Lake Tahoe Classic 2014 Relocates Starting Line

September 24, 2014, Lake Tahoe, California and Nevada.

"Zach! How ya feelin' this morning?" I asked this question in Lake Tahoe's dawn chill. Zach's response, delivered with a grin, was to the point: he'd been up all night. 

Dawn over South Tahoe's El Dorado Beach

(Click on photos to enlarge, hit <esc> key to return)

It was refreshing to have strong representation from Santa Cruz. But the race was an afterthought. Craig Waltz's bachelor party had been held in Tahoe City the night before the race. Why not combine that with a 22-mile race the next morning? All-nighter notwithstanding, I knew what to expect. I had done well in previous races here. That was clearly about to change, and I was actually stoked to watch it unfold.

The presence of Santa Cruz Ghostryders wasn't the only change from past Tahoe Classics. All previous races started from the South Shore's Camp Richardson and ended at the North Shore's Kings Beach (that course was actually 21 miles, though advertised as 22). This year's starting line moved to South Tahoe's El Dorado Beach.  The new course would have been even shorter, had the course's first leg not been directed westbound to a buoy near Tahoe Keys. It turned out to be 22.5 miles.

We were greeted at dawn by pure glass. Cold air survived sunrise, at least for a while. Predictions were for strong south-southwest winds by noon. 

A challenge for new racers is the impossibility of seeing Kings Beach from the starting line. Earth's curvature causes two six-foot persons to disappear from each others' site when 18 miles apart.  For that reason, you have no chance of spotting Kings Beach until you're well beyond the halfway point.

It's important to know what to look for in order to aim for Kings Beach, especially because the first leg of the race (as reconfigured this year) runs west, not north.

To get a sense of the view, log on to Google Maps, select "Earth" view, and play around with the tilt feature.  Here's a screenshot:

In the above Google Maps screenshot, King's Beach is all the way to the left. Crystal Bay is all the way to the right. Brockway Point is near the center, just above the word, "Google". A ridge runs up the mountain from Brockway Point (there are two light brown spots as you look up that ridge). Look above that, to the highest ridge visible along the sky (ignoring the mountain peaks in the far background). To the right, above Crystal Bay, is a large brown region (in various shades). The left end of the darker part of the brown region is your marker from the south side of the lake.

On the approach to Kings Beach, a red tile roof will appear. That's the community center, and it's at the left end of the beach. The race's finish is somewhere to the right of that.

Me, Mike McDaniel: ready.

For this year's race, two buoys marked the starting line, about a quarter mile offshore. It was shallow enough on the way out that we had to carry our boards most of the way, so it was important to head out as soon as it was announced we'd be starting soon.

Getting off the starting line, I was eager to put my new Bark 16' 6" unlimited through its paces. As we headed for Tahoe Keys, I caught up with a couple of Santa Cruz friends. But after we turned north, it wasn't long before it was just me and the lake.

Lake Tahoe isn't a technical paddle. It's just long and requires focus that matches that length. Towards the end, there's a current running west around Brockway Point, so it's best to be vigilant about not winding up too far west -- unless the southwest wind comes up. But being too far east can make it difficult to overcome a current that runs into Crystal Bay. All that means minding your line in the last third of the race.

While I always work for the best performance I can muster, I also am mindful of how much I look forward each year to being on this very special (some say sacred) lake. That mindset focuses me on what's around me in the present. This day, blindingly brilliant white clouds dappled the sky. The effect on the lake's surface was an ongoing dynamic dance of that pure white upon the lake's blue surface, a paisley pattern in motion.  The colors and texture of the sky, the lake, the trees and the granite peaks were mesmerizing, enchanting, majestic.

I stayed slightly west, anticipating the predicted strong southwest wind. While the lake's surface was still glass, a water patrol boat approached me, manned by two official-looking gents. One asked if I was heading straight to shore. My impulse was to quip that my race result depended on that, but I just said, "Yes." "Good" was the response, followed by, "Strong winds are expected" in a warning tone. My next thought, which I didn't say out loud, was: BRING IT ON!!!! Clearly, these folks had never heard of the Davenport Downwinder.

Near the end, although not soon enough for my taste, the wind kicked in abruptly, like a switch had been thrown. I had positioned myself just west of Kings Beach and now got to surf my way home.

