Patagonia Expedition Race, Southern Chile, February 2006

Team Feed The Machine/Ibex Cast of Characters
Christian Burke; AKA—X; Los Angeles, California
Jayson Brown; AKA—Chainsaw; Orlando, Florida
Jon Bonwick; AKA—Ladies Man; San Francisco, California (ENGLAND)
Bernice Pierson; AKA—Princesa; Orange County, California (TEXAS) Most Chileans knew my Texas flag since it is so similar to their country’s flag.



Quotes of the race:

“I don’t know what I’m doing, but I sure am having fun!”
X when leading us through the enchanted forest at 2:30am on day 10.

“Green bogs good, red bogs rough.”
Jay describing the peat bogs we became so familiar with.

“I should be at home baking pies and making babies; not out here doing this shit!!!!”
Bern after cry #4 on day 8.

“At least you don’t have to worry about shrinkage.”
Jon to Bern after she fell in the icy river.

Pre-Race Feb 8-11

I met Jon and X (Christian) at LAX on Wed, Feb 8. It’s always quite a spectacle to check in to a flight with an oversized bike box, huge gear bag, extra heavy carry-on bag and a full carry-on backpack (AKA my purse; for flight purposes). We did however manage to make it through without any big hassles and without having to pay extra fees. (All extra fees ended up catching up with us in Santiago.)

We flew LAN Chile Airlines from LA to Santiago. We met Jay in Santiago on Thurs, Feb 9 where we completed the last leg of our flight from Santiago to Punta Arenas. After over 24 hours of travel, we arrived in Punta Arenas where Mane (mah-ne), one of the race photographers and writers for Sleepmonsters.com was there to pick us up. He immediately took our head shots, we loaded up the trailer, and drove 20 minutes to our accommodations. They gave us two rooms at the Hostel Bustamantes which was a small but comfortable hostel overseen by a lovely woman named Gloria who gave us access to the entire downstairs hallway and dining area to spread out.
The organizers had a house, which served as their office, within a few blocks of our hostel. And all the other teams were in hostels nearby. We gathered in a hotel for the opening ceremony of the race. Stephan, the race director, gave us an insight into what we would face in the days ahead and each team captain introduced his teammates. We were surprised to find out that there were only 5 teams in attendance. Which I now think was probably a good thing as more teams just add to the confusion and difficulty of transport during troubleshooting. We were introduced to everyone involved with the race including the officers of the Chilean Navy who would later dry my wet and dirty clothes in the engine room of their ship and help me make pasta for my guys. J We were treated to a video, snacks, and the national drink called a Pisco Sour. (similar to a margarita….only BETTER!) We mingled and took photos with the other teams before retiring to our hostel to further organize our gear.

On Fri, Feb 10 we were up early for the van ride to the skills tests and gear check location. We rappelled from the rafters of an old warehouse and then we demonstrated wet entry/exit on our double kayaks in the Straight of Magellan. Turned out the ropes section of the race was canceled so we never saw our ropes gear again. We passed the tests with no problem and we proceeded to be the pranksters of the race. X brought hundreds of bright red “Feed The Machine” stickers for us to hand out to our adoring fans. So the guys began to slap these stickers on the backs of unsuspecting racers and staff. And for the next couple of weeks you would also find our stickers on the vans, trailers, taxis, hostels, and Chilean children within 100 meters of Jay and X.

Our grocery shopping excursion out weighed our last one in Brazil. We probably should have had it a little better planned, but we didn’t. We went in, grabbed all kinds of goodies, and about $250 later, we left with two of the carry-out kids carrying our groceries back to our hostel. Jay and I were in charge of preparing the food bags while Jon and X went to the captain’s meeting. We spread out the food we bought, plus the food and supplements we brought from the US, all over the tables in the hostel dining room. Jay did a great job calculating the number of calories in all of our food and the number of calories we would need to sustain 4 people for 11 days of racing. Needless to say, we didn’t have enough food. When Jon and X returned from the meeting with the maps and the news, we all went for one last nice dinner. La Luna was the place. Jon and X told us of the epic kayak, followed by the long ass bike ride, followed by the unreal 2-3 day trek, followed by another epic kayak, followed by….WHAT???? A 5 DAY TREK!!!!!,,,then another kayak, and a bike to finish. This is when I started doubting my decision to participate in this event. So, uh,,,,”Garcon, can you bring more food please?” J X seemed to have lost his appetite, but I was fattening myself up for my final days.

Jay and I finished packing the food bags, X sewed on all our patches, and Jon studied the maps and directions. One of the greatest things about this team is that we each had a job to do all the time, and we pretty much always fell into place doing exactly what we needed to do to get to the finish line. I must add here that according to Jay’s caloric calculations, several of the food bags were full to capacity and we still needed to buy more food. Well me, being the most experienced on our team, took it upon myself to divvy up the food a bit more and decided we had enough….or maybe not enough,,,but as much as we could carry. This decision would come to haunt me later when our stomachs growled louder than Jay snored. And believe me, that’s LOUD!

On Sat, Feb 11 we sent all our bags with the organization (praying we would meet them again in the appropriate places). The organization had a special lunch planned for us so they drove us all to a ranch were the hosts presented us with an incredible spread of meats, salads, drinks, and desserts. The hosts were a very cute couple in their early 60s who demonstrated a special Chilean dance. Then they chose some people from the audience to dance with them. We volunteered Dan from the Canadian team to dance with the lady and he was magnificent! Wow, what great moves Dan! Then the hosts showed us a video about the settlement of the Chilean/Patagonian region. Unfortunately I was so tired and sleepy that I wasn’t able to pay complete attention to the video. However, I distinctly remember a very scary male voice that kept shouting “Magellanes!, Magellanes!” (mahg-u-yanes!) Later throughout the race, many of the teams would shout this word in vain when cursing the land, the race director, the bushwacking, the logs, the peat bogs, and the bitter cold.

The captains were then given the emergency satellite phones and GPS units that were tightly sealed and only to be used in case of extreme emergency. And we learned that due to the very windy weather forecasts, we would skip the initial 60km (37mi) kayak leg and begin the race with a 233km (145mi) bike ride. After returning from the luncheon, we rearranged our gear for a bike start, checked out of our hostel and the van picked us up. After a few ceremonial photos in the town square, we were on our way to another hostel near the race start. A couple of hours later we arrived and we were assigned one room per team. All five teams were on the same floor mingling, checking out each other’s rooms, each other’s gear, and each other’s nerves. They treated us to a pasta dinner and then we prepped our gear for the race start and went to bed.

