Part two of the series on the Devizes to Westminster race, this article was written by Dale Rothwell from Tullow Kayak Club who entered the race with his fellow club member Dermot Walsh supported by a crew of seven all from Tullow Kayak Club. Dermot and Dale had no background in marathon kayaking and devised a unique training plan involved kayaking, running, boxing, swimming and cycling 110km on a tandem bike they made from spare parts. Read on to find out all about it…
The Devizes to Westminster International Canoe Race is the world’s longest non-stop canoeing challenge. It involves paddling 125 miles, portaging 77 locks and staying awake and motivated for over 24 hours. Added to this is the pressure of having to arrive at Teddington Lock within the tidal window: miss the out-going tide and you won’t be allowed through for safety reasons meaning you are forced to retire with only 18 miles left to go. As of Easter weekend 2014 I am the proud owner of a DW Finisher’s Medal. But the DW is only a small part of my story…
It all started for me in 2010. I was on the Derreen river with some of the Tullow Kayak Club members running the “GORGE” : a small rapid usually well within my ability but that day I struggled and swam. I knew I was unfit, overweight and out of practice. Over the next week I did some hard thinking and asked myself if was I going to become a couch potato Dad or was I going to do something about it? I decided to do something.
I started paddling flat water outside the club in a Dancer once a week after the kids were put to bed. Dermot Walsh, another club member, had not paddled recently due to work and family, and I convinced him to come help with some first timers from the club. In 2011 we both entered the Liffey Decent (18 miles). This was an eye-opener for me, waiting at the finish line as Dermot crossed after four hours, totally exhausted and going to sleep the second he got into the van.
“I mentioned the DW to Dermot, who laughed at me, but it stuck in the back of my mind.”
I continued with my solo training one day a week to maintain some paddle fitness as well as running occasionally. That Summer (2011), I went on a white water paddle to Scotland. I had been there before but this time I was out of my depth as I had not been practising enough. When I got home I started to paddle twice a week and after weeks of pestering, Dermot started training with me. We paddled the 2012 Liffey Decent in my Jackson Duo (slow white water kayak) in 3 hours 5 min; a personal best for Dermot who was also full of energy at the end! It was soon after this that I learned of the Devizes to Westminster race. I mentioned it to Dermot, who laughed at me, but it stuck in the back of my mind.
In the meantime Dermot had seen the benefits of the training and was a fitter, leaner man who was no longer out of breath when playing with his kids. Compliments from his friends and family only made him want to train more. Now we started to paddle 20km at night on the Slaney regardless of temperature, wind or rain; a new adventure every night.
Easter weekend 2013, I went to Scotland again and this time fitness was not an issue. The whole time I was thinking of the DW taking place a few hundred miles further south with mixed emotions. I was fitter now, but sitting on the river Etive in Scotland at midday with the temperature gauge reading 5 degrees, I knew conditions for the DW would not be much better. Also, even though we had been talking about doing the event for some time, Dermot had still not committed. Could we handle what DW could throw at us? And, would Dermot commit to the race?
“You plan to sit in that for 24 hours?”
To get a feel for the race, Canoe Marathon Ireland kindly offered us a Peter Spence K2 kayak to have a go in. I remember looking at the kayak for the first time with Dermot’s American brother-in-law (a man of few words). His only comment was, “You plan to sit in that for 24 hours?”
Our first time in the K2 was a club night and when everyone had left we very cautiously put the kayak in the water and slowly stepped in. Away we went, wobbly at first, but ok. After two more nights at the club we felt confident enough to take on the Barrow river planning a trip from Leighlinbridge to Carlow and back. Not long after we started we both had cramped legs and feet but we kept going. The fun continued when we ran out of drinking water. We arrived in Carlow shortly after midnight where Dermot went to a chipper in full kayak gear and got some water, not to mention a few strange looks. It was on this night that Dermot coined the phrase “this is s**t, but it’s good craic” a phrase to be repeated many times during training. It was 2am by the time we arrived back at Leighlinbridge and we both had several missed calls from our wives. It was after this that Dermot made the commitment to train for the DW.
To keep things interesting we would vary our training. There was no science behind this, we just wanted to have fun. Running was great but hard on the body. We tried boxing, swimming and even cycled a 110km charity race on a tandem bicycle we made from second hand bits.
We were now regularly paddling long sections and we thought we would benefit from a lighter kayak. After a race in Celbridge we had the opportunity to try a full racing K2 and since we ending up swimming 7 times in 10 metres, it was obvious that we would have to paddle a slightly slower, more stable kayak. Luckily Thomastown Paddlers were selling some of their old stock and we found our boat.
Training continued into the winter, the cold only starting to become a problem on long paddles. We bought new hooded cags and this was solved. A bigger problem was lower back pain due to what we thought was a lean in the boat. We tried physio, pilates and even had new custom seats made, none of which seemed to solve the problem. It was on a training session with Morgan Cooper that some small issues with our paddle technique were pointed out to us. So with just 6 weeks left to go we were now trying to correct our paddle stroke. This advice did help immensely and it is here that I have to admit I was reluctant to seek help earlier despite the advice of our support crew chief Susan Doyle. I would advise anyone thinking of doing the DW: DON’T BE TOO PROUD TO ASK FOR HELP.
