Orienteering race (Green F45) 1:20:51 [3] 6.4 km (12:38 / km)
Had trouble finding #3 (195), shallow reentrant, and hidden behind one of the downed trees. Lost a few minutes. Lost more minutes 11-12 when I decided I would try to cross the stream in the little place where the black lines stopped, but I couldn't see the bottom so I wimped out and went around.
Orienteering race (Blue M21) 3:27:06 [3] 13.78 km (15:02 / km)
Same problem at #13 (226) - shallow reentrant and control hidden behind a downed tree. Had to relocate from the road. I should not have discounted the downed-tree symbols so much. I should have read the contours better. I should have spent less time afterward imagining Vlad setting the controls there, cackling with evil Rasputin-like laughter. Because in fact, I'm very grateful to Vlad for making this weekend happen, and the course was so fine.
11-12: spent a bunch of time before this leg deciding what to do here (straight, road or river). The short climb to 11 was enough to convince me to take the path along the river, which turned out to be lovely to run on and quite scenic. After all, I figured, I'm not in this to win, and I've got the time. And I thought it would be pretty safe navigationally, come in along the creek, and it was.
Didn't meet my goal of twice the winner's time, but I'm happy about maintaining 15 min/km.
Note
Abcdef. Decided against counting the two - what are they called - shot bloks? shock blobs? - as transgressive sugar. Because I was eating them while navigating on the first three controls, so I used them for good, not evil. Would not do this again though, two at once; kind of awkward to talk to the starting guy.
And the A is for a glass of cabernet sauvignon, accompanying a remarkably tasty linguini with veggies & salad ordered from room service, all of which I decided I "deserved" after the weekend's orienteering.
Today I learned from Kurt Vonnegut that Abraham Lincoln had this to say about James Polk (who, as president, waged war on Mexico, which had never attacked us):
Trusting to escape scrutiny, by fixing the public gaze upon the exceeding brightness of military glory -- that attractive rainbow, that rises in showers of blood -- that serpent's eye, that charms to destroy -- he plunged into war.
Funny how stuff from the "old days" sometimes seems to so be relevant now. And boy, that Lincoln liked his em dashes, eh? Vonnegut says not to use semicolons, because they are "transvestite hermaphrodites representing absolutely nothing"; however, he apparently has no problem with em dashes.
Eric, are you out there? What's the name of the AP person whose blog you recommended?