Dion Winter Goose Chase Snowshoe Race - Sunday, February 2nd, 2020

This nearly wasn't a thing.

But I'm so happy it was!

All race-week long, we'd been on tenterhooks waiting to see if enough snow would materialize to make this a snowshoe event rather than just a trail run. I ran twice on Saturday, and couldn't find anything I'd really want to run on in snowshoes.

Lumpy, footprinted ice and a bit of snow on the Walter Bean Trail in the morning

It started to snow late in the day, but there's still no proper coverage down by the Grand River by sunset
(when this photo was taken on run #2)

Just after finishing the second run, I got an email from Race Director Lisa - miraculously enough, they'd been able to find 5km+ of snow-covered trails at Shade's Mills! The snowshoe race was ON!

Then, because Lisa is apparently the Snow Queen or something, finding enough covered trail became a non-issue.

Arriving at Shade's Mills

A blizzard had arrived in the night, blanketing everything with fresh, fluffy flakes. It continued to fall after I awoke at 7:30am, braided my hair, and had my usual pre-race bowl of oatmeal. It furthermore kept up as I took full advantage of this being a local race by going the heck back to bed for a 30min nap.

I probably shouldn't have done that, but it was glorious.

Back out of bed at 8:45am, we were a little later than I'd hoped leaving the house (after slapping some tape on my ankles and cranky glute, and pulling on some clothes), and it rapidly became apparent that it would take us a wee bit longer than usual to get down to the race venue.

Not a day for speeding.

It was nearly 10am by the time we got there, and I was starting to panic about getting in a warm-up run - I don't bother at ultras because they're done at an easy enough pace that you can just warm up as you go, but this was going to be a redline effort and trying to do that cold is not an awesome idea. Fortunately, there was a very welcome sign in the Nature Centre when I wandered in to pick up my race kit.

HALLELUJAH!

I'd thought the start might have been pushed back due to weather - in order to allow everyone extra time to arrive safely - but it turned out it was actually because some people had gone and pulled out course markings the previous evening and some sections needed to be re-marked. People suck, but I was grateful for the extra time.

These fun soup bowls with matching broth spoons were our registration gift!

After my usual pre-run flailing of limbs, I strapped on my snowshoes and headed out of the Nature Centre to thrash my way through a few minutes of running, starting on the downhill to the beach (and the usual start line, though this year's was in a different location per the sign).

Note the huge flakes of snow still pelting down

Three loops of downhill - along the beach - back up to the path - up to the Nature Centre took me 5 minutes, and demonstrated clearly that the easiest way to get through this would be to start near the back of the pack and let all the fast people pack the snow down ahead of me. I wasn't at all sure how much my legs had in them anyway, so wouldn't want to get in the way of legitimate racers.

I downed an Endurance Tap gel and a few last sips of water 15mins before gun time, trying to quiet the voice in my head that was screaming at me to bring my phone along to take photos of the stunning winter wonderland. I didn't want to carry anything with me, or give myself any excuses to stop or walk; just go out and see what I was capable of.

I settled for taking this photo of the path that runs past the Nature Centre, then putting the phone away in my jacket.

With a few minutes to go I commenced meandering across the parking lots to the starting area by the pavilion, adding in a few easy running strides as I went to keep the legs loose. Gawd, a real warm-up and now this - what had I become?

Lisa and her husband Greg hid under the edge of the pavilion to avoid the worst of the snowfall while making the final pre-race announcements.

(Photo by Diane Livingston)

Greg admitted that due to the re-routes and having to re-mark the course that morning, he actually had no idea how long it was - his best guess was "more than 5k, but less than 30k", which got quite a laugh from all of us. Knowing it would be a single loop, that there's only about 11km of trails at Shade's Mills, and that finishing by the Nature Centre meant they were unlikely to use the Beach Trail on the far west side of the park, I estimated the maximum would probably be about 6km or so.

