Training Log Archive: Swampfox

O' running at Remarkable Flats. Oddly, there seemed to be an incredible number of mountain bikers out today in this otherwise usually quite desolate area. I tried hard to focus, and I would get my concentration back, and then there would be another mountain biker showing or, or 3 or 4. Very weird.

But I can't really blame mountain bikers, can I? It is the task and duty of the orienteer to remain in razor sharp focus from start to finish, no matter what, or else lose time. I'm sure I dropped 5-10 seconds three times--simply inexcusable.

And then, when I was done and it seemed like the day was done taking strange turns, I ran into racer X8A7. He was eating a dragonfly, one wing at a time, and he had been out training at Pelican Bay. We talked for a bit, and there were even more mountain bikers as we spoke. Some of the mountain bikers looked quite beat and spent; I think they perhaps required more training so that they could handle the disabling breezes of Remarkable Flats.

C • Laramie Enduro 2

Something most wouldn't know: the horse portrayed in the iconic Wyoming state image of a cowboy on a bucking bronco is thought to be the infamous "Steamboat". But the horse used in the iconic Laramie Range Orienteering Club is modeled after another horse altogether: Crazy Horse.

In tribute to Peter Gagarin's Day 3 triumph at Oringen, I present the following photo from the archives (approximate photo date was late July, 1978, or, in other words, almost exactly 36 years ago):

From publiken

Here the legendary Peter (winner, M70, Day 3, 2014 Oringen in Skåne, Sweden) is receiving punching instruction from the legendary Göran Öhlund (World Relay Champion 1966, 1968); you can see that Peter is holding a pin punch (state of the art technology at the time) in his hand. Göran is holding one of his sons, who was understandably quite alarmed at Peter's wolfman-like appearance.

The instruction that day had been going very well so far with tips about which direction the north needles in compasses point, shoelace knotting, and the importance of carrying the map in the hand and not in the pocket.

But it was about to take a turn: just moments after this photo was taken Peter received the devastating news that if he wanted to become a real orienteer, he would need to drop the lumberjack look.

Afterwards, Göran told me (to this day the words are as indelibly inscribed in my brain as if I had heard them only moments ago): "That man is a right quick learner; I do believe that if he eats his Wheaties, cuts his hair, and works at it for 35 or 36 years, he might just be able to win a day at Oringen." A prescient observation if there ever were one!

C • What a fine looking photo. ... 1

O' training at Pitcher Hill, roughly mid-day. If the idea was to get out and do some running in the sunniest and warmest part of the day (which it was), then I succeeded. At one point while I was running, my mind wandered from the navigation tasks at hand and I thought about how thankful I am that I don't have to live in Houston. If lived in Houston, I would probably have to spend most of the day sitting on giant ice cubes, just to keep form over-heating too badly.

But in the next moment, I hit something with one foot and was falling down--that's what you get for thinking about what it would be like to run during the Houston summer! I did a little tumble and just laughed at myself for being clumsy, shook off the grass seeds, and started running, no worse for wear except for a little sweat that brimmed out from my hat and ended up on one hand.

Except that when I looked down to check my direction, I realized it wasn't sweat at all. It wasn't blood either, so that was good. It was compass housing fluid, so that was not good. Another one bites the dust. Funny, I had used my previous training compass for 2+ decades before finally breaking it 2 years ago at the inaptly named Rainbow Falls, while this replacement had been just barely used (a lot of the local training I do without a compass.)