World Adventure Race Canada 2025
This is us.
Day and night no longer exists, it's just light and dark. Time is hidden away in a bag I can no longer access, my watch and phone abandoned for the week.
It's liberating, no one can beckon me at any hour on their terms, for a moment I own my time.
I love the anticipation of what's to come, it's a parallel existence.
It's a world that’s part real, part fantasy and, to be fair, sometimes part nightmare!
This is adventure racing, this is extreme holidaying and fast tourism.
I dare you to try it, trust me it will change your life.
Leaving on traditional school buses to the start.
I believe adventure racing is one of the toughest sports out there; it pushes you to the limit of what is physically possible as a human, it's a way to seek out the edges.
It's really diverse, you have to be reasonably good at multiple sports and that makes training a real conundrum. You need a very strong mind game, a body that can handle extremes and the ability to work tightly with three other people while under pressure and sleep deprived. You need excellent personal admin and the ability to communicate and to be heard. It's a rare combination of skills.
ARWS Canada promised roughly 800km, 20,000m elevation and a 10-day cut off but these are just unrelatable numbers, let's just say it's long and hilly.
This was my 3rd expedition length race and first time at a world championships. It was audacious of me to believe I could do it yet it is typical of me to purposefully force myself into this kind of scenario. I often put myself into situations I'm unsure of, I do this because I believe that's where the growth is, it teaches me more about who I am and who I want to be.
No matter how old you are there are lessons to be learnt and parts of yourself to discover, we just have to open the door for the opportunity to see it and learn it.
Pressure highlights your cracks, and I see how people react, sometimes I don’t like what I see and it teaches me who
I want to be.
Racing has taught me dignity even though at times its completely undignified, its taught me to be honest with how
I behave under pressure , being within a team has taught me about who I want to be surrounded by, surviving or thriving in a race are two very different experiences.
The best teams fight for each other, they put team mates before themselves, they are accountable for their actions and each member brings the best version of themself to the race. Thats what makes the fastest teams the best teams.
The flag parade with the local music and dancing it was energetic and colourful.
Anyway onto some lessons from the race…
You can see our tents under Mount Currie.
Arriving in Pemberton to stay in tents on north arm farm I felt quite calm, all the work was done. I couldn’t change anything now. I just had to do what I came here to do. Mount Currie loomed above us and we were surrounded by fields of colourful vibrant flowers. The electric fence around the tents kept the local bear out or arguably us in.
The air hung heavy with moisture and the subtle drum of tension was palpable. Everyone just finalising maps (no gps or mobile phones allowed)and fiddling with kit.
I ate an ice cream with three flavours that didnt blend well together while sat on a swing,
it felt like a normal thing to do in an abnormal situation.
I had to practice feeling calmness, strictly controlling my excitable mind and not letting anxiety twist my energy. My mantra ‘ no one is born an athlete, you’ve done the work to be here’
I've always felt different ,
I'm always the crazy one, and yet here are all the other crazy people, my legs are no longer the centre of attention, here big quads are celebrated ,
I look around and see people who have designed themselves to be able to carry heavy shit, there is no cockiness , the race is too hard to promote that , no one is foolish enough to think they can cruise this. We all know what's coming and we have prepared ourselves the best we can.
I'm nervous yet extremely focussed, I need a wee.
Excited for some racing.
It was an early start and the air was cold . I felt like I was shaking with anticipation. “I know I can do this”. I’m ready to hurt.
The initial start was utterly comedic as we barrelled on foot through a cornfield in mountain bike shoes (it was like an opening scene from a horror movie apart from everyone was laughing)where we then had to pick and shuck corns, from there we jumped on our bikes and headed to Pemberton’s bike trails. I immediately felt at home . I really had to rain it in as I love technical mountain bike trails.
It was dry ,dusty and loose with intresting slabs. I was so happy. High on adrenaline and feeling giddy with joy. It was sexy bike riding, hero turns and berms, even the sound of my tyres locking up during hard braking felt class, a plume of dust in my wake.
