our spotlight.

We pulled our boat river-left, and carried it up nearly to the top of the concrete path. While we were pulling out our sleeping mats and blankets and preparing some hot MREs for dinner, we overheard another racer talking about a canoe earlier that evening (Mraz Zoltan) that did not walk his boat up to the bridge. Mraz had to watch helplessly as it was pinned first against the bridge, then listen as it folded beneath the bridge. After that incident, the out-of-boat portage became mandatory.

Total Distance paddled in Day One: 60 miles

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