We lined up at the start facing the woods in near-whiteout conditions, and after a very simple "3-2-1-go!" we were off.

I'm somewhere in behind all the go-getters
(Photo by Diane Livingston)

Heading into the start of the trails, I was dazzled by the beauty of the snow-laden forest.

That's me in the mint green shirt & black tights toward the right
(Photo by Diane Livingston)

I had quite a lot of the field ahead of me when my legs suddenly decided to show up a couple of minutes in. I started passing where I could, but that cost me some energy as I'd have to run beside the single, less-than-two-foot-wide packed down track in the loose snow to get around people.

Definitely a no-passing zone
(I cannot guarantee all course photos will be in order)

There was also the minor issue that gusts of wind would create periodic avalanches off the trees overhead

Somewhere around the 1k mark (I think?), managing to look like I know what I'm doing
(Photo by Tony Martin)

I was able to run consistently over the gently undulating trails until about 1.8km, when I finally had to hike up a little steeper grade. I dropped to a walk up another hill around 2k, then managed to push for 500m before another hill threatened to make my heart explode.

Heart rate data from the morning.
I'm really not kidding about "redline effort"

Wide open winter wonderland

From 2.5km to 4.3km we looped around through the forest with constantly varying elevation, driving me repeatedly down to a hike as I began to seriously wonder if I'd gone out too hard and would end up just having to walk it in.

The tight turns also had me wondering if that wasn't my own butt I saw up ahead at one point..

Pine forested hills

Mixed hardwoods and rolling hills

I thought I must be gassing pretty badly, as people started to pass me as I struggled to control my breathing - the Death Whistle™ was in full effect, which I attempted to calm with deep, slow breaths and intentional exhales. 

More conifer-lined climbing

HOORAY FOR DOWNHILL!
Just watch you don't catch a cleat on a root..

I noticed some other people starting to struggle as well, though - while I managed to put in a decent half-kilometer stretch of running from 4.3-4.8k I saw a fellow who'd come trucking past me earlier drop to a walk on a flat stretch. I tried to gasp out an "are you ok?" but I'm not sure he heard me; he seemed to be moving ok, though, so I just kept on running.

It's always easier if you don't let your feet - or snowshoes - touch the ground.

A right turn at 4.8k brought a longer climb that I had to walk, but I was still able to push myself to run the flatter section in the middle. If there's one thing I can say I did fairly well with in this race, it was keeping the hiking breaks to a minimum; I was quite successful at just walking a few steps over the top/steepest part of a hill, then hurling myself back into a run as soon as it flattened out again.

*gasping*

Around the 5k mark we turned left onto the outside loop trail back toward the bridge, with a general downhill trend for the first quarter-kilometer and then a long, flat section. Since it was flat, I forced myself to keep running, though my foot turnover slowed as I still struggled to process enough oxygen to fuel my overtaxed legs. 

Hup! Hup! Hup!

Back through the cedars

Across the bridge once more

Back on the west side of Mill Creek, I expected to turn right and head up the long, gravelly climb known to Conquer the Canuck runners as "Rocky Road", but was instead directed left (south) to go back the way we'd come. This meant running past some of the most stunning views of the creek itself again, so I was ok with that. I managed to put together a full kilometer of running, too!

SO PRETTY

Less ok was having to tackle the hill I'd got to run down earlier, just a couple of hundred metres into the race. People ahead of me were running it, so I tried to silence the screaming of my legs and lungs and just focus on form...but had to walk again as it steepened near the top. For my efforts, though, I was able to inch by one more of the people who'd passed me earlier.

That made 2 down, and 2 probably out of reach.

Coming down the other side with the pavilion in view, we hooked a sharp right to head back uphill. Conquer the Canuck runners may recognize this as the final long, grassy downhill to the finish - it takes on a rather different character when doing it the other way 'round under a blanket of snow.

