Part 1: Getting there is half the fun (okay, maybe a quarter of it)
I wasn’t really sure where I should begin this post (or what
will soon be, this group of postings) which are meant to chronicle the
incredible events of the days and week past, mainly the 2012 Cabot Trail Relay, but
given the vast importance of disseminating this experience for all, I shall
attempt to capture the amazing moments and memories that for me will certainly last
a lifetime (and perhaps longer now in electronic version). This first of three postings
will detail the events leading up to the race (the build), followed by a post
on the events of the race itself (all 17 legs) and conclude with a posting on
the post-race festivities and outcomes (the most glorious leg 18!).
So let’s go back and start at the ‘beginning’…
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| On 29 November 1986 in a small town in rural Ontario... |
The journey began last Thursday (24 May) when I left my new
home of less than a week (I am temporarily living at Casa Doyle Pellerin for
the summer) and Doyle and I took a cab to the Toronto city airport to depart
for Halifax (kudos to Fly Porter for being an awesome and super convenient airline).
We arrived to a beautiful day and spent it visiting Michael’s family and
friends in and around the Halifax area. The day concluded with a wonderful
steak dinner (iron loading?) which was the best meal I had had in ages. Things
were looking good so far…
On Friday, we didn’t need to be at the airport until 1 to
meet up with the others so the morning was spent relaxing and chatting whilst
generally getting excited for what was to come. We arrived just in time to see
our fellow comrades and so it was that the Black Lungs (minus one Mr Smith)
were all together in Nova Scotia and ready to take on the trail.
After a minor delay signing papers (too many illegal immigrants
on our team (Davey, Hiddleston and the Belg)), we were able to secure the
rental of two massively monstrous and matching SUVs (burgundy Ford Expeditions)
which made us look more like a team of tornado chasers than road runners
(perhaps overcompensating for our lean and slender (read skinny and gangly)
running bodies).
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| Darren must have been driving! |
We loaded our things into the gas guzzling and earth expunging
behemoths and then went for a quick lunch at the airport where we met a
majority of the other, mostly Longboat, team (Cardio Arrest) who had also just
arrived. A traitor amongst them provided us with a (laced?) batch of delicious
oatmeal ‘monster’ cookies for our journey and so with our bellies full and our
brains on high, we departed on the ~4hr journey to Cape Breton Island and our
destination for the day: Baddeck, NS.
After a not so brief shopping stop in Truro for groceries… You’d
think that a bunch of grown men would know how to navigate a grocery store and
buy a few simple foodstuffs to sustain themselves for a day or two. Apparently
not! Without their wives, they were about as useful as a Ski-doo in a swimming
pool (I'm terrible at analogies) and we were even considering sending out an
Amber Alert when Rob C didn't come back after almost an hour (and had only bought bananas)!
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| Lost in Atlantic Superstore. Forget 'Where's Waldo'? Where the heck is Rob Campbell? |
...a coordinated
roadside pi(t)ss-stop, terrible techno music and some of the most beautiful scenic driving I have ever done, we arrived in Baddeck around 6pm and were all too happy to
create some much needed distance between ourselves and the already increasingly foul smelling SUVs (the cookies
perhaps?!).
We checked into our hotel, drew keys to determine sleeping
arrangements (some would need to partner up for the evening) and then rather
than to go for a run, Capt. Campbell took a much longer route than necessary to
the liquor store where we stocked up on final necessities (not really needed
until Sunday but with the LC closed on the holy day, we would need to buy in
advance). We then hung around a bit and eventually made our way to a local pub
where we were joined by our final teammate, Mr Guy Smith (who came all the way
from Vancouver for this… sorta), making us the 11 disciples at the ‘last supper’
(most of us had the spaghetti).
The last item on the days agenda was a trip to the local Fire
hall to size up fellow Cabot teams and have a final beverage while enjoying
some traditional East Coast song and dance. A curfew was in place for us ‘Lungs’
so we called it a night relatively early and settled in to get some much needed
rest.
Tomorrow would begin the busiest of days and we were yet to
know what incredible adventure was to come…
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| Bring on the Cabot Trail... |
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