The wind howled loudly all night long and I was already awake when the 4am wake up call came. We had a quick breakfast of bread and coffee and then hopped on the vans to the race start. The weather was actually quite pleasant. Not bitterly cold, no rain, but the wind was picking up and the wind chill was getting colder.

Race Legs 1,2, and Stranded awaiting rescue

Sun, Feb 12: The vans dropped us at our bikes on the side of a dirt road at the makeshift starting line. We made our final bike inspections and then lined up for photos. After a few words from Stephan, the race started a little after 6am as the sun was rising. The Spanish (Team Buff), the Canadians (Alberta AR), and us took off ahead of the South Africans (Mad Scientists) and the Chileans (DAP Antarctica). After less than an hour, we passed Canada who we thought was fixing a flat. A few minutes later we passed Spain and I remember wondering why they were stopped. The winds immediately picked up and soon we were riding against 40-50mph winds that seemed to be coming in from all sides…except of course from behind. I tried drafting off of Jon as much as possible. I would ride right behind him, then the wind would shift and I’d ride behind and to his left, then the wind would shift and I would ride behind and to his right. This went on for hours. At times we were moving only 4mph! We managed to get a pace line going and we took turns leading with Jon taking the longest pulls because he was the strongest. And I did manage a few good pulls myself! Once, however, I was riding just behind and to the left of Jon when the wind shifted and blew me right into Jon’s tow rig. My handlebars got caught and I lost control of the bike and crashed. With a bloody knee and a cut on the bridge of my nose, the guys picked me up and put me back on my bike. We made it to the water stop where we met up with the organization. They informed us that the ride had been shortened from 233km (145mi) to 166km (103mi) due to the winds. It was taking us all too long to ride this section that they had estimated at 16 hours. Turns out we did 166km (103mi) in 15 hours! It felt as if the entire ride was a never ending up hill battle. Even on the slight downhill sections we were forced to pedal against the wind. We needed water again and we happened by an old house where we found the owner inside. He was an old man of about 70 years and we asked him for some water. He put on the kettle and proceeded to prepare us some hot water for tea. When I saw what was happening I thanked him, but asked if we could have some cold water. He gave us water from his well, we gave him a little money for his trouble, and we continued. About 84mi into the 103mi ride, Spain caught us and passed us and they ended up finishing about 45 minutes ahead of us. Lisa de Speville, the Checkpointzero.com journalist, was dropped off to run back with us for the last 5km of our ride. She told us of Spain’s little navigational detour and of Canada’s mechanical followed by their navigational detour which caused them to be picked up and driven to the end of the bike ride and given a 10 hour penalty. Turns out South Africa and Chile were so exhausted from the winds that they stopped on the side of the road to sleep for a while and let the winds die down. The highlight of the ride for me was seeing the wildlife. Little did I know that this was one of the few times I’d see any animals during this race. We saw guanacos (related to camels and lamas), some ostrich like birds (which I’m not sure what they were), some pink flamingos, a grey fox, lots of sheep, and wild horses.

As we prepared to transition from the 166km (103mi) bike to the 63km (40mi) trek, we got into our food bags and changed clothes. Canada arrived in a van and proceeded to tell us about their adventure. Turns out their penalty put them only 10 minutes behind us in the race. The organization drove Spain and us to the start of the next trek and would return for Canada soon after. Spain started out first and we were forced to wait 10 minutes later. It was around 11pm on Sunday, Feb 12 when we started the trek that was estimated to take us around 10 hours. At the pre-race meeting we were given a set of satellite maps that were 1/100,000 scale with a few clouds blocking the view. We were also provided with translated (from Spanish) written directions to supplement the maps in our navigation. We would come to heavily rely on these directions as the maps were of very little help.


Because the trek went through the night, it seems that I’ve forgotten most of it. I believe that many times I just put myself on “automatic pilot” and I end up just following my teammates with moments of waking up to see what’s going on and maybe add a little to the discussion. J We followed the race directions which ended up being wrong due to a translation error or a typo and we lost about an hour. We rested a few times and napped as we were pretty drained from that very difficult ride. My stomach was in a bit of gastric distress for most of the trek so I didn’t move as quickly as I would have liked. It was a relatively mild night. Not too cold, windy or rainy but daylight was a welcome sight as I awoke from my “walking zombie” state. We were following a fence line up and over valleys, through the woods, then eventually we got to some fire roads. We got our first look at peat bogs, but honestly, the woods, the peat bogs, and this entire trek was a “walk in the park” compared to what we would face later on the course. Jayson was already dealing with blisters and had to stop a couple of times to take care of his feet. Towards mid day on Mon, Feb 13, we could see the body of water we were trying to reach. I was happy to see it, but boy was it still quite a ways away! We had all been out of drinking water for a few hours when we happened across a bunk house for construction workers. One man was there and he let us in, gave us water and allowed us to use his tables to spread out our remaining food and have a snack. A couple of Honey Stinger gels, a Pro Bar, a slice of salami and then we continued on and finally reached CP 3, 18 hours later around 5:30pm.


We were informed that Spain and Canada had already arrived ahead of us. They must have taken a different route because we never did see them or any signs of their presence. Once again the kayak leg was to be skipped due to the winds. Spain and Canada had been taken by catamaran to the next trek start and we were to be picked up in a couple of hours. South Africa and Chile were still on the course and due to arrive at the CP soon. We took advantage of the break to set up a tarp on the ground and cook some food. Thank goodness for Jayson and his MRE’s. He made us delicious, gourmet, Army style hot meals. X fired up our camp stove and warmed up some raviolis and hot water for the Alpine Aire Food. Jon passed out the cookies and Pringles and I sat there, rested my sore feet, and happily drank some Coca-Cola!

