Spring Bloom 2026

Bushwhacking and Tush Smacking

 

               I’ve had the pleasure of racing in four of Broad Run’s races over the past few years. I don’t know if there is another regularly occurring race that I’ve enjoyed more. Every time I plan to do one I go into it thinking it’s such a fun, beginner friendly race that I won’t have to really think all too hard, only to have my arrogance humbled. And I think it’s that mixture of approachability and ego-deflation that keeps me coming back for more. After coming off a podium finish (divisional, not overall) from the Fall Foliage race, Chris and I decided to sign up for the Spring Bloom with the goal to have a similar finish. While I still think that accolade was a fluke, I loved the idea of keeping up the standard.

We made the trip down to Fredericksburg into a combo adult getaway and we reserved a AirBNB for the entire weekend. Friday afternoon we faced the customary traffic sludge around Washington and eventually pulled into Motts Run Reservoir to grab our maps, packets, and swag. I had really hoped we would run into at least a few familiar faces and have a chance to chat while we were there, but everyone seemed to be down to business and we were in and out in less than 10 minutes. After a quick trip into Wal-mart, and grabbing some take out for dinner, we headed to our little home away from home to pour over our precious maps and fill our bellies.

While indulging in cuisine that WE actually chose, rather than dictated by our brood of kiddos, we read over race rules, clues, and talked strategy. Chris said he was willing to try to clear the course until we couldn’t, and I heartily agreed. Two years ago, at the Fall Foliage, we dropped a dumb number of points way too early in the race and regretted it by the time we started the next leg. I didn’t want a redo of that feeling. So, once we cleared away the left-over blooming onion and salads, I set to work planning our routes and attack points.

Chris was puttering around filling packs and sorting bags while I squinted and stared at 5 maps. I made a comment about wanting to be able to “zoom in” on one area of the maps that was riddled with small overlapping trails. Chris got a twinkle in his eye and said he was going to the car to grab something. He came back and handed me something that simultaneously made me cringe and eagerly reach for. My late father’s reading glasses. It was like Rafiki was leaning over my shoulder whispering “It is time.” I dawned the gawdy dollar store spectacles and gazed upon a whole new map. I could see defined details that were squiggly blobs just moments before. Well dang. I’m not ready to buy a pair of my own, but I can tell you that I know where those glasses are now…. Just in case I may need them for similar minute details. Not every day reading, yet…

After an hour or so of plotting, scheming, and marking, I was satisfied with our plan. Chris said he trusted whatever I was strategizing and didn’t feel the need to look over much. With packs packed, clothes laid out, and coffee set, we got showers and headed to bed at a relatively decent hour. Pre-race sleep is never perfect, but it was sufficient.

Saturday morning we got up, dressed, caffeinated, and were out the door by 6am. When we pulled into the bike drop we were so surprised and elated to be recognized by some really lovely volunteers. While I don’t think they knew our actual names, they knew we were team “Bushwhacking and Tush Smacking!” I love that our team name is memorable enough to make people giggle.

After attaching bike boards, pumping tires, and positioning bikes, we were back on the road and pulling into Motts Run again by 6:30. We were guided to park directly next to our friends and fellow teammates from Delmarva Adventure Sports! Kristin and her youngest two kiddos were taking on the 4 hour course while the Stevensons and Dennis and his son Dawson were going to be competing in the 15 hour. We hopped out and chatted with everyone for a few minutes before ambling down to the check in to grab our e-punch and tracker. Climbing back up the hill to the car I felt stupid winded and wondered if I had even trained for this race over the past few weeks. Trust me, I had.

We ran into a few more familiar faces while we were waiting for the buses to arrive and stood around chatting while slathering on sunblock and bug spray. Eventually, it was time to climb onto the bus and claim our seats. Our chatting caused us to miss the first bus, but we slipped onto the second bus and were on the road to the start by 7:30am. After a relatively short ride, and a front row seat to a very recent car accident on a narrow bridge, we arrived to a dirt road. Everyone unloaded off the bus, grabbed their packs and paddle bags, and began a quarter mile walk down to the official race start.