DeeAnn, four of my cousins and our neighbors from Carmel greeted me as I crossed the finish mat.  This new course had taken me 4:54:37 to complete. San Diego's Todd Robinson won it in 3:55:42. Second was Santa Cruz's Mike Dilloughery (4:21:59), followed by Groom-To-Be Craig Waltz (4:25:46). All three finished before the wind kicked up, so they actually paddled that fast!

My good friend and training partner Mike McDaniel got caught too far east. He won a lengthy battle to get to the inside of Brockway Point and then to the finish. The wind was so strong that some standup paddlers were going to their knees, or even going prone to finish, in spite of the fact it was a tailwind.

We didn't stay long on the beach - it was that windy. The sky was also turning a very strange pinkish-grey in the southwest. It turned out that was caused by smoke carried in on the southwest winds from the massive King Fire. That tragedy ultimately caused extensive damage and also cancelled Lake Tahoe's Iron Man. I was thankful we weren't inhaling that smoke during the race.

When we arrived at our Holiday House base, the visible effects of the fire had greatly intensified. 

View from Holiday House of smoke spreading over Lake Tahoe

Our hostess and owner of The Holiday House, Alvina Patterson, informed us that the wind was so high that a boat capsized in front of Captain Jon's (just to our west). I grabbed my board, paddled out, and took a few photos. The next morning we watched a crew right the boat. Hopefully, it was restored after that.

In the end, it was another great year that had its own unique way of unfolding. That included the fun of visiting with my cousins and introducing them to some of Tahoe's many wonders. But the sadness of the fire lingered, a reminder of how precious Tahoe is.

Course Adjustment: Sixth Annual West Cliff Challenge

 
I was stoked to be doing this year's race with Mike McDaniel and our friends from Santa Cruz. It's a small race, less than 20 this year, in a stunning venue that offers both challenges and fun.

[Click on photos to enlarge, hit <esc> to return] 

September in Santa Cruz can bring on just about any conditions, from glass to whipped-up seas to solid waves. This year, a solid south swell stripped Mitchell's Cove of sand and also made the location too treacherous.

 It was decided to start and finish the race at Collins Cove (next to Cowell Beach), as well as to eliminate the leg that rounds the Coast Guard Buoy outside of the San Lorenzo river. The course, as revised, was: paddle from Collins Cove to the buoy outside of Natural Bridges State Beach, taking the buoy on the left shoulder, then back to Collins Cove.

We were treated to moderate northwest winds for our 1 pm (+) start. Although the winds were light inside the cove, a puff of wind blew off my cap shortly into the race. That wasn't just any cap, it was a red Bryson Burns Construction cap given to me by Nick Bryson. It's been protecting the Jones noggin for several years, from Jay Races, to Catalina Classics, to Davenport Downwinders (3) and even Kauai's very breezy Napali Coast.

Paddlers needed to make a choice of line from Seal Rock (just outside of Steamer Lane) to Natural Bridges. Kelp beds offered shelter from headwinds and chop, but at the risk of taking a set wave on the head.

Aaron McKennon took the outside line and I took my cue from him. Aaron's feet just got smaller and smaller as the race progressed. Once past Steamer lane, the wind picked up. It was all upwind to Natural Bridges. But on the way back, it was all bumps. And my Bark 14-footer loves bumps.

After rounding Seal Rock, a choice had to be made: whether to take a like close to the cliffs, risking a clean-up set from the south swell, or swing wide of the lane. I chose the latter, missing an opportunity to surf an open face into Cowell's.

Mike McDaniel finishes

What fun. I loved the course, the day, and all my paddling friends.  I would gladly have taken two laps. 

5th Annual Davenport Downwinder (May 2014)

Huge stretches of California’s spectacular coastline can’t be seen from the road. Much of Central California’s Wilder Coast falls into that category. But hop onto an ocean-going vessel and Wilder Coast’s glory stands in full view. Of course, being on the ocean, she makes the call about what that experience is like. Mother Ocean, in all her elements, was in a particularly playful mood on this day.

The mood on Davenport Landing’s beach was pretty good, too. Ghostryders Santa Cruz organizes this race to help put wind in the sails of Junior Lifeguards. Their largest Davenport race to date was about to break all previous records for delivering the goods. This event is fast becoming a premiere downwinder, rivaling any. And the vibe is at once mellow and all about the fun.

