Endless Mountains 2026 Race Morning and Prologue

5/5 Mandatory

0/0 Optional 

I could be wrong, but I think its a universal truth that one simply does not wake up to an alarm when there is a major event on the horizon of your day. Case in point, the morning of the 2026 Endless Mountains Adventure Race I don't think any of us actually slept until our alarms began clanging at 4:45. I had slept with earplugs in to ward off the erratic and echoing breathing pattern of my male teammate, so when I pulled them out I was surprised to hear such activity in the hall of our dorm. The whole floor was in a flurry of early morning activity. One by one, we emerged from our cozy beds and headed out to the bathrooms to prep for the day(s) ahead.

I struck up a conversation with a delightful lady who appeared to be as cool, calm, and collected as possible on the dawn of such a big day. I can't remember her name, but she was planning to volunteer for the main race until Friday, where she would be taking on the Lite race as a solo female. Awesomeness. Becky came into the bathroom and we locked eyes in the mirror and let out a simultaneous squeal of excitement. We couldn't get over the fact we were ACTUALLY DOING THIS!! If I could take that feeling, bottle it up and sell it, I think I would be able to put the drug cartel out of business. There really isn't a better "high" in my mind! Glee, anticipation, elation, trepidation, confidence, and a little sprinkling of fear all rolled into one. 

We returned to the dorm room, finalized our prep, shouldered our packs, and headed down to the parking lot to the three awaiting school buses. We boarded the first bus and claimed the first two rows of seats behind the driver. We had a two hour ride ahead of us, and I struggle with motion sickness on these big blundering buses. Gradually our bus filled up and soon it was time for Abby to pop onto each bus and call out the roster to ensure all teams were accounted for. Once every box was checked our fleet of vehicles started the departure from Hoosac Hall where we would not return for many days. I knew the next time I laid eyes on this place I would be a changed person.

While our destination wasn't all that terribly remote, there were no facilities at the start line, and if you need to know anything about adventure racers, its the fact we all have to drop extra "weight" before we toe the line. For that reason, we made a "pit stop" at a boat ramp on the South Bay of Lake Champlain that would serve as our first transition area of the race. Everyone filed off the buses and meandered into long lines for the four porta pots. Brent took advantage of the pause in the ride and held the captain's meeting to review a few major points and allow for questions. Once all the info was divulged and questions were answered, the throng of racers returned to our chariots and we continued on our journey to Mt. Defiance. 

Soon enough we arrived to the base of Mt Defiance and sprang from our seats on the bus. Emerging into the cool morning air we congregated around some gates at the base of a road that appeared to go up, up, up. Teams were all huddled up together awaiting further instructions. The amount of accents and languages floating through the air were awesome! I think nearly 10 countries were represented between racers and volunteers. Brent was bebopping through the crowd, stopping to chat with every team. Its uncanny how he and Abby can make every single racer feel seen and cared for. I can't sing their praises enough. 

The plan was that all teams would make the mile long trek up the mountain, via paved road, to the top and awaiting start line. Unfortunately, the gates remained closed. I'm not sure who was in charge of opening them, but it felt like someone was not where they needed to be at the correct time. Ideally, Brent wanted the media crew to go ahead of the swarm of racers so as to capture images of teams calmly ascending the mountain together. However, you can only hold back that much bottled energy for so long, and eventually Brent gave everyone the green light to WALK up the road. It was a strange feeling to be ambling up a route at the same pace as many of the top teams. No one was red-lining anything at this point. The race had not started yet, and this trek wasn't even part of the race! Becky and I refused to not get "credit" for the effort, so we both started our watches and logged a quick 1 mile "Ticonderoga Walking" activity.

The views from the top of the mountain were stunning. Off in the distance to the left we could see Fort Ticonderoga and to the right the calm waters of the southern tail of Lake Champlain. Every mountain and valley I could see beyond that body of water represented the upcoming adventures we would be taking on. Somewhere waaaaaaaaaay out in that direction was North Adams, but countless efforts and endeavors lay between here and there. 