There were at least 2 or 3 more bus loads of racers that had to arrive to the start before the race briefing could begin, so naturally, I had to chat it up with some new faces. We met two other 2-person co-ed teams standing to either side of us and enjoyed about a half hour of fun, AR centered conversation. One couple (Overly Lost, I think) was from North Carolina and recognized our team name from a race we entered last year, but we had had to defer because of a knee issue I had had. I really enjoyed their laid-back, but engaging personalities and wish they weren’t moving to the west coast this summer. I would have loved the chance to run into them again! The other couple (I didn’t catch their team name, but I remember him saying his name was Monopoly) was from closer by and were also fun and enthusiastic. I love competition, but I really love meeting new friends!

Eventually, Allen made an announcement that the final bus was unloading at the top of the hill, and all the racers would be arriving shortly. We moved closer to the megaphone so we could hear all the details well. As racers trickled in from the dirt road, Allen discussed details about the course, the water levels, and the weather forecast. Everything seemed in line and set. The prologue was still a secret at this point, and all he hinted at was that no one was going to be able to run straight out and start the course. He is so well known for his inventive and memorable schemes at spreading out the field. He did not disappoint for this one!

Prologue (Leg 1) Hunting Run Conservancy 3/4 points

Once the countdown was complete, there was a mad dash for two bins of plastic baggies. Every team needed to grab one bag and begin the challenge. I ran up and grabbed ours and sprinted back to Chris. It was a full-size puzzle! Granted, the pieces were blessedly large, but we had to assemble the puzzle to see the map for the prologue! Four points were dispersed around the area, with their exact positioning only marked on the puzzle map. Now, trying to run through the woods, while keeping a puzzle together is not only challenging, but we discovered it was impossible. Chris astutely thought to transpose the CPs onto our map that began the next leg. Once we did that, we were off! We got CPs 2, 3, and 4 without a hitch. While we were hightailing it back to CP 1, we saw a few boats heading in the direction we thought the final CP was. I’m not sure if we imagined it, but we assumed it was legal to hop in the boats, and paddle upstream to that last CP. So, we claimed a boat, threw all our gear into it, and headed to the boat launch. Once we were finally settled into the canoe, we aimed upstream and began paddling against the current. The kind volunteers pointed out that we were going in the wrong direction. When we told them we were paddling upstream to grab CP 1 they broke the news that that was not legal! In hindsight, I know it wasn’t. Once you start a new leg of a race, CPs from the previous leg are no longer available to you. But since we knew there were so many embedded trek sections along this upcoming paddle, we assumed it was cool for this point. Alas, we assumed wrong. I told Chris we could park the boat and run and grab the point, but he said it would be a waste of time at that point. It hurt, but we had to let that one go.

Leg 2 FXBG by Paddle: The Rapidan, Rappahannock + Lake Mooney 21/23 points

The Rappahannock river is apparently THE river to canoe in the area. When water levels are average, the river boasts multiple class 1 and class 2 rapids. Water levels were not average on April 25, 2026. In fact, Allen had told everyone that the water levels were actually at a record low for this date of the year. He also gave us the *rough* estimate that we would be able to paddle 90% and have to hike a raft 10% of the paddle. I think he is quite the optimist. While we were definitely able to paddle a majority of the trip, there were far more grumbles and choice words coming from my dear husband, and truth be told, even me, than normal for a paddle leg. What really saved the leg were the multitude of mini trek sections along the way. Every time I felt like Chris, or I, was getting enough of the hauling, scooting, and rock slamming, it was time to hop out and grab a few points in the woods.