It looks fairly innocuous, but it's the longest climb on the course, and takes you to its highest point.

I managed to run the flatter sections at the bottom, drawing alongside another fellow who'd passed me earlier. We both had to hike a bit as it turned upward, then he began to pull away again as I stirred myself back into a run. He got away entirely as I had to hike the final 20m to the apex, then hit the left-hand turn to the downhill to the road crossing where Tanker was acting as marshal.

The road crossing is just visible at the wooden posts dead centre of this shot.

Tank snapped a photo as I gasped out "I LOVE YOU. DYING."

I knew from last year that I was very close to the finish now, so kept my foot on the gas as best I could. After crossing the road, you make a quick left turn and dive back into thick pine forest.

Much narrower than most of the trails in the park.

A little chicane, then a straightaway for maybe 100 metres, and then an oblique right straight into the finish area where the warmth of a roaring campfire is rivaled by the welcome of the amazing volunteers. We were given our finisher prize, and asked what distance our GPS watches recorded - I had 6.81km, which I guess must have been close to the average as the course was officially reckoned to be 6.8k.

Looking back up the finish chute

Official time: 50:47 for 6.8km @ 7:28/km

23/65 O/A - 8/35 Women - 4/17 W40-49

(Full official results here)

(Garmin workout data here)

This year featured awesome handmade wooden medallions for finishers!

I grabbed my jacket (with my phone in it to take these pics) and hung out around the fire for a bit to chat with volunteers and cheer other runners in, but as the snow had turned to rain it wasn't terribly pleasant being outside. So, I wandered back into the Nature Centre to indulge in one of the absolute best parts of this race - the incredible pancake brunch put on by the Cambridge Harriers! 

With gluten free/vegan available, loads of fresh fruit, stewed blueberries and maple syrup.
Oh, and a cup of life-giving coffee with dairy-free creamer.

I had no idea how I'd finished in relation to anyone except the few people I'd seen ahead and behind me, and figured I was in no danger of a podium with as slow as I felt I'd been on course. While sitting and chatting with people after the race, the awards ceremony began and I was gobsmacked to discover I'd been given 3rd place in my age group! 

Getting my awesome plaque from Race Director Lisa
Couple behind me: "Can you believe someone with an arse that big made the podium?"
"Heck, I can't believe she finished!"
(Photo by Diane Livingston)

The awards are so adorable - the logo is by Holly from Carrier Budge Card Company, who both sponsors and runs in the race!

Of course, it was only because the top woman overall - the ever-speedy Vicki Z. - is in my age group, and there was no duplication of awards. So, I don't really deserve it, but I'm still very grateful! Vicki had also won last year, which made her the Goose for this year's race; the top man is the Gander, and both Goose and Gander are given a free entry into the following year's race.

New for 2020 were capes to identify the Gander, Goose, Gosling (youngest competitor) and "Mother Goose" (the competitor with the most life experience, who in this case was a 68 year old fellow who beat me by more than 5mins!)

The Winter Goose Chase is always a wonderful experience - from the welcome of the volunteers at race pickup through venue, course marking, and post-race food & festivities, I can't think of a single thing upon which they could improve. The Cambridge Harriers do a really excellent job, and the beauty and variety of terrain at Shade's Mills offers something for everyone from folks who just want to come out for a lovely walk in their snowshoes to competitive racers who want to push their limits. Registration opens in August of each year, and there are 30 pairs of Dion snowshoes on offer for $10 on top of your entry fee if you'd like to try snowshoe racing without a big investment. Be aware though - the event sells out quickly (before the end of September this past year), and the snowshoes are snapped up even faster!

You should definitely come give it a try!