Views and good trails, I thought of my friends from home and how they would love this bit.
Once we hit the road, a peloton of racers kept the speed at the very top, anyone would think it was a day race , it was silly and fun.
Soon we hit the base of a 1800meter climb which shattered the pack like the white ball on a pool table.
There was some steep ramps within the climb ,it was really punchy and energy slashing, a test of grit early on.
Heading towards the glacier and the lakes.
Soon we arrived at the top , ditched the bikes and walked up to the glacier. Its a feast for the eyes and a shock for the calves. Every time I go to these places I think about how I would like to pitch my tent and just sit in this space with no purpose what so ever. The weather took a slight turn but nothing wild. It felt big and I felt smaller than usual.
We crossed paths with other teams and there was a buzz around the place, we disrupted the serenity, typical humans!
Back on the bikes, we headed towards the first big paddle across carpenter lake.
As I got into my dry suit, it felt a wee bit itchy. 12 hours later I had the stark realisation. I’m allergic to the latex which is rather unfortunate given I was to be spending a lot of time in this drysuit. Thankfully, I had antihistamines and enthusiasm- itching wasn’t gonna stop me. But i looked literally like a red neck.
On the left you can see two tiny dots- thats us!
The first night in the pack rafts was tough tougher than I’d expected. We had stopped to take some pills and the wind had rotated us, what we didn’t realise is that we were heading in the wrong direction, after we had stopped we had gone hours in the wrong direction. When you’re on a pitch black lake with no point of reference, It’s so easy to do this we should’ve done a bearing check but we didn’t. This was our first psychological test.
On the plus side shooting stars peppered the sky and the wind was kind.
All night, we paddled . Eventually we hit the head of the dam where we then clambered up a steep sandy exit and packed away the pack rafts, we then hauled them over a mountain to the next lake.
It was only 14km but it was straight up and straight down. I felt like a turtle with a high rise on their back, if I tipped over at any moment I'd be stuck on my back with my arms and legs in the air and would need to be upturned back onto my feet.
On the plus side if I was to sit down (unlikely)it was like having a deck chair attached to you. Its very important to remember you have two paddles sticking high above your head, when you forget its like someone is trying to pull you over from behind or you knock leaves and dew down on yourself, you also must not walk through doorways as there is a high chance of either landing on your butt or braking the glass door.
Portaging to the entrance to the rapids.
A local indigenous lady stood at the edge of the lake and played a traditional drum while singing us out onto the next lake. It really hit me in the heart. Huge mountains surrounded us ,powerful water carried us and the sound of her drum and voice really got me in the feels.
This is their land and they are so connected to it. It felt like an honour to be there.
The choppy waters made me feel sea sick.
After negotiating the first small set of rapids of the race, we arrived in Lillot , the takeout was rather fishy as it’s the end of the salmon run and there were lots of dead salmon, I still tried not to stand on them as it felt cruel. It’s a reminder of how nature busily work around us and of the life cycle of the amazing salmon, we were in their home -the river.
Onto an 87km 2500m bike ride and i was glad to be on the bike, riding a bike to me is almost like walking I find it very peaceful and after 20 years of cycling my legs go round in circles better than straight lines.
We got offered beer by some happy campers ‘alas not today my friends’.
Arriving at the ranch that was TA5 felt like such a novelty , a ranch like in the movies, we have piles of slurry with angry farmers and here they have ranch’s with bears and long picket fences, we needed to sleep so slept between two combine harvesters for two hours on the floor in our bivvy bags (without sleeping bags)there was a chill in the air ,but I definitely slept , I know this cause I woke up with a crusty face from dribbling and a dead arm from lying on it. As the sun rose, we left for the 73K trek. I remember thinking to myself “What a great day to be alive.”