Our first departure from the canoe bought us to an easy CP at a reentrant on the north side of the river. Directly after that we parked our boat among a smattering of other vessels, tied up to a hanging tree, and scaled a small, steep embankment. A DNREC officer was perched on a 4-wheeler appearing bored beyond belief and wanting to be anywhere but parked at this spot watching fools clamor up from the river. Chris and I found our CP and then our trailhead and began down a path to the following 2 CPs in this small trek section. Many teams were in various forms of jogging, running and shuffling along the trail. Chris and I usually don't run, unless I get just too antsy and he doesn't feel like arguing. We found the stream I was looking for, followed it to CP 8, then turned around and backtracked back across the trail to CP 9 and punched it. Rather than retrace our steps again, we chose to bushwhack southwest back to the trail. It worked perfectly and saved us just a few short minutes.

Back at the boat, we hopped in and shoved off from shore after ping ponging through rocks, teams, and a few small rapids. As hard as we were trying to keep dry-ish feet, all was lost at this point. We both had to jump out of the canoe and haul it through multiple sections of ankle-deep water. Eventually the river deepened and we could paddle for a section without bracing for impact repeatedly. There were only 2 CPs along the river over the next few miles, so we settled into a steady paddle pace and enjoyed conversations with other teams cruising along at our speed. 

Soon enough we came to a section of river where I had to start really paying attention to find my intended landing spot. We passed a few more elite level teams who had docked further upstream than I had planned and I began to second guess my approach. Chris encouraged me to stick with my plan and we held steady until I saw the shoreline features I was searching for. We hopped out, tied up, and scaled another embankment directly onto the trail I was hoping to find. The map was mapping perfectly, and we found CP 18 up a steep reentrant without a problem. We returned to the trail and headed southeast snacking on m&ms and eyeing the terrain. I realized around this time I had been foolishly juggling too many things in my hands and had lost my compass. Actually, it was Chris's compass. I had lost my compass back at home while we were packing. As per his norm in being vigilant in all the ways I am not, Chris had a back-up-back-up compass he handed over with a slightly knowing smile. We were looking for a bend in the trail before we would pop into the woods for CP 19. I jumped the gun as soon as I saw the trail veer to the left and hauled Chris into the woods with me too early. After about 5 minutes I realized the error of my ways, and we returned to the trail. After closer inspection I saw my goof and we found the CP easy peasy. We returned to the trail that led us back to our canoe and headed directly across the river to the next trek section that held a smattering of points. 

We found CPs 11, 14, and 13 going in a counterclockwise route. Many familiar faces were passing us in the opposite direction, and I figured they all knew something I didn't, because it looked far more difficult to find the points coming from their direction. Either way, we were committed to this route. I blundered a little on choosing where to dive into the woods to find CP 12, but Chris thought through my plan with me and we agreed. When we finally headed in for the reentrant, we found the CP relatively easily. We slid down the reentrant further and located a decent trail that wasn't on the map which serendipitously brought us right back to our canoe. 

Less than 3 minutes down the river and we were back out to grab 2 more points. We passed a few teenagers who looked like they were so confused as to why their hidden hangout point along the river was inundated with crazy adults all scurrying this way and that. Chris and I trudged through some ankle deep sludge to climb the first reentrant with CP 15. After punching that one, we scaled the steep hillside and found ourselves on my intended trail. We did a quick out and back along this trail and ran into the Monopoly team. Together we punched CP 17 and then headed back to our canoes. As we were converging with another trail, we saw our friends the Stevensons coming up from a totally different direction. They had remained on land to grab these additional CPs rather than float downstream. I love how so many different plans can all have such a relatively similar result. 

We got back to the canoe, paddled less than a minute and hopped out yet again for another CP that was housed pretty close to the mouth of a small stream. While we were crawling back into our boat that was docked ever so precariously, the Monopoly team arrived to hit CP 16 just after us. The poor guy was crossing his fingers that he could just hop out and land in relatively shallow water. Alas, when he scooted off the side of their canoe, he found himself in water over his head! After some gasping and sputtering, he came out of the muddy depths just fine, albeit a little chillier and humbled. 

CPs 21 and 20 were obtained without incident on the opposite shoreline just a few minutes downriver. I discovered my love for moon pies on this little hike. I think my standard oatmeal cream pies have been usurped. We realized where we were on the river around this time and that Motts Run Reservoir was just on the far side of the land to our right. We still had a good chunk of the race to conquer before we would be back there later that night. 

