ChattaJack 31 by Joseph DiChiacchio

March 13, 2014: “Okay, I think I’m going to do a few kayak races this year.”

Rule #1: No races over 5k.

. . . .

September 12, 2014:  Aaaaannd, now I’m signed up for a 31 mile kayak race.

Historically, I tend to shy away from long distance events. I’ve never really “gotten it”.  Racing is fun, but it hurts too, and spending multiple hours in the pain cave has just never sounded appealing.  So naturally, it felt a little incongruent to find myself signing up for a thirty one mile race.

Pre Race(photo:Shawna Herring)

Chattajack 2014 from Charles Coleman on Vimeo.
The ChattaJack 31 was founded by native Chattanoogan and distance paddling mensch, Ben Friberg, whose previous exploits include paddling the Yukon 1000 and making the first ever crossing from Cuba to Florida via stand-up paddleboard. Friberg states that he wanted to create a true distance event that showcased the spectacular beauty of the Tennessee River Gorge and capitalize on the some of the unique conditions occurring during this very special time of the year in the region. He appears to be doing something right.  On only its third year, the registration hit capacity and had to be closed well in advance of race day. Prolific paddlers Joe Bark and Olympic sprint Canoe gold medalist Larry Cain were in attendance as well as paddlers from thirty three states and Canada.  In some cases, racers would ship in paddleboards only to sell them to avoid the return costs.  Many of the stand-up paddlers have even begun referring to Chattajack as the “Inland Molokai”, further raising the stocks as a go-to event for many. When asked what it is about long distance events that creates such a buzz, Friberg replied: “So much goes into the preparation. It is a true challenge, but then, when you’re out there, you find a groove and you feel the world start to move around you.”

I remain skeptical of this explanation. How can one feel the world move around them while experiencing the distinctive burn of massive lactic acid over-load.  So the shoulder angels and devils begin to work on my psyche a few weeks out; why did I sign up for this? I can’t paddle for that long. Maybe I can sell my registration. Should I suck stern straight away from start to finish?I eventually settled into the task of preparing to go to a place of physical expenditure that I have not previously known. I configured a way to deliver food, water and electrolytes on the fly and worked to resolve ergonomic issues with strategically placed cell foam. Made sure all gear needed would be ready and in working order while generally arranging for all necessary logistics.

Race day arrives with a signature October chill in the air. For the second consecutive year, as if summoned, the perfect meteorological tango creates an illuminated fog emanating from the water, creating a dramatic setting for the pending showdown under the Market Street Bridge. The energy is palpable as Coolidge Park fills with all form of paddlers tending to last minute race preparations. Competitors begin the pre-race ritual of juggling nervous energy while maintaining a modicum of focus on the task at hand.  A local high school band belts out a series of anthems as paddlers line up to launch. Once in the water, the energy culminates with a Fire Department vessel blasting their hoses to signify the start of the race.

Shot out of the cannon at the start, all previously established wisdom of conserving energy is discarded the moment the fire hoses go off as I do my best 10k race simulation and go right over red-line.  I literally do not turn around for the first 7 miles so I cannot claim with any certainty to be in the lead, but I can say that I did not hear any other paddlers and did not see any in my periphery.  With that disclaimer, I may have carried a lead as I arrived at Williams Island.  As I approach the island a choice must be made to go right or left.  I opted for the right side passage. However, what started as a confidence inspiring choice soon became a slog. Within 100 yards I encountered strong headwinds and found myself fighting to maintain significantly decreased speed. Upon rounding the other side of Williams I discovered that I had been passed by local strongman Tom Popp, who wisely chose the left side passage and largely avoided the wind. I tuck in behind and trade a few pulls before slowly bridging a little distance to take back the lead. By this point I finally settle into a nice rhythmic glide where I find my thought process completely void as I pass through the astounding beauty of the Tennessee River Gorge. I began to reside exclusively within each paddle stroke. Pull, set up, catch, leg drive, pull, set up, catch, leg drive. A bald eagle flies over head.  Am I burying my blade deep enough?  A large buck framed against the vibrant autumn leaves stops to view this strange craft pass by. Is the blade going in close enough to the hull? A large fish breaches just off my bow.  Am I creating too much drag on my exit? Hour after hour this dance continues as I paddle in total isolation through the river gorge. Wait a minute!  Is this what Friberg meant by “the world moves around you?  I feel privileged to finally acquaint myself with this experience and wonder if there is a ceremony for inclusion in this fraternity.