By the time the awards wrapped up, I'd caught a bit of a chill - I'd neglected to change out of the wet clothes I'd worn for the race, and all of the heat I'd generated by running had long dissipated. Everyone else packed up and headed home, but I'd hatched a plan; I wanted to get a second run in that afternoon anyway, and with the thick layer of snow it probably wasn't going to be any easier running the un-shoveled sidewalks around my neighbourhood than to go out and run the packed-down course, sans snowshoes. I threw on my spikes for traction, which I'd brought as the pre-race email recommended them for walking down to the start line before the snow fell and covered most of the ice, and brought my phone along for the ride.

Which also meant I could photos of the spectacular snow!

Like running in Narnia

While the course marking flags and arrows had all been picked up by the time I headed out, I was able to make my way 'round pretty well from the still-visible spray paint at the turns. I did cut a section off as I didn't really want to run the whole 6.8km again, but since I'd started right from the parking lots (running from there down to and past the pavilion), it came out pretty close in distance anyway. 

I was able to pick up a few marker flags that had been missed, and get them back to the race staff before they left.

Such a stunning day to be out in the woods!

So, that's #1 of 3 snowshoe races for this year (and month) in the bag. Just over 1 week now until the brand-new-for-2020 Flurry event put on by the wonderful folks at Happy Trails Racing - they opened up some additional slots after selling out very quickly, so why not snag one and give it a try? Hope to see you there!

We'll be there with bells on...or at least snowshoes!

A Grand Adventure

..with a LOT of silliness thrown in!

What a way to spend a few hours!

Back in April, I saw an article in the Cambridge Times about a new business that was just getting started in town called Tubing the Grand. For $35 per person (plus HST) they'd provide an inflatable "steerable kayak tube" with a paddle; a PFD (lifejacket); a drybag with a small towel, a rain poncho and a map of the Grand River; and transportation from their extraction point at the Cambridge Pollinator Preserve back to your vehicle at Moyer's Landing by the Blair bridge.

The fleet preparing to move out

The launch site is just down the hill from the house, and the ~7km section of river you traverse is one that I know like the back of my hand - I've run along it on both sides, on the Bob McMullen Linear Trail and Living Levee Trail to the East, and the Walter Bean Grand River Trail/RARE trails on the West. There are some features, though, that are impossible to see from the banks, so I relished the opportunity to take a look from a new perspective. It would also provide an unparalleled chance to scope out the river itself - I've had designs on using my stand-up paddleboard as transportation to Galt, but also had my doubts about the depth of the flow through town given my 10" fin.

Tanker was just in for some kicks!

We'd originally booked through their online system for Saturday at 2pm, knowing the forecast looked like rain but confident in their assertion we could cancel or re-schedule at any time without penalty. Friday evening I received an email stating the departure would likely be moved up to 11:30am to avoid thunderstorms, which wasn't ideal - I wanted to run down to the market Saturday morning and have a solid brunch after, and didn't want to have to get up at 5am to do so. I was told to watch my email around 9am Saturday, and I let them know we might well need to reschedule.

Launching just below the Blair bridge

When I got up Saturday morning, I woke Tanker up to discuss an alternative plan: we could drive down to the market, do a lightning shop, then come home for a quick brunch and take the 11:30am departure (though the weather wasn't looking great when I peered outside at 8am-ish). I could always run in the afternoon instead. Just as we'd decided, I got another email from Tubing the Grand offering a special evening departure at 6pm - PERFECT! I replied saying we were very much in, then got my butt in gear and did a total struggle bus run through sudden hot sunshine down to the market.

Down along the very section of river we'd paddle later that day

Around 5pm we packed up our gear - which included our own PFDs and drybag, because we'd rather use gear we know is comfortable and not coated in someone else's sweat - and some snacks, and headed down the hill to Moyer's Landing for about 5:30pm.

SO MUCH STOKE

We signed our waivers, got our "boats", and everyone got loaded up - we were on our way just after 6pm after a refreshing shower of rain passed through.