Then the race volunteers that were manning CP 3, Susana, Elena the medic, and Diego the photographer, informed us that the catamaran would have to return for us tomorrow because the weather was too bad for it to be on the water. So we were allowed to seek refuge in an old house nearby. The house appeared to be the quarters for the hands that worked the ranch. There was one old man of about 65 years who was in charge of the house while everyone else was away. He welcomed us into his home which had no running water and no electricity. We found a bedroom with a few dirty old mattresses and we made that our room. We settled in, pulled out our sleeping bags and slept. We heard the South Africans arrive around midnight. Tues, Feb 14 we woke up in the morning and we found that the Chileans were just arriving. They had fallen asleep about 5km from the CP and had spent a few hours out there. So now we had 3 teams and 3 staff people occupying this house. South Africa had their own room with only a couple of mattresses. Chile had the empty “living room” area with no mattresses. The kitchen served as the heart of the house where there was a wood burning stove that kept the first two rooms a bit warmer than the rest. We all had our shoes under the stove and our wet clothes hanging above the stove to dry out. Our water source was the nearby river that flowed into the ocean. The boys would take turns filling up the water barrel so that we could cook and drink. They also had to fill up the toilet water barrel so we could manually flush the toilet out by pouring buckets of water down it. Another water source was a barrel that caught the rain water. And being that it was raining so much in the last few days, the barrel was full. We never treated our water while in Patagonia. (We are still waiting to see if that was a good idea.) Buffy was a little black puppy that had followed the Spanish to the CP from about 10km away. He ended up being the CP 3 mascot. Everyone loved on him and he stuck around until we left.

As news traveled from the staff to the racers, we were getting conflicting reports. “The catamaran has left its port and it will be here in a couple of hours. No, it’s not coming until later this afternoon. No, the weather is too bad and it’s not coming until tomorrow.” I didn’t worry about it too much. I was more worried about eating and soaking my feet in the ice cold water so that they wouldn’t start swelling too much. Nearby, there was a small bridge over the river that flowed into the ocean. It was blocked from the wind so I sat there in the sunshine and soaked my sore feet. With a gorgeous view of Patagonia in front of me, and a tiny red fishing boat docked nearby, I felt like I was in the middle of some sort of gorgeous outdoor painting. For the rest of the day, all three teams were doing the same things; resting, fixing blisters, eating, and wondering what was ahead. We finally began to intermingle and we got to know the South Africans, the Chileans, and the staff really well. We gathered in the kitchen where we fashioned a central light out of a few headlamps and we lit candles and broke glow sticks to light up the place. We played the game “Who am I” and it was quite amusing trying to come up with people that we all knew. Every team offered their humor, especially my boys. Jayson entertained the crowd by constantly guessing Santa Clause. Jon from South Africa told us of the “lethal” mouthwash he had tried earlier that day. And Christian was “triple dog dared” to try the lethal mouthwash… so he did, and we laughed. He didn’t feel his tongue again until after the race ended. We sang songs, shared food, and shared stories. I was particularly moved when I asked Susana and the Chileans if they knew the song “El Rey.” They did and so we sang it. Then I told them how my grandpa had just passed the week before and that was his favorite song. A nice memory.



I must add in here my teammate X’s accounts of what happened during this time:
“ My first interaction was with the South Africans, namely Michael Graz (the team captain). You know, you meet interesting worldly people in this sport and then there are people like Michael who take it to a new level. We’re sitting in the kitchen having a mindless chat that quickly turns mindful. I had met him at the opening ceremonies days ago drinking a Pisco Sour, the national drink. Well, he wasn’t, I was. He can’t because he’s got cancer. This guy’s 36 years old or something like that, German born, South Africa is his permanent home, Chile is his temporary home. Get this, THREE PhDs, THREE bouts with cancer, a few ribs removed out of his shoulder, a few removed muscles out of his shoulder. A top Adventure Racer. The guy doesn’t skip a beat. His current bout is cancer on top of one of his lungs discovered not three months ago. We’re talking about his Chilean fishery where he his currently the CEO.
A course worker Susana comes in. I love Susana. She is the inventor of joy. Always a smile, loves to sing out loud, just here to bring people happiness. Jayson walks in at the same time and sarcastically quips me a happy Valentines Day. A light turns on in my head. I spot Susana’s satellite phone. “Susana, it’s Valentine’s Day. What would it take to call my daughter on that phone?” “Oh no no no no”, she says. I’m thinking “oh well”. I go back to my conversation with Michael, riveted by the breeding habits of the Abalone. Susana comes in ten minutes later. In her broken, but good, English “OK, I leave in ten minutes. I leave the phone here.” Duhhhhhhh, OH I GET IT! “I jump up, “OK I use the phone for two minutes!!!” I go outside and frantically figure out how to dial the damn thing. Oh my god it’s ringing. Damn, voicemail. Hmmmm. Try again. It’s ringing, “Dawn, I’m in Chile in the race, a course worker let me use her sat phone, where’s Halle???” And then I got my two minutes of peace. Maybe my best Valentines ever.
The rest of the day was hanging out with the rest of the people, Jonathon, Wessel (pronounced Vessel), Heather who is Michael’s wife. What an incredible woman. I hope to meet someone as strong and fragile at the same time…the Chileans, just great people. I wish there was time to talk about each and every one of them. They all have such great stories and are all celebrated athletes in their specialties. The day, after multiple delays in getting a boat to pick us all up, culminated in our makeshift pizza party in the kitchen around 8PM. It started with us all hanging out in there looking for something to do. Jonathon starts telling me how he can’t feel his tongue from the mouthwash he tried just a little while ago. I balked, “come on, how bad could it be?!?” Famous last words. Have you ever seen twelve adults crying and laughing at the expense of one poor sucker. That sucker was me…tears streaming down my face as I tried to maintain my composure long enough to casually exit the house and hurl the remains on the wet frozen ground outside. I return to bodies strewn about the floor in laughter. Some things are funny in every country and break all language barriers, this was one. A few of the people made a makeshift pizza with what remnants we had while I constantly tuned in this old transistor radio to whatever distant station of musical output it could produce. Great times, great conversation, great people. I won’t soon forget. “
As the teams ran out of food, the race volunteers shared theirs. Susana, Elena, and Diego made homemade pizzas out of anything we could muster up. It was amusing watching them make the dough from scratch with flour, yeast, and a little oil. They used a bottle to roll out the dough, they added some spaghetti sauce, and whatever else the teams could find in their food boxes. They were able to round up enough ingredients to make 4 pizzas and we were all so happy! They even had some wine, so we all passed around a couple of tin cups and shared the wine. Someone mentioned that it was Valentine’s Day! So we ate, drank, and toasted to St. Valentine for giving us this wonderful evening amongst our new friends. As people started retiring to bed, Jayson and I stayed up with the Chileans and the staff and talked until late in the night. Although we were in the middle of an 11 day race and we were stopped and stranded in this house with no idea when we’d be rescued, it was an incredible experience that I’m sure we will all remember forever.


