There was no way I could keep up with the top dog in my division, Greg Knight of Aqua Adventures. By halfway in the race, he was a speck on the horizon. He spoke highly of the Epic Touring Endurance 18 that he was paddling, which is a fast boat. But then again, Greg would've kicked butt in any boat he paddled.

Talk about pain and suffering! I am not really a racer, and I tell you, racing once a year is plenty enough for me. Paddling 20 miles as fast as I could took all of the mental toughness I could muster (good training). There were a lot of times I just wanted to stop paddling, but I couldn't, because CKFer Dave Houser was close behind. He is relatively new in the club and in kayaking, and he did a really good job, especially for his first kayak race, and not to mention using a heavy 4 pound homemade paddle. I am sure he will kick my butt next year. I never should've told him about the race.

My weakest moment was when I had 5 miles left. I was sweating terribly and was overheating so much I wondered if I was going to pass out. I had to take my hat off, put it under the deck bungees, and splash water on myself a few times to cool down. I felt better afterwards, but my muscles were still burning.

My goal this year was to beat 3 hours and 30 minutes, so I was really happy with finishing in just under 3 hours and 21 minutes. I did the race in the Point Bennett, using a touring paddle, and without a rudder or skeg.

    Duane Strosaker

A quick report on the Bay 2 Bay race today in San Diego. Three paddlers from CKF (Duane Strosaker, Jon Brindle and I, Dave Houser) attended the race. We represented the club well. Duane and Jon competed in the 20-mile sit-inside kayak over 17-foot open class placing 2nd and 3rd respectively. And I competed the 20-mile sit-inside kayak under 17-foot open class and placed 2nd. Greg Knight of Aqua Adventures turned in the best time of the day, for sit insides, of 3 hours and 5 minutes. I'll report more later, unless Duane reports in first. I'm having trouble holding my hands up to the keyboard.

Dave later added...

I have exchanged last night's exhausted muscles this morning for stiff and sore muscles. I'm just twisted enough to enjoy stiff muscles as a reminder of a happy time. It's a bad habit I picked up, in the rock climbing days of my youth. Back to the Bay 2 Bay Race. As Duane mentioned this was my first kayak race. The race was a quite a unexpected format, in that, all classes race together. Only the paddleboards start at a different time (30 minutes earlier). So all paddle boats start together: kayaks, sit-in-sides, sit-on-tops, surf skis, outrigger canoes, rowing shells, singles, doubles, triples etc.

I'll digress for a minute. One Wednesday night after Rocket Man, Duane Strosaker, was paddling for the horizon out in front of me training for "The Race", he said you should sign up for the Bay 2 Bay Race you will win the under 17-foot class. Now I have been sandbagged before and this was the biggest stinking sandbag I have ever seen. Heck, I had never even paddled 20 miles. My longest paddle to that date was the "Leap for the Queen" trip, yes on Feb 29, this year. And I was wiped at the end of the 13.5-mile trip and we stopped and ate lunch and had two rest stops both ways. See what I mean about sandbags, big ugly sandbags. I toyed with the idea of racing and started training, twice a week, just in case insanity got the best of me. Two weekends ago I said "Self, if you are going to sign up for the Bay 2 Bay you have to do it this weekend to get the early enrollment discount." So to determine if I could survive, let alone finish the race, I put on my neoprenes and paddled from Newport Bay to the Hunting Beach Pier and back 20-miles solo. I just a bout died, not from the paddling but from the heat. I proved I could paddle 20 miles but stewing in a rubber kettle was unbearable. So I went out and bought a Camel Back, swore off neoprene and signed up for the race.

So back to the race. Duane gives me the pre race strategy, "See that guy over there with the yellow boat. He is your only competition. He wins your class every year. Just ignore him. You won't even see him after the start. You will do fine." And I think, "How am I ever going to finish this race dragging all these stinking sandbags?"

There was plenty of room at the start for everyone to line up, if you wanted a front row start you could have one. There was a countdown and an air-horn blast started the race. I started, sticking to my race strategy of SURVIVAL. The start was amazing, alone it was worth the trip. I had an outrigger canoe on my left with a strange paddling cadence and a two-man rowing skull on my right with long oars swinging like fly swatters. And all the wakes on what was a dead still bay, I couldn't believe all the water motion from just paddle craft. There was a sprint to get out of the bay. Not me, I stuck to my plan and established my maximum survivable cadence and got into the rhythm. Then the first light bulb went off. Find the biggest boat moving at your pace and ride it's wake while we are close together. Heck, there was an outrigger canoe right next to me and he is even going at my pace. Well that worked for a half a mile to the first turn and in 19 more miles I figured I would be glad for any help I got along the way.

Around the first turn and under the bridge, I could see Duane a hundred yards in front of me and Mr. Yellow Boat out in front of him. And then Mr. Yellow Boat deviated from the group by swinging to the right. Since I was back a 100 plus yards I watched and wondered until I was under the bridge and the headwind hit me. He was using the rock dike of the jetty to block some of the wind, a trade for a little more distance. I followed suit. Later he told me he was more concerned about the incoming-tide currents.