Clouds clearing

Placid water below the old Blair bridge foundation

Due to the current, you can mostly just float along...which is a pretty good deal, considering the tubes are probably the most ridiculous form of transportation I've ever used. Far wider than a kayak and with the sides coming up to ribcage level on my itty bitty torso, paddling was far from efficient! The construction of the tubes focused most of your weight in the very back, and there were very minimal fins on the bottom to provide tracking - your legs would swing back and forth as you paddled, even with pretty solid core strength. I've been paddling most of my life, and never had so much trouble getting a boat to move in a straight line! The back being wider than the front also meant the current was constantly trying to turn you around backwards, so the whole business was really quite goofy.

Tanker attempting directed forward motion

We'd been told that the rain on Friday (the storms that had moved our departure time never actually materialized) had raised the river level a full inch, but even at that we were less than a kilometer along before things got so shallow that the rocky bottom was getting a bit personal with my bum.

You can see here how low the rear of the boat sits in the water

RED LIGHT TOUCH

I was able to paddle my way through, but Tanker got stuck for a bit. One thing was certain - I would not be bringing my paddleboard through here any time soon! The riverbed was formed mostly of the same pocked dolomite rock that I knew so well from running the RARE trails, so I was happy we'd never tried to paddle our kevlar canoe down this way, either; it may be tough stuff, but I don't need to go repairing a bunch of abrasions in the hull.

We'd happily stick with the silly inflatables

It was far from the only place where things got shallow, either - quite soon we both found ourselves (along with several others in our party) in flow of such little depth we actually had to get out and tow the tubes along to deeper water. The plastic-bladed kayak paddles made a decent walking stick to help negotiate the rocky bottom without falling, but we were very happy we had good, well-fitting water shoes to protect our feet. I would highly advise against trying to do this barefoot or in flip flops!

Just taking our boats for a walk..

The shallows formed the closest things to rapids on this stretch of the Grand

Back in paddle-worthy waters

You can just see other paddlers off to the left of a small island rife with giant hogweed

They had advised that the average time to paddle the 7km from the launch to the extraction point was about 3 hours, and if I'm going to be doing anything for that long I'm going to want a snack. It having been hours since brunch, we each grabbed one of our turkey wraps around an hour into our journey, having only traversed about 2.5km. 

Commence face stuffing!

Fortunately the tubes are incredibly stable - I'm not sure you could actually flip one (while seated) if you tried. So, we could happily much away while the current carried us along past the lovely sights along the riverbanks. 

Like these Canada geese with a late clutch of fuzzy goslings

The only danger was from your fellow paddlers!

As we paddled past Linear Park and the confluence of the Speed and Grand Rivers, we came to the most visually stunning portion of the trip - the white rock cliffs that are easily seen from the footbridge down below Preston Memorial Auditorium on the other side of the river.

Approaching the start of this section

What appears to be an animal den just above the water

A tree grows right out of an outcropping of rock

While I'd seen these many times while running along the Linear Trail, that was nothing compared to the magnificence of drifting slowly past the base of these towering cliffs.

I mean it's not Mazinaw Rock or anything, but not bad for our little borough.

Much more impressive close up

A spray of purple flowers growing inexplicably out of the rock, about 6 feet above the water

Tanker for scale, taking photos with our waterproof camera
(All of these were taken with my cellphone in a waterproof pouch)

As we paddled south past the cliffs, it began to drip a bit...then rain...then absolutely pour!

The river was alive with jumping droplets!

With the warm air and surprisingly warm water, though, we simply soaked up the precipitation and paddled along. It soon passed, leaving a faint rainbow arcing overhead.

It's there, if you can spot it..

This brought us to the last section where we'd have to get out and walk, which gave us a great opportunity to flip the boats over and dump out the accumulated rainwater.

Action Tanker with his kung fu grip!

I was still discovering new things about the Grand River as we slowly drifted along - because none of the trails run near the bank in this spot below Cambridge Memorial Hospital, I had no idea there were cliffs along the east bank as well!

It was marshy below them, though, so we stayed to the west.