Travelling through the indigenous territory surrounded by farmland as a gentle soft sun rose the air was crisp and fresh , the light was soft with a false promise of sun, cows wandered aimlessly amongst the vast landscape. This terrain looked different. We climbed endlessly to a firewatch tower and today I struggled. I struggle with fire road on foot as it really hurts my knee. I’m much better on technical terrain so today I just suffered and that's ok. As a storm blew in we were very exposed and knew we were about to get a kicking from above. Our pace was too slow to keep warm. We missed any food opportunities and I just couldn’t stop shaking. I wasn’t particularly cold , the shake comes from the body trying to tell you it needs rest, it needs warm and food and stillness. To override this it takes accepting that your hurting yourself, to my body I say " I hear you body but for now we move , for now we find a way forward, I’ll give you what I can but for now this is our reality and I need you to just work it’ sometimes my mind is stronger than my body and I get angry ‘ ffs sake Rickie move faster’.
The night was rough and as we arrived in cache creek at 2:30am we were slightly deflated by our slow progress, again, the next section had been dark-zoned so we had hoped for a few hours sleep but the slower we were the less sleep we would get.
A greasy burger and hot chocolate from a gas ( petrol station )station felt like a Michelin starred meal! ( I never eats burgers at home;)
Arriving in Ashcroft at the TA i was empty , I had to sleep , we bedded down for the second 2hr sleep .
As soon as the dark zone lifted we would be on the river which filled me with both fear and excitement at the same time.
I awoke with surprising energy ready for the 51k swift water paddle, back into the itchy drysuit and away we headed down stream with a few other teams. It was like mario cart but in packrafts and slightly higher consequences.
We approached the white water at speed and i saw my team mates in the other boat split right and drop in, i shouted to Ian ‘LEFT LEFT LEFT’ but it was to late and we got highsided by a very large rock , flipping the boat over into the rapid set.
Immediately i pulled my spray deckand I hit my chest on a submerged rock but held onto my paddle and grabbed the boat before it got stripped away , I could just about see Ian at the back of the boat.
We had very little time to get back in before the next set, we flipped the boat and dived in from opposite sides, Ian had to tug me in as i was still half out as we approached the second rapid, bollocks he doesnt have a paddle, steering tthe packraft happens from the back so i gave him my paddle and then all i could was tuck my feet in and hold tight and urm close my eyes.
Thankfully we got the paddle back as we began to hit some of the biggest wave trains ive seen in my life.
The noise was frighteningly thunderous, it rose up from below us, the spray deck could not hold out this volume of water.
All I could see was sky as we pummelled up the face of the wave, as it crested we slapped down with ferocity, my initial joy at surviving such a wave was short lived as what lay before us was multiple sets of these ginormous waves. It was so fast and loud. All I could think of was ‘ must stay in the boat ‘
Paddle paddle paddle , strong fast strokes keeping the blade in the water and counter correcting the wobbles , keep the damn nose straight.
It was demanding , terrifying and fun all at the same time.
It required relentless focus.
For a brief moment of reprieve we drifted under a rail bridge and into a canyon , the warm morning light draped down the steep , rough walls ,glistening serenely on the surface of the water, it was a moment to reflect on how small we are and that it was a complete priviledge to witness such natural beauty.
That peace was short lived as we funnelled into the next wave train when a wave smashed us in the face so hard it knocked Ian’s contact lens sideways and tried to steal the paddle out of his hands, we barrelled down those waves half blind , one handed and with drunken delirium from the power of pure adrenalin !
Finishing that paddle made me feel fair chuffed with myself , when i first got into a kayak in 2021 i could hardly go in a straight line, now we had completed a Canadian grade 3+ , it might not have been stylish but we made it.
After such joyous paddling we then had to ‘portage’ the packrafts/drysuits/ pfds 65km by bike to the next transition.
My poor bum. Our bags became beasts of burden, the weight made my neck hurt and my arms tingle. I allowed myself 10 minutes of inner voice moaning and then it was time to shut up and crack on , it isnt going to get lighter so the only thing I could change was my attitude.
The next paddle section had a dark zone which meant we could get a sleep and we could stop at a petrol station for coffee along the way, little did we know what we would face when we arrived there.
I saw a black bear scuttle across the track, it looked surprisingly cuddly from a distance.