The Race Continues; Leg 3
Two days after we arrived to CP3, we were rescued by the catamaran at 10 am on Wed, Feb 15. We enjoyed a scenic hour and a half catamaran ride to a port in which a van picked us up and took us into a small town. We had a twenty minute stop to use the toilet and buy some groceries. The guys ran into the store for some empanadas, cokes, and snacks. I ran to the nearest pizza joint and bought us some fresh, hot pizzas which we shared with the South Africans. Back on the vans, a ferry ride across to another island, a 4X4 truck ride on a sketchy dirt road and we were at the start of our 2-3 day trek. X was being told of the race situations, standings, etc. Turns out that Spain and Canada started this trek earlier that morning. By this time I’m thinking that this event is all jacked up and that this is no longer an adventure race. The weather, the course, the conditions of Patagonia dictate what happens here and now we are no longer racing against the other teams, but we are only racing to conquer the course and survive the harsh conditions of Patagonia. I think at this point we all accepted that to be the case and we knew that we were on our own, racing to survive and conquer.
We dug into our food bag and loaded our packs. As the rain started coming down we began hiking around 7pm. With daylight quickly ending, we hurried to make our way as far as we could. We could see the bushwacking we had to face on our way up and over the saddle and it did not look good. In fact, it looked really, really bad. The forest was thick with trees, dead logs, and thorny bushes. Bushwacking became our main means of travel through this trekking leg. We met the Calafate bush which provided us with an edible blue berry but also left us with hundreds of tiny thorns all over our bodies. These tiny thorns pierced right through our gloves and all our clothing into our skin. And in a few days the thorns that were left in our bodies would form painful, pussy, pimple-like bumps all over us.
Through the night, we made our way up to the saddle and a few times we had to go down and back up some steep ravines. Jon, being an experienced climber, was down and up the ravines with no problem and X was right behind him. Once, Jon had to set up our mandatory rope so that I could get up the steep ravine. For me, this was extremely physically exhausting and a bit scary. Jayson was usually behind me giving me encouragement and support. We traversed many more steep ravines and I think it was a good thing that I couldn’t see how far down and how steep they really were. I just kept my head down and paid attention to every step I took. I was really scared. We finally reached the top and went over the saddle and back down the other side. We found a stream we could follow down the valley and we were forced to walk through the frigid water as it was a little less bushwacking than walking on the sides. Once my feet were numb from the 40 degree water then it wasn’t so bad walking in it and we continued through it for about 8-10 hours. Jon was up ahead of us and I heard him fall in the water. Then I heard, FU**!, FU**!, FU**, lots and lots of times over and over. At first I thought he was swearing because he fell in, but the more he swore, the more I thought maybe he was really hurt. A little later, I caught up to him, shined my light in his face and saw a huge goose egg under a laceration on his forehead. Yikes, that had to have hurt!