The west bank also had some cliffs I'd never seen before.

Fading daylight

The final stretch of the journey is through a deeper, wider section of the river - the current fades to almost nothing, and you do actually have to paddle in order to make reasonable progress. I actually discovered it was just as easy to paddle backward, if not actually more efficient; I seemed to saw back and forth less, and it was no more ridiculous than the rest of the trip!

Calm water and still air

We hadn't brought lights, so didn't want to be caught out after dark.

We heard rushing water, and were treated to a unique sight - the hard few minutes of rain were draining off the edge of a cliff through a tangle of roots, making what appeared to be a lush weeping wall.

You can just make out the streams of water from the roots up top

I'm not sure that circumstances would align to provide that sight to us again if we paddled the river a hundred times - I felt very lucky and grateful to have the experience.

Not that the rest of the river didn't have its quiet beauty.

Especially as the sun dropped toward the horizon behind us

The next feature was one of the main reasons I'd been so stoked to go paddling in the first place (well ok I'm always stoked to go paddling, but on this particular ridiculous little adventure) - I'd finally get to see the bottom of Devil's Creek Falls!

Tanker was sweet enough to hang onto my boat while I clambered out onto the rocky shore to get a better view

I'd seen the miniature fall so many times - it's only steps from the Walter Bean Grand River Trail, and I'd usually stop by on my way down to the market.

I'd certainly done so that morning.

There's a bridge and a ramp that go over the top of the main fall, but the narrow, curving pathway it has carved in the rock through the millenia makes it difficult to see much.

About the best view you can get, between the bridge and the ramp

From the bottom the curved gully still keeps you from seeing the top, but you can watch the bottom two-thirds or so as the water rushes down.

Totally different perspective.

(Click for a short, high definition but poorly-edited clip)

I was mesmerized, but couldn't stay long - after just a few minutes I had to jump back into my little boat to continue the journey down the river.

Daylight was a-wasting.

For the final stretch, we had gorgeous, golden sunlight reflecting off all the beauty along the banks.

The last section of towering cliff

A low, rocky point to paddle 'round

There was still plenty to see, though, as wildlife came down to the water's edge to drink and feed before night.

Like this big heron, hunting in the shallows

Rounding one last curve, the rail bridge hove into view and we knew we were upon the finish of our adventure.

There's a dam beyond the bridge that wouldn't be much fun to shoot in the tiny tube..

Signage directed us to pull up at a gravelly bit of beach by the pollinator preserve, just north of the Ancient Mariners Canoe Club and Riverbluffs Park.

A flotilla of female mallard ducks had got there ahead of us.

Fun times!

It took us just over 2.75hrs - putting in a very minimal effort - to complete the voyage.

(Full data is here)

There had been one group ahead of us (obviously some over-achievers!), 4 other people who arrived around the same time, and another group well behind us, so it seems the 3 hour average time is about right. We were quite soggy from the trip, as the paddle drips into the boat quite a bit, but the evening air was still warm - I did throw on a light cover-up dress over my bikini and was glad to have it, but if I hadn't brought it I probably would have been fine with just a quick towel off (we brought a towel in our drybag). We had about a 10min wait while the shuttle van dropped off the group ahead of us, then returned down to pick us and the other two couples up to deliver us back to Moyer's Landing; that gave us a few minutes to devour the other turkey wrap we'd brought for each of us, which would be just enough to hold us until we got home. We also learned that the company essentially operates at zero profit; any income over and above their expenses is donated to the Grand River Conservation Authority and RARE for the protection of the river and surrounding wetlands - a great bonus!

Overall it was a really fun experience - I highly recommend coming out and giving it a try, even if it's a little further than your own backyard!

Though you may have to put up with dorks like us!

See TubingTheGrand.com for all current pricing and scheduling. I have no affiliation with the operators, and paid full price for our trip - I have not received any compensation or direction for this report.