Ghostryders' central office for the day

Readying for battle. Friendly battle, but battle nonetheless

John Alexiou and daughter Kali'a conferring about the line.
Kali'a killed it in the 14-foot SUP Women's class

No matter who you are or what you may do to fund your lifestyle, you’re only one thing here: a paddler. All equal. All facing the same challenge. All smiling about all of that.

Today, the challenge is 14 miles in 20-knot winds whipping the ocean into rideable wind waves punctuated by occasional cotton balls. Leashes are highly recommended. There were a few hair-raising lost paddleboard stories that appeared on the internet in the last few months. It happens before there’s time to react. And on the Wilder Coast, there’s no “civilization” to swim to.

Friend and training partner Mike McDaniel signed his company, Mile 22, on as a sponsor. Mike generously invited me to go up with him. I trust Mike's Fat Straps for the best transport hold, with no pressure marks.  

Mile 22 Debut

It was a bit odd knowing Mike wouldn’t be in the water. Also missing was Mike Roberts, who got called to the San Diego fires. Shane Scoggins was at work. So, I was the lone Carmel-Monterey paddler (that I know of). They weren’t the only Davenport regulars in absence: Joe Beek, Joe & Jack Bark, we missed you, too.

As the starting time approached, I exhibited my usual touches of disorganization. I almost forgot to tape gels on the board. And Mike thoughtfully offered me my two water bottles. I scanned the starting line for paddleboards, spotted a group of them and inserted mine – it’s not fun to go out among SUPs waving and thrashing oars about.

Today, I was paddling a sparkling, brand-new Bark custom14-foot CT. In the two weeks prior, I was hoping to try it in downwind conditions, but that didn’t happen. On this day, it performed remarkably well. I’m already calling it a magic board.

Due to the conditions, as well as to the board, I spent less time paddling and more time riding bumps. The great paddlers connect the bumps, levering from one wave to another. When connecting happens to me, it’s not entirely intentional, but it’s a thrill every time. There were lined-up northwest swells that tend to take paddlers towards shore, and there were waves reflecting off the shore heading back outside. That made an easy job of staying outside the kelp.  And it all lined up even better near the end.

Everyone spreads out quickly. That makes it difficult to know where you are in the pack. It also means if there’s trouble, you’re likely on your own. Although the conditions were the best I’ve seen, I still got pitched off my board four or five times. The first spill was early in the race. I lost a water bottle. I had only filled the second bottle halfway, and now I was just going to have to make do with that. Each time I came unglued, I was able to keep both hands on the board. The wind immediately turned the board broadside to the swell and, now blowing crossbeam, wanted to blow the board over.  But I managed never to lose contact with the board, keeping recovery time to a minimum.

Paul Ban caught up to me in the second half of the course. I was glad to have his company, but with earplugs covered by my neoprene hoodie, I couldn’t hear everything he was saying.

As busy as I was out there, I had the presence of mind to take in the coastline. The light was perfect, the view entirely inspiring. I took no camera because I was hoping to have my best course time in these great conditions (I did).

I was surprised at how fast it felt like I got to the last part of the course, even with all the bumps I racked up.  Natural Bridges came into view, then the West side, then the lighthouse. The bumps followed us around the land’s bend eastward, not flattening until Steamer Lane.  I had plenty of gas in the tank to get around the Municipal Pier and take the final stretch.

Coming home. This day marked the 90th "birthday" of Santa Cruz Boardwalk's Giant Dipper
(the roller coaster, top of photo) Photo: John Bostwick

There were loads of boards on the beach ahead of me, but I had both my best result and the best time I’ve ever had at this event (my third). And here's my favorite results posting ever: my age was listed as "60 going on 50".

After hanging on the beach, Mike, John Bostwick and I headed up to the wharf. I loaded my paddleboard, John drove off, and Mike headed for the Ideal Bar & Grill. Before I caught up with Mike, I witnessed a scene that could only happen in Santa Cruz (or maybe Redondo Beach):

 It was very temporary parking. The owner swooped up his ride shortly after I snapped the shot.

The after party was like a homecoming to all. Of the races I have ever gone to, this one reliably features constant conversation at lofty decibel levels lasting for hours. So much so, that Zack Wourmhoudt always has a tough time getting the awards announced.  

Friendly pandemonium

I’m going to remember and savor this one for a long time to come.