It was now Thurs, Feb 16 and we followed another stream down and found a beaver pond. Walking through knee deep mud and cold water, we skirted the beaver haven and finally reached the lake we were looking for. We spent a couple of hours bushwacking around the lake when I finally asked Jon where it was we were headed. He pointed across the lake to a saddle and said we were going there. Boy was I sorry I had asked. It was a really, really long way! And at the pace we were going, I thought it was going to take us 3 days to get to the other side of the lake! So I took matters into my own hands and I stepped into the lake and began coasteering. Again the 40 degree water was not pleasant, but I didn’t care. We were moving two to three times faster than we were in the bush so I was happy. We skirted the lake at knee deep and sometimes thigh deep water and I picked and ate Calafate berries to keep my mind off the cold. The guys were following behind and cracking jokes about my advancement in the water. “Hey Princesa! What’s going on? Wait for us, we don’t want to get our skirts wet!” Ha, ha, they thought I was being smart and tough but I just wanted to get the hell out of that bushwacking and get it over with!
This is what X wrote:“ OK, the lake has water and super thick forest next to it...and nothing else. Thinking we might try for dry, we attempt the forest along the shoreline. Pointless, but we keep trying. We try the shoreline, but we are just wet. Back into the forest, pointless. This is going to take days. Then Bernice takes matters into her own hands and in a defining moment of the race just steps into the water and pounds away. She simply pretends that the water does not exist, moving her way through the water around trees branches and bushes protruding into the water and makes good progress. The three guys just stare at her in awe, start a little hooting and hollering and chase her down. She single handedly figured it out. This is what they wanted us to do. It's known as coasteering, us guys just couldn't get our pink laced panties adjusted in the right direction to figure it out. And away we went for the next ten hours.”
We continued to coasteer and we made good progress around the lake. A few times we were able to walk out of the water on some short beach lengths and we saw Spanish and Canadian footprints. After about 10 hours of coasteering, we reached the point in which we were to leave the lake. There were a couple of camera men camped there and they wanted to follow us for a while. But it was cold and raining and I don’t think they were anxious to leave the warmth of their tent. So we continued on. We thought that it was another 8-10 hours to the CP. The camera men said it was at least 15. It took us 28 more hours!
We headed up and looked for the stream that we were to follow up to the saddle. Darkness fell and we were once again going down and up steep ravines looking for the correct drainage. Jon was leading the way, X had entered his zombie state, I was using every last bit of energy to get up those steep ravines, and Jayson was babysitting me and X. Jon had to break out the rope again to get us up a super steep section. It was getting a bit hairy and we were all pretty tired so around 2:00am we finally decided to set up our tent and wait for daylight. With fatigue setting in and darkness diminishing our navigation abilities, setting up the tent was the right thing to do.
Now in adventure racing, there is fine line between carrying the lightest tent and sleeping bag possible that will “pass” the gear check-- and carrying a functional tent and sleeping bag that will actually really protect you from the elements. Unfortunately we leaned towards the “light and fast” option. The four of us barely fit in the tent. We had to carefully get into the tent one at a time and we had to lie sideways and spoon each other very tightly in order to fit. Jon was the only one who brought a winter sleeping bag. The other three of us brought small and light bags and not one of us brought a sleeping pad. Bad, bad moves!
This was the first test our “air pumped” tent would get. We were forced to set it up on a slant, we left our wet outer layer of clothes outside, and the four of us piled into the tent. I took a very strong (I won’t say what) pain pill so that I could fall asleep and not feel the aches and pains I was sure to start having since we stopped moving. The pill must have worked because I did manage to get about 2.5 hours of sleep. Except for the one interruption;… because we were on a slant, Jon, Jayson and I slid down on top of X. We all had to get out of the tent, set it back upright correctly and get back in. Now that doesn’t sound too difficult, but when it’s 37 degrees outside, and its raining, and the clothes you are wearing are wet, and your feet are sore and swollen, believe me…it is difficult,,,painful even! So we get back in, sleep until daylight, then proceed with the ritual that ends up being one of the hardest components of the entire race! ……GETTING OUT OF THE TENT AND PUTTING OUR COLD, WET CLOTHES BACK ON! This is what I hated the most.
With the help of daylight, we are able to find our drainage and continue up, over and then down the valley. More bushwacking, some peat bogs, logs to climb over, river crossings, bushwacking, Calafate thorns, peat bogs, bushwacking, river, bushwacking, Calafate thorns….did I mention bushwacking? We ran out of food around 5pm and still had a ways to the CP. I was popping all the E-Caps vitamins I had just to get some sort of nutrition in my body. We happened to run into a logging road that was headed in the right direction and it was clear of trees and bushes. We hadn’t seen a true road, not even the slightest of paths, the entire trek so I thought it was too good to be true. But we followed it for a while and then finally found a fire road and took it in towards the CP. The road was long and my feet hurt so much from the pounding. My Injinji socks cradle my feet so nicely that they actually felt really good through then, with no complaints of blisters. They were just really sore from the pounding on the road. Around 11pm, 52 hours after we started, we hit the beach and found an old abandoned farm house that served as the CP. The staff was there waiting for us with our food bag and some information.
We were in last place. Spain and Canada had passed through which was no surprise. But we were very surprised to hear that Chile and South Africa had passed through as well. Turns out Chile and South Africa took an alternate route that was a bit longer but was on fire roads. They did not bushwack through the forest or coasteer the lake like we did and that allowed them to make up about 12 hours on us. Now I believe this to be the fault of the organization. They highly recommended that the teams follow the directions they gave us. However, it was not MANDATORY to follow those directions. So, therefore, the Chileans used their local knowledge and the South Africans used their brains and tagged along with the Chileans along the faster route. Who could blame them? Oh well. Right after that trek, the Chilean woman and the South African woman both ended up pulling out of the race so we were in third place anyway.
Of course this house had no electricity and no running water so we ate and ate by light of our headlamps and the camp stove. We ate ravioli with Chilean Pringles, crackers with mac and cheese, “cat food,” cookies, and Coke. Yes, I said “cat food.” During our grocery shopping, Jayson and I found some pop-top cans of assorted meats in tomato sauce and for some reason, during the race, they had no labels. So we had no idea what we were eating but these very tasty meals became affectionately known as “cat food.” I think it was Jon’s favorite as he always lit up with a sparkle in his eye whenever we opened up a can. We settled into an empty room and Jon was snoring away in his cozy sleeping bag. Jayson was fixing his very blistered feet. They looked so bad that I wished so much that I could help him. Having had feet like that during my first PQ, I knew how badly he was hurting but all I could do was watch him perform surgery and offer him Ibuprofen. X and I were hovering over our camping stove. I took another “magic pill” and was able to sleep on the hard floor for about 6 hours with only a little pain in my hip flexors and feet.
Now I never mentioned this to the boys, but at this point I did not want to do the 5 day trek. The last 2 day trek was enough for me. I had seen more peat bogs, more thorny bushes, more trees, more logs, and more icy rivers then I ever wanted to see in Patagonia. And I was so over it! I was not having fun. I was truly looking forward to a long kayak so that I could sit in a boat for a very, very long time. I wanted to be forced to sit in a boat for so long that in fact I would beg to do a 5 day trek. That was the only way I thought that I would be able to do the trek. But I didn’t say a word. I went into automatic pilot again and I continued with the business of preparing for the next leg. I guess this is one time when experience really did help me continue.
5 Day Trek into the wild with no signs of human presence
Sat, Feb 18: The staff woke us up around 8am and said that the Chilean Navy would be there shortly to take us to the next trek. Once again there would be no kayak. No time to sit in a boat and let our feet rest. No time to sit on our butts for hours and hours and wish that we could be back on our feet. Nope, no kayak. We would immediately be taken to the 5 DAY TREK! As we put on our dirty, nasty clothes and gathered our gear and food, I notice a bunch of groceries in one of the other rooms. I inquired about it and Claudio (race staff) said it was his and that I could take as much as I wanted. Well, I was not shy! Having run out of food on the 2 day trek, I did not want to run out on a 5 day trek so I took 2 full grocery bags full of his food. (Muchisimas gracias Claudio!) We boarded the Navy ship for the 2.5 hour trip.
The Navy guys were so helpful. They immediately took my dirty, wet clothes to their engine room to hang and dry. Then they gave us full access to their galley with the stove and dishes. I proceeded to cook us some pasta, while Jayson fixed his feet, and X and Jon made some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the trek. We ate and then we meticulously prepared 5 days worth of food for the trek. We divided all of our groceries on the table into categories; gels, bars, meats, candies, cookies, crackers, Alpine Aire, MREs, supplement powders, “shampoo nuts”, etc. (My shampoo leaked all over my Ziploc bags of peanuts and gave them a “clean” taste). We prepared 5 separate food bags which we’d allow ourselves to eat each day and we would not steal from the other days’ bags. So we prayed that the trek would not take us longer than 5 days. We were each assigned a bag (Jon had two) to carry and distribute. Needless to say, our Gregory packs were heavier than ever!
The Navy guys transferred us from their ship to the Zodiac boat that dropped us on the shore of the Brunswick Peninsula. They left us on the beach, said “Bye, good luck,” and then they were gone. So there we were; the 4 of us, with no one and nothing but the Patagonian wilderness in sight. We went around the corner and saw an old, abandoned cabin so we went to see if anyone was there waiting for us. Maybe the staff was there to provide us with additional safety information? Maybe they were there with extra food in case we didn’t have enough? Maybe they were there to see us off and wish us well? NOPE! Nobody was there. The Navy guys were the last people we saw and this cabin was the last sign of human presence we would encounter for 5 days!
We filled our water bladders with Hammer Heed and water from the river and started trekking. We decided that we would trek for about 16 hours each day and then put up the tent and sleep at night. It was so cold and hard to navigate at night that this seemed like the right decision. We also had an eating and resting regimen in place. I was in charge of scheduling our 5 minute snack breaks and our 15 minute lunch breaks. I decided we would stop every 2.5 to 3 hours for a break. So every time we carried on, I would announce our next break time. For me this trek was no longer a countdown of days, but a countdown of hours between breaks. These breaks became my immediate goals. On the first day of this long trek I remember telling myself out loud, “just make it to 5 o’clock, just make it to 5 o’clock” because that was our next break and I was very much looking forward to my ration of 12 “shampoo nuts” and 4 cookies. And then I would announce our next break at 7:45 and I would make it my goal to reach my next ration of 2.5 slices of salami and 4 Sharkies (gummy bears). Yes, that’s how it went for 5 days. Trek,,, stop for a snack that was rationed into 4 parts, take a 3 minute nap. Trek,,, stop for lunch, a bag of Alpine Aire dehydrated food made with cold river water, nap for 8 minutes. And so on and so on. We found that Alpine Aire foods were perfect for this race. They were light, easy to carry, full of calories, and there was no need for hot water. Thirty minutes before it was time for lunch, Jayson would fill the bag with river water and let it sit and moisten until it was time to eat. Then we’d each take two spoonfuls and pass the bag around. If there was any left, we’d take another spoonful each, and if there was any left, we’d take a half a spoonful each, and if there was any residue left in the bag, someone would finish every last bit! Jayson’s MREs were also a big hit. Although they were a bit heavy to carry, they were a very welcome HOT meal. Again, Jayson used the river water to initiate the heating component that would warm the food and 20 minutes later we had a hot meal. But I must admit that the best things I ate in those eleven days were 2 spoonfuls of plain peanut butter and a half a bag of very salty olives. And I don’t even like olives!
We started the 5 day trek with about 15km (9 miles) of peat bog before we hit the forest. The peat bog was not nice. Imagine walking on soaking wet, fluffy pillows for miles and miles. It was like doing a million knee high stair steps with the occasional bog that sucked your entire leg down into it. A bog or two sucked me down like quick sand. I could imagine the news back to my family when I did not return. “Uuuhhh, Bernice didn’t make it back because she was swallowed whole by Peat the Bog and he just wouldn’t spit her back out!” (The things you have time to imagine when you’re alone with your thoughts for 11 days.)
After only 5 hours into the 5 days, we reached the beginning of the bushwacking forest. We stopped for a snack break and a “heart to heart.” Jon and X were moving quite well, but Jayson and I were a bit slower and we were all concerned that at our pace, we might not make it in 5 days. I had to speak up and let my true feelings be known.
“Guys, I’m going to just let it all out. I hate this! I’m not having fun. This really sucks! I’ve trekked for 18 hours and another 52 and I have seen more peat bogs and more bushy, thorny forests than I ever hoped to see in Patagonia! I don’t want to continue. I’d rather take a tour and see some penguins and whales from a warm boat. I’ve got nothing to prove to anyone and I don’t care about finishing this race! ……How do you feel?”
Well, each guy had his turn to speak and they all said the same thing. They agreed that it was hard, that we were moving slowly, that they hated the bogs and bush as much as I did, that we might run out of food, that it would be cold, and that we would be miserable. However, they all came here to complete this race and they were not going to quit now! Aaarrrrggghh!!! Why didn’t one of them flinch? Oh, yes, I remember now why I came here with these guys. It was because I knew not one of them would quit. It was because I trusted them with my life. I knew that no matter what, they would always take care of me and each other. And they would do whatever it took to finish this race. Oh yeah, that’s right. That’s why I’m here with them. That’s why they didn’t flinch.
OK then. Here was my response.
“Fine. Then I want you to know that I will not quit. I came here with the commitment to you that I would finish this race and that’s what I will do. But I’m only doing this for you three guys! I’m not doing this for me or for anyone else! Only for you! And I’ve never cried in front of you before, but you need to be prepared to see me cry because I hate this!!! OK?”
So like perfect gentlemen, they picked me up and shoved me ahead with the understanding that I was allowed to cry all I wanted. J
Cry number one (of four) came just a few hours later. (Sorry guys!) I was dragging behind and just not feeling well at all. I think I was not only physically but also mentally exhausted. And the thought of 5 days of this was weighing heavily on my mind. So I shamefully asked the guys if they would take some of the weight out of my pack. I cried because I felt badly for asking them to take my stuff. They were already carrying heavy packs and I didn’t want to make them carry more. But I just couldn’t keep up. X took my food bag and Jon took some of my clothes and that really helped a lot. I was re-energized and able to keep up a little better.
Around 10pm, X and Jon set up our tent on relatively flat but soggy ground while Jayson cooked up some MREs. We huddled together, had a delightful dinner, left our wet clothes outside and squeezed into the tent. While Jon snored away in his warm sleeping bag, Jayson, X, and I took turns holding the camp stove to keep warm. With our thin bags and the condensation in the tent forming puddles, we were cold, wet and miserable all night long. As the sun rose, Jon awoke from his pleasant slumber and proclaimed that he had barely gotten any sleep. We were appalled! We explained to him how he snored for hours and hours while we jealously shivered by the tiny stove! We exited the tent and endured the agonizing ritual of putting on our cold and wet clothes.


