Survival of the Shawangunks returns for 37th time

The Survival of the Shawangunks (SOS) is unlike any other race or triathlon in the world. It turns the traditional notion of triathlon on its head, taking the three endurance sports – swimming, biking and running – and throwing them into a blender and tossing in a special sauce. That sauce or elixir is the Shawangunk Ridge, the glacial lakes, the pitch pines and conglomerate cliffs. The race does not dictate the course; the mountains dictate the race – unlike a traditional triathlon that consists of a swim, bike and run of any variety of distances, from a “sprint” triathlon to an Ironman, in which athletes perform a marathon in each sport back-to-back. Challenging? Yes. Difficult? Certainly. Unique? Well, in the 1980s it was.

Back then, the Ironman was a niche sport – the crown jewel of all endurance efforts – and there was only one, for which few people could even think about qualifying and competing. It was the Kona Ironman in Hawaii. Local athlete and teacher Don Davis had gained entrance into this mythical event, aired on NBC Sports, and he needed to train for it – and train hard. In an effort to be as prepared as one could be, Davis used the topography he had, the Gunks, and created a “training race” so brutal, so over-the-top difficult that somehow, he managed to charm or entice or blackmail a group of his friends into doing it with him.

In 1983, they timed the event, and thus began the September ritual dubbed the SOS, which reached its 37^th year, without any change to the course, this past weekend. Unlike the Ironman or any other triathlon, which are now quite common, the SOS follows the landscape, and in doing so, requires its competitors to bike first, run second, swim third and then…run, swim, run, swim and run once again. This is New Paltz, after all, and convention is not something that is often followed.

It begins with a 30-mile bike ride from the Ulster County Fairgrounds on Libertyville Road in New Paltz, past the field of sunflowers and cornstalks along the Flats, down Springtown Road, dropping down a steep hill to Rosendale and then winding from Route 213 to Route 209, where it wraps around the west side of the Ridge and then sends the cyclists climbing from the traffic light in Ellenville more than five miles straight up the back of Route 44/55 to the Minnewaska State Park Preserve lower parking lot. All along the way, there were groups of supporters, residents and neighbors holding signs, one of which read “Nowhere to go but up!” at the bottom of the hill.

From the Minnewaska lot, participants take off their biking shoes, strap on their running shoes and head up Lower Awosting Carriage Road, where they encounter Cardiac Hill, a steep, heart-stopping climb that empties at one end of the majestic Lake Awosting. They don’t get to stop there. They then have to run another two miles around to the far side of the lake and shove their shoes into their suits, or tie them to a bag that they drag behind them, or simply swim with their sneakers on (not advisable) and plunge into the sky lake, traversing back towards the hill that they just ran up. After a 30-mile bike ride and a 4.5-mile run (both of which trend uphill) the athletes swim the 1.1-mile length of Lake Awosting past the beaver dens, only to crawl out, put their shoes back on and begin running again.

Despite the beauty, this is one of the many places where athletes experience the underbelly of the race that forces them to keep switching modes of human-powered transport. Cramping, leg spasms, charleyhorses are all common, and can look quite gruesome as these honed, fit, sculpted individuals are laid out on the ground, holding onto kayaks (manned by a small army of local volunteers) desperately trying to get their muscles to stop seizing: a result of having transitioned from bike to run to swim to run again.

There were primal sounds that could be heard echoing from the lake, as those who were able began that next 5.5-mile run, which took them through the pitch-pine barrens, under the white conglomerate ledge and around a corkscrew uphill that crested at Castle Point, the second-highest point in the Gunks. For the first time in this epic race, there’s a bit of downhill, where hopefully, runners could inhale some of the stunning views the route provides of the Hudson Valley, Gertrude’s Nose stretching out in the distance and Patterson’s Pellet leaning towards the Palmaghatt Ravine.

Just as that downhill starts to ease the cramping from their legs, they find themselves at the northern end of Lake Minnewaska, where they must restuff their shoes somewhere on their body, dive into the lake and swim a half-mile to the other side. Besides the finish line, this is the most heavily spectated part of the race, with crowds of supporters cheering the SOSers as they crawl out of Swim #2, poking their heads out of their shells like turtles before realizing that they have to armor themselves with shoes once again, shake out the pebbles and head up a steep, rocky incline that is gratefully lined with spectators holding signs and ringing cowbells and providing encouragement for these gladiators to keep going. It’s like a tonic: the people cheering and the volunteers passing out much-appreciated cups full of water, Gatorade, Coke, electrolyte tablets, pretzels, chews and just about anything that might help fuel these participants for the next long run.