4th Annual Santa Cruz Downwind Ryders Cup Paddleboard Race - May 18, 2013

 The Davenport Downwinder is a 14-mile romp down central California wilderness coastline, for serious paddlers only. It will toss you, spank you, and serve up the best runners you’ll ever get. You’ll swear you’re over it and won’t go near it again. But you’ll be back. When you do come back, don’t forget your leash.

Props to Ghostryder Waterman’s Club for hosting a world-class race with local hospitality, all in support of Santa Cruz’s Junior Lifeguards program.  And thanks to all of the event’s sponsors, too. Just to help raise a little more, Joe Bark donated one of his beautiful longboards for a raffle. Isn’t that just like Joe.

There was nearly as much paddling energy in the water as there was wind energy on it. The field really grew this year, from under 70 last year to over 100 this time. And the participation was international. I don’t have the registration information, but I know for sure we had at least one New Zealander and two Frenchmen. And it’s no small deal for anyone to come over from Hawai‘i.

The race goes from Davenport landing, a rather lonely spot north of town. The tiny access road filled with paddleboard-bearing vehicles of all sizes.  Here's ours (thanks to DeeAnn for all the photos):

 (Click photos to enlarge, to return, hit <esc>)

It's great to get to the cove, check in, say hi to friends. Joe Bark's truck is impossible to miss, and it's great to check in with him. He takes one look at my board and comments on my choice of weapon. I remark who Joe made this board for and that it surfs. Joe looks and says, yeah, he sees it.

Kevin Seid came over from O'ahu. I met him at the 2009 Lake Tahoe Classic, where we paddled and joked together much of the first half of that race. Kevin owns and operates Everpaddle out of Haleiwa (http://www.everpaddle.com/).

Next, check conditions, ready the equipment ... and crank up the courage. These are some conditions. Yeeeew!! There are whitecaps everywhere. And this cove is just gorgeous.

My ride this year wasn't my 14-foot Bark CT. My fin touched a rock, and the CT was still draining out.  But I figured my 17'6" could be a fun ride. Joe Bark made it for Tony Hotchkiss as a combo flat water/downwind board. It has just enough rocker to surf, and it really turned on for me during this race.

And speaking of the Bark family, Jack showed up. This is the last I saw of him until I got to the finish line ... about an hour after Jack! What a talent.

I always love shots of the stickyard ...

The prerace meeting:

OK, let's get down to it.

Oh, but check out that scenery:

Paddleboarding isn't really a spectator sport. Only the dedicated come to race starts.

 Joe, mid-warmup.

Outa here...

An impressionistic rendering, no?

I love how hectic the starts are. There's just so much energy and focus. I bumped rails with one or two SUPs on the way out. And there are so many of us going the same way. That moves a lot of water.

 Other paddlecraft went about 15 min. later.

This was my second Davey.  It's surprising that, once 100 paddlers are in the water, everyone spreads out. After the first 15 minutes, I mostly paddled in isolation. Others reported similar experiences.

Some things came together for me technically. More so than I suspected going into the race.

That was a little surprising for me because in this race, my focus wasn’t as much on when I’d arrive at the finish line as in past races. I left the Garmin in the car. Here’s why the shift: I have finally wakened to some simple facts: if all you think about is the finish line, the speed, the results, you miss 14 miles of thrills and only curse the spills. I’m slowly learning that enjoying the present moment is the greatest gift I can give myself. And there’s nothing to focus the mind on the present like barreling down the coast in a 20+ knot wind.

Another advantage to focusing on the moment is not thinking about how long the race is. You can just take it in short segments of a minute or less. The distance is less overwhelming when approached in that way. But more than that, I was able to look for what I could enjoy about this race right now. Like the bump ride that’s going on … and on … and on … (stroke, stroke, stroke) … and on … and on. Or the scenery -- God, what scenery.  Paddlers really spread out in this race, so much of it is just you and the ocean. So it really helps to find the things that make each moment worth the trip.

I did get tossed off once because, after a bump caught me (this thing was standing up like approaching shorebreak), I failed to pitch out my 17-foot, 6-inch paddleboard. The nose dug in, and I flew over the handlebars. So did my water bottles. The board was running away fast. If I hadn’t had my leash, I doubt I would ever have caught it. And it’s a long, sharky swim to the beach. The leash made it possible for me to recover the water bottles without fear of losing sight of the paddleboard. So, fortunately, I recovered quickly, with water bottles. And later, when another wall approached, I got it right. Like I said, focus.