I hold the front for about twenty three miles until reaching Sullivan’s Landing when I begin to hear my paddle blade splash seem to create an echo. I glance over my shoulder to see that I am about to be passed by course record holder Eric Mims in his Epic V14, replete with rooster tail.  The high performance boats started thirty minutes behind all others including the kayak class, creating a cat and mouse chase over the thirty one miles.  As he glides by, I can’t help but admire his seamless paddle stroke. This observation helps take the sting out of the pass. When done properly, a perfect stroke is like a work of art and Mims paints a masterpiece.

Eric Mims 1st Place Winner 4:08:46(photo Shawna Herring)

It was about this time that I hit the wall. All “rhythmic glide” was gone. I was dying a thousand deaths and began fantasizing about giving up. The shoulder devil took position and began a series of lectures on human limitations.  Maybe I should just call it a day. My forearm is cramping. Do I hear someone paddling directly behind me?  I’m about to be passed by a thundering herd of paddlers.  I’m hungry.  I’m angry. I’m HANGRY!  What would it take to sink my ski and make it look like an accident?

Joseph DiChiacchio  (8th) 4:52:45(photo Shawna Herring)

Phil Capel (6th) 4:48:46(photo Shawna Herring)

Michael Shubert(5th)  4:42:22 (photo Shawna Herring)

Unfortunately, there is nowhere to go. By this point in the race, not even a house is visible on the river bank. If I did stop I’d be worse off than if I just trudged forward. So I continue to grind away. Nothing pretty, just ambulating toward the finish like a drunken sailor. Eventually–and by “eventually” I mean about three years later– I see the finishing specter of the now defunct Hales Bar Dam about a mile or two away. Feeling hollow and depleted, this icon of the finish did not inspire celebration but rather imbued the resolve to continue. Finally, I arrive at the finish to a crowd of onlookers and supporters ringing cowbells and cheering. As I approach the final sprint I see my son’s smiling face waving at me and am buoyed by this small gesture. I climb out of the boat with assistance as I feel that I’ve aged forty–five years in the past few hours.  I was able to hold on for a very hard–earned and surprising first place in the kayak division, second finish on the course and seventh overall upon factoring the thirty-minute stagger for the high performance group.

Eric Mims finished just shy of his previous course record, winning the overall for the second year, with Rick Carter following in second and Michael Shubert in third. Kata Dismukes won the female Surfski division by besting her previous time by fifteen minutes and setting a new course record for female ski.

Top Finishers:

Tom Popp finished a close second in the kayak division with Scott Lohman coming in third.

Former Olympic Sprint Canoe Gold medalist, competing on a 14 SUP crushed the 31 mile course with a 5:05 time.

Ted Burnell and Tom Ierardi came in with a blistering 4:54 to also set a course record in C2.

Full results:  http://chattajack.com/results/all-results/2014

Pictures by: Shawna Herring, https://www.facebook.com/shawnaherringphotography?fref=photo

Win, lose or draw, I have a sense of physical achievement without prior equal. Whether I ever do another distance race again, the ChattaJack 31 will always serve as a personal benchmark.

Ben Friberg clearly poured his heart and soul into this event and subsequently allows the ChattaJack to play out as a competitor’s dream. If you are looking for a new challenge and Molokai is not in your budget, sign up and begin your preparation for 2015.  I have it on good authority that future editions will only continue to improve. Way to go Ben!

The post race party began later in the evening, giving competitors ample time to clean up and recover for the ceremony. Wine and beer were gratis at the pavilion of Coolidge Park all while the closing act for the River Rox outdoor sports festival performed on the lawn in the back ground. Nervous energy dissipated, a warm glow of accomplishment washes over the attendees creating an environment ripe for exchanging individual stories from the day’s event.  It seemed everyone had taken away their own unique benchmarks. As I look around at the faces in the crowd I wonder if they all felt the earth move around them as well?