A course change which meant no sleep and an extra 4hrs hiking with packfatty on my back making it a wholesome 12 hrs of carrying this rubbery beast. I'm pretty sure I shrunk at least 2cm in height after that carry.
The sun creeped slowly into the sky as we tentatively put our very sore butts back in the saddle, we quietly drifted through a small town where solitary tradesmen in big trucks sought out their first coffees of the day in the only early open cafe in town, I looked in at the lights and the warmth and only then did a hard plastic cafe chair seem comfortable, I longed for a cooked breakfast and a shit coffee.
Instead we had the ‘crux’ of the race, which on paper didn’t seem too bonkers 62km 4000m elevation and a ropes section in the middle.
How wrong was I, very.
A very small part of the trek.
Lets begin with a starter of long fireroad lulled into a false sense of speed, an abrupt turn, then ,to be faced with almost impenetrable bush, dense thicket,octopus like vine tendrils, savage springy trees , ankle snapper roots and to add to the cauldron of horror we now had rain.
I got splatted in the face numerous times by twanged branches, I closed my eyes every time to preserve my, well, my sight!
It was steep, slow and hilarious. The absurdity of it was amusing, this is stupid and a good time to remind ourselves we paid to do it.
A whole day had passed and we franticly wanted to get to the ropes before dark just to try and make our lives easier and to enjoy what we could feel was an amazing vista.
A storm had joined us and began slapping us around.
We approached a huge granite apron , I could grasp its enormity even in the dark, I had the stark realisation that I needed to switch my slow paced brain on.
We rappelled down its grey hard face, water streaming down with the grip, my gloves sodden through , clumsy, fumbling fists trying to untie a simple prussic felt like a mensa puzzle. “Ffs Rickie hurry up”
My own hurried monologue.
Again a course change , we could not keep our height as the ridge was now out of bounds, this sucked. I've never been on the ridge but where we ended up next was bloody dangerous in the dark in a storm and id say I have a high tolerance of risk in this kind of environment.
After hours of trying to contour rough ground we needed to gain height the problem was we had gotten into some extremely steep slab terrain. After trying to get up some dodgy ,grass flakes, I had had enough.
We were all spread out ,franticly trying to find a way up.
I could see we were compounding errors and the calculated risk was compromised , compromised by our inability to think and communicate clearly with each other,compromised by the weather and compromised by our urgency.
I wasn’t prepared to keep pushing our luck, If anything happened. I could not explain my actions as I knew my actions were wrong.
I was the only one of this opinion at this point and we will never know what we could’ve got away with but I had to reluctantly force the point that we must stop because too many alarms were going off in my brain.
It was difficult because hyperthermia was a risk, again another reason for wanting to push on But if being on mountain rescue has taught me one thing ,its that it doesn’t matter if the group thinks one thing you need to say out loud if you think somethings not right- thats what team work looks like.
I was adamant and grumpy that we were going to stop. I didn’t wanna to stop either, but I also wanted everyone to get home after all.
So ,our option was to get in the bothy bag until daybreak. I had plenty of layers plus I wrapped a foil blanket underneath my many layers . Four humans in a bothy bag is urr,cosy and is a condensation heavy environment and certainly not like fun camping with pals.
It was up there in my top three roughest nights but we didn’t die .
In the morning, we were frustrated by our time loss but determined to gain that ridge ,the storm had wained and we finally broke through to the ridgeline.
It felt like such a victory to survive the night and emerge like butterflies from a soggy cocoon .
“It’s a new dawn it’s a new day.” Famous song lyrics that ring in my head when a new day arrives and with that the opportunity to start a fresh and re frame my feelings, we are where we are and now we keep going.
For a brief moment we covered some gloriously swift ground only to be thwarted with the final 3km bushwack which took three hours !
At times we were crawling through a fridgid creek bed whilst bush waking, intertwined with all the usual suspects was a new variant of a spiky devil plant, I covered all my skin as I could tell just by looking at this devil it would turn me into a red itchy blob, this place could make you seriously lose your shit, it grabs you scratches you hits you ,pulls you back tears your waterproof trousers into shreds and plays never-ending labyrinth mind games with you.