Day two of this trek was to be the hardest. We had to climb up and over several mountain passes. We could see the passes but unfortunately they were pretty far from each other and there were some very steep valleys to be traversed in between. Once again Jon and X had little problems going down and then back up the steep valleys. I studied their steps and tried to follow them but at times I just couldn’t reach. One particularly hazardous climb, I was scrambling up and the rocks became loose under my feet and I started sliding down. I finally stopped, held my breath and waited for Jayson to come from behind and help me up. He did, I made it out, and then I cried (cry number two for those keeping track).
We were up and over two of the three passes when it began to hail on us. We decided to descend one pass sooner than the race directions advised because it was getting dark and we didn’t want to be stuck up on the mountain with the storm coming through. We hurried down but had to retreat back up a little because we were cliffed out. We managed to get down most of the way when the sun set and I was getting really, really cold. We had paused for a bit while Jon and X discussed our route and I was shivering like crazy. But then I stopped shivering and then I felt warm. I knew this was not a good thing. (Cry number three!) So I said to Jayson, “Jay, it’s bad when I’m so cold that I feel warm, right?” Then Jay turned to the guys and said, “Hey we need to do something now. Either get moving or put up the tent, but we need to get her warm.” They knew we were about to cross a river so they decided it would be better if we set up the tent and wait to do the river crossing in the morning. They started setting up the tent as I shivered and cried. The crying actually made me feel a lot better and a little bit warmer. So I cried harder. J Then, when things couldn’t possibly get worse, our tent popped!!! We had a tent that didn’t use poles; instead it used two inflatable tubes and one of the tubes popped! Jayson took out the camp stove so that I could hover over it while they fixed the tent. They got it fixed, helped me take off my wet layers and put me in the tent with the stove. I warmed up and felt better. Then we returned to our nightly pattern. Jon snored away while Jay, X, and I used the stove to keep warm and tried not to burn ourselves or the tent. But X did fall asleep and singed his eyelashes. Jay burned his fingers as he held them over the fire and I had to pass the stove off when I caught myself dropping it.
Morning finally came and once again the torturous ritual. This was my final and most dramatic cry. As it snowed outside, I crawled out of the tent and put on my clothes. I whimpered loudly as I put each leg through my freaking freezing, wet pants. And I didn’t care how loud or how dramatic my crying and whimpering was. It literally hurt to put my clothes, socks, and shoes on. It hurt so much that I whimpered and cried louder and louder because it helped me to get it done. When the torture was over we headed down towards the river, I composed myself and stopped the outrageous girly behavior. A little later X admitted that if he wasn’t a dude, he’d have been crying too. That made me smile.