So after months of training on the canal at night, sometimes with our support crew (they could tell a few stories) reading maps, lock diagrams, tide times, compulsory kit, food and fluid plans we were ready to go. One kayak, two paddlers, seven support crew, fourteen crates of kit, two vehicles, a ferry ride, a four hour drive and the Tullow Kayak Club team had arrived in Devizes.
“The kayak’s shaking…”
We woke at 6.00am on the morning of the race, had a big breakfast, loaded the vehicles and headed down to the start. We had our pre-race photos and last minute checks and at last after months of work we were off at 8.05am Easter Saturday morning. Dermot remarked that the kayak was shaking but we both concluded that it was nerves. Sure enough, 30 minutes later it had stopped. 18 miles in the pound finished the first mile stone over.
Things were going well and the support team had a rhythm going, helping us to take in the estimated 20,000 calories we needed for the 24 hours and the 500ml of water per hour. Paddling through the 34 mile Newbury checkpoint we were in unknown territory as our training had never gone past the 36 mile mark. By now we had been made aware we had a large following of supporters via the live tracking webpage and social media updates from the support team and this gave us great encouragement.
“Paddling through a city was a surreal experience, and with people sitting outside pubs cheering you on, you felt it was a real adventure.”
As we passed the Cunning Man Pub, we knew Reading would not be far where the canal joined the river and a much desired flow. Paddling through a city was a surreal experience, and with people sitting outside pubs cheering you on, you felt this was a real adventure. At Dreadnought checkpoint (58miles), we had more food and a full gear change. It would be dark in the next 40 minutes and my legs and feet were beginning to get pins and needles. Back on the river I realised my legs had swollen and my pants were too tight. We would not meet the support for another hour and by then I was in quite a bit of pain. Once we met the team the pants change for now seemed to fix the problem.
Total darkness now covered the meandering river. Occasionally we would see another kayak to our left or right and start paddling towards them only to realise they were paddling to us. By now our bodies were tired and our 22kg kayak felt like a 44kg kayak. The support crew tried to boost spirits by surprising us with fish and chips at 2.00am, but by now Dermot was in no mood for food and I only could eat a little.The support crew on the other hand did not waste the chips.
“Over the next three hours I hit my wall.”
Over the next three hours I hit my wall. A few times I drifted off, only to hear Dermot ask “Ok Dale?” I would wake up, momentarily think I was about to paddle into a hole before getting my bearings and replying with a short grunt, “Yes!” Our support crew had grown concerned for us and pulled us to the bank near a bridge to give us a very strong coffee at 4.30am. When the sun came up at 5.00am our body clocks thankfully kicked into gear and we turned a corner. Things seemed to improve and the finish line felt within reach.
Molesey lock was another mile stone as we had now paddled 100 miles and had been nonstop paddling for nearly 24 hours. With 5 miles to go to the all-important Teddington checkpoint, we knew we were going to make the tidal window. Our bodies were in remarkable shape considering what we had gone through but was now taking longer and longer to get back into the boat. I remember Dermot and I telling each other, “It is only five more miles! One more hour to Teddington!”
“Only 18 miles to go: a Liffey Decent!”
At Teddington Lock we had another gear change, a last application of anti inflammatory gel to the sore areas of the body and a quick body rub. With a kiss from our respective wives, off we went knowing we would not see the support crew until Westminster Bridge. We were in good spirits as we pushed away. “Only 18 miles to go: a Liffey Decent,” Dermot said to me laughing. I thought back to 2012 and how the Liffey Decent had taken its toll on Dermot and just how far the two of us had come.
“A swim at this stage could be disastrous.”
As we rounded the corner to Richmond Bridge the first barrier was down and second had started to drop. We sprinted for the last arch but 50 meters from the arch the lights came on. One more final portage would be required. Every mile felt like five as we were so tired but our spirits were good. As we made our way down the quays motor boats started to appear on the river. Crossing their wake head on was ok but then it would rebound off the walls and hit us square on the side. This was very un-nerving as a swim at this late stage could be disastrous.
Then I heard the welcome sound of Big Ben striking 12 o’clock and knew we couldn’t be far from the finish. As we rounded what seemed like a never ending series of bends Big Ben came into view first, followed soon after by Westminster Bridge and the realisation that we had made it. Dermot congratulated me and I replied, “It has been a great year!” We were helped out of our kayak and we climbed with up the steps to the quayside with shaky legs where we were presented with our finisher medals. It was hard to take it in. We had done it. 70 out of the 200 boats that started with us were not so lucky having to retire earlier in the race due to exhaustion. It was a surreal experience to stand there in the shadow of Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament and think about what we had achieved. While we sat in the car waiting to leave the event, despite being utterly exhausted, I started looking forward to our next adventure, because I had all already found something better than a DW finisher medal: the chance to go on a paddling adventure with a friend.
Part one: http://tdu.ie/index.php/2014/05/devizes-to-westminster-going-solo/
