The Huracan 300 - Finding the Ethos Of Adventure Racing
This post will be sans many photos because I left my main camera at the campsite. However, I did experience a chunk of the route during a pre-ride a few weeks before and produced some visuals for this post. I had a mission at hand, and I needed to accomplish it. I never factored picture-making into this Adventure, my goal was to redeem a failed attempt and rather a failed attitude towards Adventure racing I experienced at last year's edition of the Huracan 300. In order to accomplish my goals this year, I had to come to terms with what adventure racing meant to me. This topic was at the front of my mind many times during training and racing last year and on the route this year in Florida.
The original Hurracan 300 route is closer to 370 miles and involves quite a bit of mountain biking, many wilderness detours, and epic gravel roads. The lite route is more of a Gravel-focused course and covers much of the same parts of the original without the tricky bits. Karlos, the master route engineer, might be the most passionate person when it comes to Florida’s backcountry and what it has to offer.
Rewind to February 2022, and my friend Mike had talked me into this adventure race in Central Florida. I had never been to Central Florida before; the terrain was new, and the fear of gators and snakes was high, but I did it anyways. Maybe this was poor judgment, but something was nagging me to try it. At mile 180 I pulled the plug and DNF’d, taking an Uber back to my base camp in Ocala, getting a car, and crashing at a hotel before completing the drive of shame back to my home in the Upstate of SC. Was my fitness not adequate? No, quite the contrary, I felt incredible the whole race fitness-wise. Did I pick the wrong gear? No, while I made some changes this past year to my setup in 2022 my gear could have gotten the job done. So why did I quit? My body was fine, and I was moving at a good pace, but in my head, I did not embody and understand what Adventure racing was all about.
Step back for a moment. The race in 2022 started with a group of 4 of us leading the way and sticking together for about the first 100 miles before hitting an infamous single-track area called “Croom Trails” these trails twist and wind through the forest, and one might think they are going in circles with the amount of back and forth you do. Unfortunately, I missed the mark and accidentally skipped about a mile of the single track, coming up ahead of Peter, who I thought was ahead of me. We bantered for a bit, and he recommended I go back and make sure I stay true to the course, but all I could think about was how much time that was going to sacrifice, how much placement I would lose, and the horrible time I would have doing it! So, against better judgment, I continued on, only later to find out it would play with my mind for the next 70 miles. You always hit the first drop in energy in an Adventure race 12 or so hours in when your legs aren’t as fresh, and your mind is not as strong. I realized I had another 150+ miles to go and couldn’t find the will or the want to finish it. The unknown seemed bleak, and who knows what obstacles I would have to overcome to make it to the finish. Then I gave up and called it a day with two full water bottles, plenty of food, and two legs still outputting decent watts. I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand Adventure racing.
The rest of the year, this DNF bugged me endlessly. I made it hard to quit TNGA later that year, even when I had a legitimate and medically urgent reason to pull the plug. This nagging sensation for the reaming year gave me the resolve to go back and do it again, but also a reason to dig deep into why I love riding my bike or carrying it for hours and days on end. The idea hit me. It is an adventure. You don’t enter an adventure race because everything can be expected or understood. You enter an adventure race because of the unknown. You don’t know what the weather will be, if there will be a pack of wild hogs right around the bend in the road, or if you might get a flat in the middle of the night. These are all variables you can’t account for and the gamble you take in the name of the adventure experience.
Exiting the final secton of single track after 370 exillerating miles. Photo courtesy of my wife :)
This year I went back and conquered the Huracan 300 in under 30 hours (including this year's 3 hours time bonus for completing the Ghost Trail). In 2023 we got to choose our direction. I decided to go clockwise on the loop despite having more wind issues and hitting some of the most technical singletrack bits later in the race. I did this primarily because the most challenging wilderness parts of the route were loaded in the first 100 miles, and I wanted to get those out of the way when I was fresh and poised to make them through as quickly as possible. I felt great for the first 250 miles making it to the Circle K at around mile 260 with a colossal apatite and the need for a hot cup of coffee. After annihilating around $35 of gas station breakfast food, I hopped back on the bike, ready to get at the very same single track that had put me off last year. It was magical, my front tire hit the room single track, and immediately my back stopped aching, the tension built up in my shoulders and neck released, and a big smile hit my face. This was fun! I danced through the entire trail system at nearly the same time it had taken the front guys that had gone in the opposite direction. It was at this moment it hit me. I had embodied the Adventure and found joy in the hardship of taking it on. Sure, walking through a mile-long sand trail, wading through the marshes of Ghost Trail, and flatting a tire somewhere in the green swamp only to overfill it to the point of no return, which had me ricocheting off of every little bump for the next 12+ hours had been tough. Still, it was all part of the experience, and the outcome was that I had found Joy in overcoming those obstacles.
These are three things I define Adventure racing for myself.
Adventure racing is not about winning. Adventure racing is about experiencing routes along the way and overcoming your own personal obstacles.
Adventure racing is not an activity. This isn’t the 4 hours Saturday group ride with sprint zones, and KOM’s Adventure racing takes time and space to complete. It is an adventure, not an activity. Your heart rate will change, your legs will come and go and your body will not feel its best for 90% of the time.
Adventuring racing is for all. You don’t have to be fast. You don’t need $5000 of gear strapped to an $8000 bike. Make your Adventure. It doesn’t even have to be on a bike. Do something that pushes you so far out of your comfort zone that you have a high probability of failure. (of course, within the margin of calculated risk... don’t do anything stupid, folks) Do something that you’ll come out on the other side with a sense of accomplishment and resolve to do something even bigger the next time.
You don't need to be at the pointy end of the race, and you don't even need to enter a race... but if you're doing something hard, puts you outside your comfort zone and allows you to experience something new, you will learn a new level of resolve. Race yourself and win, and enjoy the experience of doing it - this is adventure racing.
Race yourself and win, and enjoy the experience of doing it - this is adventure racing.
Learn More about Karlo’s amazing routes in Florida, including the Huracan 300, here.