Hallucinations come in many forms and since day two of this entire race, I’d been hearing music. It’s happened before and I’ve come to expect it. I hear choirs chanting, Elvis rocking, kids singing “Old McDonald had a farm,” and many other songs. Sometimes these songs stay with me for hours and hours and I get tired of them so I sing my own. X, Jay, and Jon have had to endure my musical renditions of “The Devil Went Down to Georgia, Hotel California, Billy Ray was a Preacher’s Son, Paul Revere, El Rey,” a couple of other Spanish songs, some country, and the entire soundtrack to “Grease.” But just like food, entertainment on the trail is scarce so you take what you can get. We all had a healthy supply of caffeine pills to keep us awake when the sleepmonsters attacked, but the hallucinations didn’t retreat. Many times I felt like there were people walking with us. For quite some time I felt sure that there was a woman walking with me. I couldn’t tell if it was my mother or someone else, but there she was beside me.
We trekked through the day and once again nightfall hit as we were about to do a river crossing. We were on a “field of soggy dreams” when we set up camp. I was feeling good because the night was clear, the stars were shining brightly and there appeared to be no rain in the forecast. Jon and X put up the tent while Jay and I searched for firewood. Jay was intent upon starting a fire and I had my heart set on it too. He meticulously put together the driest pieces of ember he could find, used the Dermatone sunscreen to ignite it, and built us a cozy little fire under the gorgeous, star filled Patagonian sky. He was my hero! I stood by the fire for quite sometime trying to dry my pants, dry my socks, and dry my sleeping bag. It was getting colder and we were running out of firewood but neither of us wanted to leave the heat. After drying our three wimpy sleeping bags, we retreated to another night in the ice box; Jay, X, and I with the stove, freezing our butts off, while Jon snored away. It was my turn to hold the stove while X slept for a little while. I had to find a way to stay awake so I let Jay provide me with the entertainment. He spoke gibberish. I’d ask him questions and he’d respond with some very off the wall answers. Sometimes I understood his words although they were entirely out of context. And sometimes he’d just speak in some unknown tongue. I was amused for a while but then woke X up for his turn to hold the stove. Daylight came with the dreaded ritual and this time I just had to laugh. Because there was no rain that night, I had hung my clothes and backpack to dry in the trees. But the clear, crisp night produced a freeze and now my clothes and shoes were frozen solid. I literally had to break the ice to get my pants on. My shoes wouldn’t even go on my feet until I walked on them for a while and let the ice melt.
The day went by like the rest. Through the forest, down the valley, through the cold river, up the valley, search for our field of dreams, and make it to our next snack break. Later that evening we finally saw the Straight of Magellan ahead of us! We could see the other side of the peninsula and we were excited. It was still a ways, but we could see it and that was enough to put a pep in my step. Amazingly, my feet were still doing fine with no major blisters to speak of. Jay’s feet, on the other hand, were toast! I honestly don’t know how he was walking. But I did what I could to help him. I handed him my trekking pole to use when we crossed the peat bogs and then took it out of his way when we got tangled up with bushwacking. I told him stories to keep his mind off his feet and I gave him a few of my “magic” pills. Jon and X were carrying heavy loads and despite their aches and pains, were still moving strong. Jay was mentally strong to keep going and all three of them provided constant entertainment in some fashion.
The last night of our 5 day journey, we pushed through without setting up the tent. We knew that we needed to make up some ground and none of us cared to spend another frozen, sleepless night in the tent. We bushwacked and went over and under so many moss covered logs. I knew this was going to be a long night and I just wanted to tune it out. So I did. I was about to switch to automatic pilot when one of the guys asked me a question. I responded with, “Guys, please don’t pay attention to me. I’m switching to automatic pilot so I’m just going to keep quiet and follow you. I’m not observing, I’m not thinking, I’m only moving forward. Just keep an eye on me and make sure I’m still following. See you in the morning.” And that was it. I followed miserably for hours and hours through the cold, wet night. I did get awakened twice, however. The first time, I heard a little dog barking. It was a curious little bark and when I awoke from my zombie state I assumed that I must have been hallucinating. But then I heard the bark again and it was coming from up above in the tree. It was a gorgeous white owl; just perched up in the tree about 5 feet over my head. He stared at me and blinked with his giant eyes. I took a moment to admire him and then I switched back to automatic pilot. The next time I was awakened was when X stopped, turned towards us, and proclaimed, “Dude, I don’t know what I’m doing but I sure am having fun!” Jayson was right behind him and he said, “Yeah, me too!” Now two things bothered me about this situation. First of all, X was leading us and I was a bit concerned to hear that he had no idea what he was doing. Were we even headed in the right direction? Secondly, how the hell where both Jay and X having fun??? This sucked! The giant logs we crawled over and under were full of moss, we were completely soaked and it was so cold! We hadn’t slept for days, we didn’t have enough food to stop my stomach from growling every 20 minutes and my freaking feet were getting raw. Oops, wait a minute! Stop the inner turmoil and turn on the automatic pilot. And so I did, and on I went, without a word; me and the lady right next to me.
As it neared morning, we all willed the sun to come out so that we could find our way out of this messy forest and back to our field of dreams. We weren’t quite out of the mess yet when I had to stop because of blisters. This was the first time my feet screamed for help and I was glad that we were nearing the end. I covered them with duct tape, we ate a little breakfast and then continued on towards a clearing in the forest.
This last day of trekking was my most painful. My automatic pilot setting seemed to have taken a toll on my feet and now I was walking like Jayson. We both hobbled through the day. But finally, around 4:00pm, we made it to the Straight of Magellan! We were on the beach with an incredible view of the island and the snow capped peak across the fiord. We found the first trail we had seen in 5 days. We followed it for about 4km (3mi) up the coast until we reached the first “real” people we had seen since the Chilean Navy dropped us off on the other side of the peninsula. The two staff guys were camped on the beach waiting for us for several days. They had no idea when we’d be there and they were very happy to see us. They shared some food with us and radioed to headquarters that we had arrived. We still had 20km to finish this trek, but we were thrilled to be out of the forest and on the beach. After stuffing my face with pasta, cookies and Chilean carmel butter spread, I fell asleep with my face in the sand. The guys woke me up to some good news. The staff notified us that we would only trek for 10km (6mi) more to the lighthouse hostel. We would rest there for the night, wake up and kayak 10km to the final bike leg. Jayson and I were more than relieved to hear that we only had to subject our feet to torture for 10 more kilometers. We gathered our gear and started up the beach.