We docked under a zip line that crossed the river in an attempt to located CP 22. I'm ever so thankful the director gave us a heads up about that feature, because if we would have used my approach of following a small stream just around the river bend, I don't know if we would have been able to locate the "Northmost civil war canon pit." But find it we did! This was the first CP of the race where I chose to shoot a bearing, and as it always does, I feel like I'm working some sort of sorcery when the CP appears right in front of us. Endorphins are an addicting thing.

We returned to our canoe and proceeded to paddle a few really fun little rapids without a hitch. Flowing water makes such a difference. Around this time, I began to feel like we were falling behind in our time estimates and we needed to reevaluate the plan to clear the course. Chris agreed we should probably drop at least one of these upcoming mini treks in favor of getting to the bikes before dark. Looking at the maps, CPs 23 and 24 looked to have a painful amount of elevation in comparison to CPs 25 and 26.  We decided to drop the first two and grab the easier couplet. We docked by some large boulders and punched 26 which was right on the shoreline. We then found our needed trail and followed it to a sharp turn and then began rock scrambling up a decent sized stream toward CP 25. We crossed paths with the Overly duo and exchanged cheers of excitement and laments of distress over the course so far. When Kelli asked where Chris was, I looked back and realized he was not directly behind me. I told her he was coming up somewhere close by, I hadn't lost him yet! Chris is not as loving of rock hopping as I am, and he was picking and choosing his footing far more cautiously than me. I found the CP nestled to the right of a quaint waterfall and headed back toward my Christopher. We made it back to the canoe as the rains began. We had lucked out so far and remained relatively dry throughout the day. That was all coming to a rapid end.  

It was in this section of the river where I nearly lost my joy of the paddle. While we were choosing great lines and making good time, the presence of EMTs and uniformed patrolmen made me slightly nervous about the upcoming rapids. We were paddling along with 2 or 3 other teams and all choosing different routes through the large rocks and pillars of the route 95 bridges. Just a short section after we passed the bridge our luck ran out. We came to a small section of swift moving water and were not aimed nose first. The left side of our canoe struck a submerged rock and threw off our balance. We both over compensated and leaned too far to the side, allowing the brisk waters of the Rappahannock River to invade our vessel. Without a chance of righting ourselves, we both tumbled overboard along with all our gear. I saw my map case floating away and scrambled to grab it. In that effort I somehow decided to let go of my paddle and once I had my maps I had to lunge over to grab my paddle before it wondered off. Chris was all the while scoping out a place to get ourselves together. He pulled our canoe over to a cluster of larger rocks and together we wrung out our waterlogged gear bags, lifted the canoe and emptied out the tanker of water that had turned us and our gear into the soggy mess we had become. I was overly impressed with how even keeled and calm Chris was through the whole ordeal. Its like minor annoyances get to him but major catastrophes are totally manageable.  

Downriver a group of emergency personal watched. I wouldn't have wanted them to scramble up to help us, because I would have been too embarrassed to accept any assistance, but I had to laugh at their total lack of concern at our situation. Once we were reorganized and floating again, we proceeded to pinball our way down the river to CP 27 and the takeout. We emerged from the river cold and wet, but eager to continue on. Chris single handedly hauled the canoe up the steep stairs while I pointlessly tried to assist him. Man strength is real. We were encouraged by the kind volunteer and set off down a short riverside trail to our waiting bikes and chance for dry clothes. 

Leg 3 Fredericksburg Single-Track 6/12

Once we were changed into dry clothes, water bottles were filled, and the paddle bag was repacked, we were on our bikes and cruising off into the fading light. The rain had turned to a light mist, but I had decided to layer up with 2 shirts and my raincoat, just to stay warm. After a quick haul down a flat riverside trail, we turned onto a gravel road with a blood-pumping uphill climb. I was sufficiently warmed up by the time we got to the gate at the top. We found ourselves at some ball fields and easily found the trailhead we needed to dive into the first smattering of bike trails we would be scurrying along. Our first point looked to be a quick and easy punch. Kinda helps if you look at the correct clue when you're wondering along in the woods at night. I had thought the clue was "between two earth mounds" so when the CP was encased in a "chimney? well? sneakily large steel pipe" you have a little bit of a hard time locating it. After a few back and forths, some questioning how I can call myself a navigator, and shamelessly following a smattering of other teams, we found CP 28. 