I made sure anything in my rucksack was tied down tight as we found various evidence where the plants had won the battle against the other racers finding gloves, poles ,snacks all sorts torn from people.
The final kilometre we basically sat on our arses through an old growth forest it was so loose you couldn’t stay upright and we surfed the mud and fell un glamorously to our knees and sometimes our heads.
I could’ve kissed that fire road when I saw it at the end and I’m pretty sure I shouted unceremoniously ‘fuck you ‘ to that bush.
The second night of the trek was upon us and snacks were at an all time low, a final 12km smashfest to TA11 brought us to 37hrs for that leg, we had estimated 20hrs.
Mary and Lizi came out to see us after the crux trek.
My brand new waterproof trousers after the trek.
Some torture occured at this TA , a golden warm woodburner tempeted those of a weary heart, the room smelt of man sweat and fusty feet but that did not dampen my desire to lie down near that woodburner, romantic nostalgia of winter nights at home, I even looked at the dam thing with scorn which is hilarious looking back “ thou shalt not fall into the comfort trap”.
On the bikes We really messed up trying to find a particular track in the dark, new roads , old roads, snowmobile tracks, unmapped paths , we couldnt make sense of it.
I admired another racer who had her spare socks on her hands and sandwhich bags as gloves , it made me chuckle and i could totally relate!
A visit to a local trading post scared the hell out of me , the shop was filled with creepy life size ( and some bigger than me) horror dolls , think Chucky, that made awful noises and leered creepily over my shoulder as I looked at the cakes.
I walked through the door to be greeted by a knife wielding doll, it was like a dark nightmare and so bizarre that it was very funny indeed, even the shop dog was terrified. I swear this did happen as everyone else remembers it too.
We biffed round an orienteering course on china ridge. At this point I started to allow that gentle seeping joy of possibly finishing into my body. I wanted to surf that whole body wave of happiness.
That deep elusive feeling of peace.
Feeling very aware that this is a fleeting powerful sense of fulfiment I held onto it and savoured it, i held it like id never see it again.
I don’t know how to get this feeling any other way , it makes me question my life.
How can this feeling exist yet I can’t find it anywhere but here, at the edge.
With said lovely feeling came the not so lovely stingy bum sensation. A very familiar feeling amongst the long distance cyclist luckily it was a mere 114km along the kettle valley rail trail.
The gravel seemed uphill out of town and the pace was declining, I had an urge to go faster but alas the pace was now ‘the pace’ .
Let me explain ‘the pace’ its an unsaid acceptance that you can no longer go any other speed than what you are currently going, there is no debate or cajoling, no amount of sweets or caffeine pills will effect ‘the pace’ this is it , our movement is this or nothing, its a silent handshake of an agreement that all of us must accept.
Occasionally you can emerge out of the dark tunnel that is ‘the pace’ but sometimes it becomes set in like concrete.
My first time in a canadian canoe was at 3am in the final lake towards the finish.
I surprisingly had some brain power to co ordinate my arms to pull the paddle in a sort of semi useful stroke.
The stars shone even brighter tonight , clouds made curious shapes above me, looking up made me dizzy but I was too curious not to look, the waves were playfully bouncy yet I remained dry and comfortable sat on the hard seat at the front of the canoe .
Canoeing to the end gave me time to reflect , time to say goodbye to part of me that id left out there and time to welcome the new tapestry of memories into what was left of me now.
Part of me is an athlete but a bigger part of me is just a girl in a world that has never made sense , yet out there , in the wild , I have no questions that need answers, just a sense of hopeful awe and wonder and for a brief moment in time its a perfect world to be in.
We made it .
Here is a link to tempt you….
Words: Me
Photos: Guillermo Gutierrez
Mary
I raced with Ian, Gary and Cranny but have written this from my point of view, each of us would have lived our own emotions and versions and although we share the journey we all feel it differently.