By now we had realized that NOTHING was easy in Patagonia. The so called “easy walk” on the beach to the hostel was severely painful. The babyhead rocky beach caused Jay and I more pain then the peat bogs. We carefully took each step as we slowly moved forward towards the end of our journey. We all took in the magnificent views, saw the dolphins playing in the water nearby, and picked up some beautiful shells. Daylight once again turned to night as we neared the lighthouse. We were very low on food with still a couple of hours to go. I was sleepwalking again and Jon was watching out for me. X was also out of it and Jay was staying with him. I heard X grunt and groan at one point, but I just kept walking in my zombie state. Later I found that he had taken a nasty fall and almost broke his jaw on a rock. But luckily we all made it in one piece to the base of the lighthouse hill. The trail led up to the lighthouse and Jon followed it. I followed another trail towards a big shaggy dog. I have no idea why I went towards him as he was scary and had crazy eyes! But there I went until Jon came back to get me and he led me up the hill. We reached the lighthouse and found no one. X and I stayed seated at the front door and continued knocking while Jon and Jay investigated around the building. There was no one there. Soon after, the dog came up the trail and was staring at us. Jon said, “I think he wants us to follow him.” So we did and he led us down the hill and on the other trail. When shaggy dog knew we were going the right way, he turned around and disappeared. Around midnight we found a very nice brand new building that looked like a hostel but there were no lights and no signs of presence. We looked around but found no one. We knocked and knocked and no one came out. I was becoming disillusioned. Then we heard something and there they were. The staff was inside the building with their headlamps, sleeping bags, and a nice fireplace. WE MADE IT! We finished that freaking long, hard, cold, insane, five day trek of survival across the peninsula. And now we could rest inside a building.
OK, so we were inside a building but there were no beds, no lights, no heater. The staff fired up their camp stoves and made us some pasta. We ate and ate and then we got out of our wet layers and sat by the fireplace. I was drying my sleeping bag so close to the fire that I thought I had burned it a couple of times. Jayson cleaned up his feet and then sat in his bag, dozing off by the fire. X kept eating and Jon fell asleep. Jay, X and I were positioned by the fire and we were not going away from it. Jay and I did manage to get away to gather some firewood because there was no way we were going to let that fire die through the night. I was eyeing some of the old mattresses and sleeping pads that the staff had, but there were no extras and they were all sleeping too far from the fire so I didn’t even bother trying to squeeze in next to them. As the sun rose, I noticed one of the staff was up and off his mattress. When he returned, he saw me eyeing it and he gave it to me. I positioned it right in front of the fire place and Jay, X and I squeezed on to this single mattress. It was the best 30 minutes of sleep I had in 10 days!
Our gear bags arrived around 9am. We finally got out of the Ibex clothes we wore for 5 days and we got the opportunity to use our new NRS and Sealskinz kayak clothing. We paddled on the Straight of Magellan for about 2 hours and the camera crews took lots of photos. We witnessed some magnificent views and enjoyed the penguins playing in the water around us. We arrived at the bike transition and dove into our food bag. This would be our last meal of ravioli, crackers, cookies, coke, Hammer gels, Pro Bars, ding dongs, and “cat food.” We mounted our bikes and rode the last 3.5 hours to the finish line.


The ride was relatively easy. But remember, nothing is easy in Patagonia, so we made it more difficult by falling asleep on our bikes. We had to stop for a pee, snack, and caffeine pill break just to make it through. As we entered the town of Punta Arenas, motorcycle cops cleared our path. We circled the town square and reached “LA META!” The goal, the finish! The entire race staff, the other teams, and some curious Chileans were cheering for us. The champagne flowed, the cameras clicked, the interviews started, and the hugs of congratulations flourished. We finished in 3rd place in the longest race in PER history. 11 days and 11 hours after we started this adventure, we had finished; but more importantly--we survived.
In summary, the Patagonia Expedition Race was the most physically and mentally taxing thing I have ever done. I thought that I had reached my limit and I was ready to quit. But my teammates kept me going. We entrusted each other with our lives and took care of each other along the way. We made new friends and shared experiences that will never be duplicated. We faced each challenge head on and we conquered them one at a time. I am so happy to have had this experience and if I were to die right now, you can be assured that I have really lived.
FINALLY…..THE END.