I confirmed, for sure this time, what the next clue was and where we were on the map and we headed off for CP 29. Well before where I thought I would need to start looking for the CP, we came upon a whole cackle of racers scaling a small stream to the left of the trail. After having come off a fuddled search for the previous CP, I assumed I was totally off again, and that this herd of racers knew something I didn't. I get why I didn't follow my gut, but we wasted probably 15 minutes in the herd mentality. Once we separated from the pack, and I was able to reorient myself, I found the actual trail intersection I had been looking for and proceeded to confirm map features with the real world until I caught the reflection of a beloved CP flag *almost* precisely where I thought it would be. Another team came upon us as I was scurrying out of the woods and were happy to be clued into their whereabouts on the map. We hopped back on our bikes and followed a super fun single-track trail down to a large gravel road that led us under RT 95 and onto the "float challenge."

Coming up to a small parking lot, we were greeted by dang near one of the friendliest and excited volunteers I've ever had the pleasure of making contact with. He enthusiastically explained the challenge to us. I am no paddle-board aficionado, but I certainly enjoy it more than Chris does. For that reason, I dropped my pack, grabbed a paddle board, life vest, and a paddle, and proceeded to scurry out and back across the Fredericksburg Quarry to punch CP 30. I caught sight of the familiar Delmarva Adventure Sports jersey and gave Justin a jovial "hello" as we crossed water-paths out on the water.

I returned to the shoreline still dry and well, and Chris and I were off again. We had our sights set on CP 32, choosing to leave CP 31 out. We started up a trail labeled as a black diamond. While we were doing totally fine, I started to have the feeling we were making poor choices and would not have enough time for anything on the final leg if we committed to taking this trail. I stopped to talk our options through with Chris, and together we decided to return to the flat riverside trail that would lead us all the way back to Motts Run far quicker than this undulating and technical route. We returned to the base of the trail and headed west. The trail was perfect for getting our speed up and enjoying some flowy dips and turns. Twice along this route I stopped to consider popping up the hillside to grab a point, but each time Chris (and I) were discouraged by the time and effort it would take to grab said points. We hauled on and eventually made it to the edge of Motts Run Reservoir. This meant we had blown past CP 35. We dropped the bikes and hiked back a short little section until we spotted the flag hanging in some ruins. 

When we got back to the bikes, we had a major decision to make. We could go on to the left and complete the bike section, grabbing 3 more points, all appearing to be easy enough to find. OR, we could go to the right, head back to the TA, and head out on the final leg which would include more paddling and trekking. I had fallen behind in my nutrition and had been struggling up a few of the hills along the final portion of that riverside trail. My mind was ready for a break from navigating, and I was open to whatever Chris was thinking he preferred. He said given the option; he wouldn't mind not having to get back in a canoe for the rest of his life. So, without further consideration or common sense, we headed off to the left. 

The maps for this race were all 1:11000. Map scales still confuse me, but I knew that each block on this map was only 1km. Eyeballing the distance and not allotting for the tightly woven trail that encircled the reservoir, I figured I would take us less than an hour to make it around and back to the TA. I was also at the point in the race where my precise navigating takes a backseat and I make dumb broad assumptions on what I'm seeing on the map. I did not pay attention. Like, to anything. When we thought we had arrived to where CP 36 would be, we were really an entire peninsula too early. Another racer blew past us giving us a look of pity in our obviously oblivious state. We actually thought we had blown past the CP, decided to cut our losses and head on for CP 37 with the clue "under a bridge." There was no way we would miss that one. We kept cruising along, convincing ourselves we were so much further along the map than we actually were every time we came to a feature. A trail intersection, a tight bend in the trail, a river crossing. Eventually, this began to fail. Nothing was making sense. The terrain became this Naria-like forest (minus the snow), fireworks were going off in the distance, and I was painfully and inexcusable lost. 