Well it worked. I got rid of the outrigger canoe and gained on Duane. At the end of the jetty a huge dive boat full powered right past several of us throwing up a huge 4-foot broken wake. Several of us had choice thoughts about him and his mother. Several kayaks turned into the wake to avoid upset. Not me I surfed it for a good 30 feet. I'll take help when I can get it. After the jetty, it is a long run to the lighthouse on the point. I kept to my rhythm. The swells were just the wrong angle for my boat. It wanted to seek a line either to the left to the surf or to the right out to sea.

I kept lifting my left knee and sweeping on the right to hold the line while threading through the spaces between the kelp. Then the light bulb went off again. The swells were quartering from behind left and the kelp thinned outside so I could just let the kayak follow its own line out and then turn in and follow kayak's line in with the push of the swells. So I started to drift outside and the good news was I could still see Duane and Mr. Yellow Boat inside not gaining on me and I after I turned in the swells pushed with no kayak wallowing. I fell back in behind them without loosing any distance and I still had my right arm. The turn around the point into the bay was brutal in that it killed the little wind we had. It was at our back and just the speed to match ours.

The heat instantly got to me. I took off my cap missing only half a stroke to slip it under a bungie, took some big gulps from my Camel Back hose and began frequently dipping my hands in the cool ocean water by making deep strokes. Finally when we were in the channel, conditions seemed to improve a little. But hose sucking became a regular event. Mr. Yellow Boat stayed to the left I assume chasing the tide. I could not see any advantage. I stayed more centered behind Duane. I figured if there was any chance to catch either of them I need to make a move. We were about 5 miles from the finish and made a hard turn at one of the inflatable yellow marker buoys. I timed Mr. Yellow Boat and Duane as they turned past the buoy. Mr. Yellow Boat was 25 seconds ahead of Duane and Duane was just 5 seconds ahead of me. I yelled at Duane he had 25 seconds to make up. I figured he could catch Mr. Yellow Boat but I doubted that I had a chance. I started pouring it on making it a point to have long hard strokes on each side. I was cranking but not sprinting. Duane answered the call, he didn't want me near him and Rocket Man moved out. My only chance to close on him even a little after that was when he overheated and missed a couple strokes to take off his hat and to splash to cool off. Will, my little game of pushing Duane worked but unfortunately Mr. Yellow Boat saw us close behind him when he made that hard turn at the yellow buoy and started paddling without showing any struggle at all. We were now flying by the sit-on-tops that had just stared on the 5-mile race. I cranked and sprinted the last mile and a half but then so must have Duane and Mr. Yellow Boat. I ended up a minute and half behind Mr. Yellow Boat and Duane was 50 seconds ahead of me. I was amazed with the pace I kept up. I don't know were it came from. I just kept flashing back to being on a rock climbing lead, burnt and about to fall off holding on with everything I had. I used anything to keep my incentive going.

After crossing the finish line and hitting the sand, I heard Mr. Yellow Boat say to a congratulating friend that he saw the two wood boats behind him and he had to take his glasses off to get going. I was glad we inconvenienced him a little. It sure didn't show from my perspective.

Duane's parting comment for the day was "You should do the Catalina for lunch trip this year." And I responded, "That's 40 miles in one day. I've never done forty miles." And he said, "You'll do fine." And I thought, "I know a sandbag when I see one!" My congratulations to Greg Knight for winning the over 17-foot class. And to Mr. Yellow Boat, unfortunately I misplaced his name in my short-term memory, for winning the under 17-foot class, he sure made it look easy. He has done all 21 of the Bay 2 Bay races! I never saw Greg he was just gone from the beginning.

This was my second Bay to Bay. I hadn’t even considered Dave’s strategy of paddling like heck and staying close to Duane. My goal was to break 4 hours so I wanted to ensure I never dropped below a 4.5 knot pace. Per George Miller’s suggestion, I used my GPS to maintain my pace and evaluate various paddling options (leaning forward, increased shoulder rotation, greater reach, more vertical stroke….). Based on my running experiences, I wanted to establish the goal pace rather than go out too fast and bonk later. Oddly, kayaking seems to be different than running in that I have not seen people die late in a kayak race because they went out too fast.

I had to maintain concentration for the first 10 miles to stay above my 4.5 knot goal due to incoming tide, wind, ship traffic in Mission Bay, kelp, and the mild chop in the stretch to Point Loma. I noticed some hugging the breakwater as they left Mission Bay and wondered if they found calmer water there. Perhaps due to the flood tide, I was not below 5.2 knots for the last 10 miles. I had to make a major course adjustment (90 degree turn and at least 100 yards) to round the last green buoy and divert further to pass the less than clearly marked inflatable buoy at the Shelter Island Breakwater. In addition to costing me time, it put me in the path of inconsiderate power boaters entering the harbor. I had to brace for 2’ boat wakes several times that could easily have capsized me. I had the surreal experience of crossing the starting line for the 5 mile race exactly when the 5 mile race started. All those kayaks around me were re-energizing at the 15 mile mark.

Future racers beware that the Coronado Bridge looks enticingly close even though it is still nautical miles away. Therefore, keep your guard up. I was able to maintain my 5+ knot pace to finish 26 minutes faster than last year with a time of 3 hours and 37 minutes. I still had a lot left at the finish, so it makes me wonder whether I was too conservative over the first 10 miles. I admit to eyeing Greg Knight’s Epic Touring Endurance and wondering how it might have affected my time.

I encourage all CKFR’s to participate in this race next year. Although there are elite paddlers, it is ultimately a personal race where merely finishing can be considered a victory.