Beneath a huge waving American flag, Anna Stewart, another racer, sang out a stunning rendition of our national anthem. Her voice was so beautiful and refined I gave up trying to sing along about a third of the way through. The Canadian national anthem was also sang, being as a pretty substantial portion of the field hailed from our northern neighbor. Once the ARWS referee had given his schpeel, and Brent had announced a few final points, we all turned to two men dressed in colonial attire and Brent began the countdown. The guys didn't get the memo they were to shoot their antique muzzleloaders after "TWO" so there was a brief awkward pause. Brent giggled and called out "ONE" and the guns exploded as racers poured between the Rootstock flags and the race officially began. 

We hung toward the back of the crowd to allow all that energy and angst to pour out ahead of us. Once we were on the descending road, we picked up the slightest of a jog and fell in line with a few other teams with the same mentality. By the time we got to the bottom of the road, Brent was passing us in his car and called out to us. "Dan?!?! They already got you to run?!?" Apparently racing with women gave him a little uncharacteristic pep in his step!

We wove through the streets of Ticonderoga and smiled at every person we passed. We were just so happy to be starting this much anticipated adventure! A pair of school aged children were puttering around a side street and watching the chaos of 30+ teams race past them. I asked them if they were on summer break but I don't think they were prepared to interact with us, even in our clean and fresh state of being. If only they could see us in 3 days they probably would have ran to the mamas!

The cackle of racers we were surrounded by all split at a road intersection. We all obviously had the same destination, but the varying route choices had begun. We converged back with the pack within a quarter mile and all descended on the first checkpoint of the race. Dan and Becky gave me the honors of punching the very first point on our passport, which was located on a fence railing overlooking a small dam. I thought in my head "so it begins." We trotted back to the trail and b-lined to the following 4 CPs without a hitch. Our final CP was hanging on the front porch of the "Pen and Paper Restaurant" where we checked in and were handed our two packets of maps for the rest of our race. 

The entire back deck and front bar area was already riddled with teams pouring over the maps and plotting routes and strategies. We would have loved a table to sit and plan at, but the only options were tables set with fine dining cups, plates, and cutlery. There was something  inconducive to messing up those perfectly set tables and taking over with our rough and rowdy race presence. We chose to set up our spot on the floor under a beautiful painting of a peaceful flower riddled meadow. Dan noted that the price tag on the art eluded to the fact this was not an establishment normally geared toward the filthy outdoor crowd, but more the refined and elegant crowd. Meh. We wouldn't harm anything by hanging out on the floor for a spell.  

Dan went off to retrieve our coveted breakfast burritos and orange juice we had previously ordered and Becky and I set to gazing over our cartographic curiosities. While I was so tempted to lay out the entire race map by map, time was of the essence, and we had planned to only really focus on the first stage of the race. We planned to pause at each TA and look over the upcoming stages one by one as we arrived to them. I struggled to focus on our task and relied on Becky to keep me on track. We had our game plan for the upcoming embedded trek and paddle. It was time to pack it up and head out. Dan kindly filled all our water, we made one last pit stop in an actual bathroom with a flushing toilet (quite the luxury on these races) and we checked out with Zoe. Brent and Abby have two children who have grown up in the world of AR and both have assumed many roles in the workings of the race. While Zoe is totally capable of helping out with logistical positions, Simon is more of the comic relief and helper in lightening your snack load, if you're need of off loading some tasty treats. I'm sure he and my youngest would get along swimmingly if they ever had the chance to pal around.

We left the restaurant and paused for a moment to orient ourselves to the map. The boat launch was just a hop skip and jump away, but it took me a second to "get into the map." After only a few glances back and forth between the map and the terrain we had our wits about us and honed in directly to the boat launch. Coming over the hill we saw a splattering of boats, paddle bags, and racers scurrying every which way. We were hustling up to the first proper stage of the race. No turning back now friends. Lets do this.