I honestly started to believe we had entered a wormhole and were in some sort of time vortex. The trail kept going and going, I had almost completely given up trying to figure out where we were. All I was relying on was the fact that EVENTUALLY we would have to come to the road that leads to the TA and we would just head in for the final leg. Time was racing past us, and I started to feel those disgusting and corrosive thoughts of failure and renunciation. I apologized to Chris for failing him as a navigator, and he soothed my damaged ego as best he could. We resolved ourselves to the fact that we were stuck on this trail until the end and decided to enjoy it for what it was, because it was actually a really fun and punchy single track! Almost as soon as I switched my mentality to just enjoying the ride, I caught a glimpse of a reflective strip underneath a bridge. Seriously?!? We were only at CP 37?!? How in the world did I get THAT misplaced on the map?

I can laugh at our situation now, but we were honestly thinking we had somehow left the entire park, ridden for miles on some obscure and unmapped trail, and returned to the park without knowing it. Foolishness. I had just gotten lazy and inattentive. Lesson learned. Don't get lazy and assumptive. Now that we finally knew where we were, time became an even bigger issue. We had to haul it back to the TA just to be able to grab a single point on the final leg so that we could remain official finishers. So, haul it we did. It honestly still seems like we made it from CP 37 to the TA in way less time than it took us to do the initial portion of the that bike trail. 

We came flying into a nearly empty TA. We may not have been the very last team to show up, but we were certainly one of the stragglers. Jeremy from Broad Run very politely asked if we were still planning to paddle any. We both laughed and said absolutely not. All we figured we had time for was to grab one solitary point on the last leg and lick our egotistical wounds. He agreed. We found CP 39, the final CP on leg 2, after passing it twice in a confused stupor. 

Leg 4 Mott/s Run Reservoir Paddle/Trek 1/12 points

The final leg could have been what saved us. We could have made that right turn instead of the left turn of doom and spent the 2 + hours grabbing point after point along the banks of Motts Run Reservoir. Alas. All we had time for was one piddly mercy point that had been placed along the Silo Hiking Trail. We punch CP 52 and turned directly back toward the finish line. It was 11:50. I told Chris we had to at shuffle a little faster just to make it back in time and he reminded me that we had a 15-minute grace period from the late start that morning. He also quickly pointed out he had no desire to go hail-Mary-ing off to grab "just one more point." I agreed. Our race was sealed.  We walked hand in hand along the trail back to the main road and crossed over to the finish.

We handed over our E-punch and tracker to Mark and he congratulated us. After the obligatory finish line photo, we grabbed some coveted Panera sandwiches and Dominos pizza and found a little spot to rest our beaten bodies. We cheered as friends and strangers crossed the finish line in the final minutes of the race. Looking around at the rest of the field of racers I could tell that some had had a near perfect race, some had had their butts handed to them, and some had had an experience similar to ours, but everyone looked satisfied and wonderfully exhausted.

Allen grabbed everyone's attention and the divisional winners were announced. Our buddies the Stevensons nabbed third in our division, and our new friends the Overly's had won our division! So awesome!! We cheered for them all, as well as the rest of the podium winners. We ended up 4th in our division and 30/67 overall. I'll take it after our total debacle on the bike leg! 

After awards Allen made the thrilling announcement that Broad Run Off Road would be hosting the 2027 National Championships in Virginia! So exciting! After a solid congratulatory applause, he made a few more announcements about upcoming races and thanks to everyone for coming out. 

As racers were making their way back to their cars, Chris and I took the opportunity to chat a little longer with a few friends, volunteers, and Allen. I really love the AR community so much. I have no idea what most of these people are like in their "real" lives, but I adore the connections we all make in our "AR" lives. I am already looking forward to my next fix of endorphins, energy depletion, and ego deflation!