I still felt good enough at the end to finish strong (a relative term). But I was ready to get that recovery drink down, and get back to feeling normal.

I’m not in the finish-in 2-hours (or so) club. I’m coming in at around 3 hours, give or take. So, it was great to get to the beach and see all that talent hanging around to welcome and visit with the rest of us.  

But I did come in on the tail of Phil Curtis. When we got to Steamer Lane, Phil took an inside line, while I stayed outside the kelp. Phil was with two SUPs. I shoulda figured they could see it was clear and joined them. At the end of the day, Phil beat me and my unlimited on his 14-foot (somewhat vintage) Eaton. Phil's clearly the better man!

The race organizers nearly all paddle the race. Here's Zach Wormoudt, who came in way ahead of me on his SUP.

Here are a couple more friends ...

Reno Caldwell, the Redondo Rocket, nailed a podium finish.

Mike Dilloughery greets Jarret Winter. Mike couldn't do this one.

The after-party was just packed, and it seemed to me no one left until the end. I caught up with friends, and left with a hoarse voice, smiling ear-to-ear.

Which is to say: this is as much about those friends we get to check in with as it is about the paddling.

Santa Cruz Downwind (aka Davenport Downwinder) 2012: Think Outside the Bay

Ghostryder Watermans Club is a nonprofit corporation that uses its events to raise funds for the Santa Cruz Junior Lifeguards program. This year, GRWC decided not to host the logistical nightmare that is the Monterey Bay Crossing, choosing instead to better energize the 14-mile Davenport Downwinder. With new sponsors on board, their efforts paid off.

For raw downwind, open-ocean confrontation along majestic, undeveloped, rugged California coastline, this race delivered.

 GRWC’s invitation made this clear: advanced paddlers only. Anyone who might have missed the point just needed to take one look at the course map:

The course. No food, no services, just gas.

Conditions didn’t need to be maxed out to get your full attention, start to finish. It’s obvious this run is to be taken seriously. One look from the beach tells you anything can happen out there, and fast. So it’s easy to understand why some of the best paddlers from all over California showed up, both prone and SUP.

Davenport Landing offers a large, crescent beach nestled between two point breaks.   (Click on photos to enlarge, then hit your browser's back button to return to this story.)

Mike Roberts told me the waves get big here and have played havoc with this race before. Today, we got lucky.

Paddlers arrived, checked in, and caught up on the latest with each other. Our energy level uniformly rose as race time neared.

Mike Roberts, readying his ride.

Thanks, Mike, for providing transport to Davenport!

A total stranger was kind enough to offer to take this. And also kind enough to give my camera back to me.

BARK-ing sands. Reno Caldwell is the one holding up his board and throwing shaka.

Jack Bark, Reno Caldwell, Steve Shlens, about to kill it.

Zach Wormhoudt described the course and safety, and we got ourselves ready to go.

Today, there wasn’t much surf, so the beach start was easy. The first challenge was to paddle crosswind in order to accomplish two things. First, staying too far inside meant getting hung up in kelp and fighting to stay away from shore. Second, the runners are better farther out.

The difficult part was that refraction off of the various points along the course caused some disorganized water. I got bucked off my board a few times. But that was a small price to pay for all those fun bumps I caught.

Mike Roberts and I did some good training runs in Monterey this year, and now we were both cashing in, having a blast. During our training runs we kept track of the fastest bump. We were over the moon when my Garmin said we hit 12 mph on our best run. But at the Davenport race, I dropped into one that was even faster:

The venue, the day, and the conditions were so enthralling I took the time to snap a few photos from the water. I figured I could just let it be a race for someone else (for once) and free myself to take in my surroundings a bit more. I’m really happy I did.

Bumps everywhere!

Josh Pederson caught me in the act of taking this photo.

On the approach to the Santa Cruz Municipal Pier, just outside Seal Rock, Josh Pederson and I caught up to each other and paddled in together to the finish. It was a great way to end one of the best races I have been in.

It was obvious at the awards party that every last paddler was amped from the run. The talking had so much energy that poor Zach could hardly be heard as he announced the awards.

Which speaks volumes about what the real reward was: if you did this race, you won. Period.