If they’ve made the mandatory bike cutoff and the strictly enforced run/swim/run/swim cutoff by the time they’ve exited Lake Minnewaska, then they have a long, soul-searching eight miles that luckily begin with a downhill towards the stunning Awosting Falls. Then comes Lyons Road, which is anchored by an aid station that has been run for more than 30 years by Ron Simon (always a fan favorite) and into the deep forest of Trapps Road. Making their way towards Trapps Bridge, competitors are greeted by yet another friendly aid station and somewhat confused rock climbers. The route takes them to the Undercliff carriage road, beneath the towering conglomerate cliffs where climbers are scaling up and down with ropes and chalk bags.

As if the day hasn’t been long or challenging enough, the participants next have to head up Godzilla, a steep, unrelenting one-mile climb to Lake Mohonk, where, if their legs are still working, they have to swim another half-mile and do a tricky rock scramble to climb out of the lake. There’s usually more cramping and some faces pinched with pain at this point, but then there’s less than one mile to go to get to the coveted and much-celebrated finish line: the Smiley Memorial Tower on Sky Top.

One caveat: This last mile is straight up, hands on knees and stone step after stone step. As alluring as the Mohonk Mountain House is, SOSers are not here for teatime; they’re here to get to the finish line (although some hot tea may seem particularly appealing after that third lake swim).

When these athletes make it to the top – which not all do – they’re congratulated and announced by the indomitable Alex Sherwood, director of hotel operations for Mohonk Mountain House, longtime SOS emcee and also a former SOS champion, who has a way of making everyone feel as special as they deserve to feel for crossing that finish line. They run under the banner and past the stone edifice with Sherwood’s words echoing into the sky, “Congratulations, you are a Survivor!”

Here’s what makes surviving so incredible and that view from Sky Top like a painting that you want to wrap yourself in and carry with you through life. Yes, it’s a challenging race. Yes, the water can be cold or the bike ride steaming hot or the runs windy or thick with humidity; the transitions can leave the greatest athlete vulnerable to being seized by painful cramps, as if their bodies were voodoo dolls being pricked by the SOS spirits. But it’s the journey to the top that makes this race – and not just that last climb or that starting line at the Fairgrounds.

It’s about Don Davis and his family and SOS tribe, who have been to the mountain again and again and come back to let us know that we are stronger than we believe we are – that all things are possible when there’s a community behind you and a legion of volunteers who are the mortar that hold this entire jigsaw puzzle of a race together. It’s about the day-in and day-out of average people dedicating themselves to a goal and joining their local masters’ swim team or borrowing a bike and doing hill repeats on Mountain Rest Road or getting up early or going very late with a headlamp to run the carriage roads that have carried so many dreams before them.

It’s about running into people on the trails and in the lakes and on the road and giving them a thumbs-up or a high-five or a nod to say, “You’ve got this. Keep at it.” It’s about being injured and having to sit one out, but knowing that the race will be there for you next year; this year you’ll take your turn volunteering and lifting the spirits of others. It’s about Mike Kilmer from the Bike Rack checking tires to ensure that people are safe before they head out on the roads, or he and Don Davis being on that steep hill to caution people to take it easy, slow down – it’s just a race, after all. It’s an event that has people from all walks of life doing herculean things. What other triathlon has the chief of police, the Town justice, teachers, school board members, carpenters, contractors, bakery owners, youth coaches and members of the clergy all toeing the line at the same time? It’s looking around at every point and seeing more than 100 people that you know come together for something so celebratory, inviting people in from all over the country and world to test their mettle inside this breeding ground for peregrine falcons and hawks and bears and bobcats and human athletes.

Wherever you turn there are amazing athletes, of every age; and no matter how fast you may get this course done, you know there’s always someone faster coming your way. It’s the humility this race gives out, whether you’re me and being passed by flocks of people on the bike; or you’re vying for the podium, but get sidelined with a bout of cramping; or you get three flat tires and end up having to run up the backside of 44/55 in your socks, carrying your bike, just to try to make it back into the race.

“This race doesn’t have the ego of triathlons,” said Evan Davis, who helps to run and organize this event with his family and their dedicated race committee. “Everyone is rooting for each other. It’s not ‘me against you’ or who has the best bike or trying to edge someone out; it’s a race where people come together and root for each other to have their best day and meet all of the obstacles that this beautiful environment provides.”

The SOS is about surviving, one brick at a time, one day at a time, and learning to lean on others to help you through the rough spots. I always feel like summer in New Paltz is one big huge, unofficial outdoor training camp for adults that Don Davis is presiding over, whereby old friendships are being cemented and new friendships are being created as newcomers to the event and veterans all have to dial in, team up, train in three different sports, at least one of which is usually not their forte. It’s like one big, long ride on the struggle bus that lets off at Sky Top, and you get to climb aboard the survivor bus and get a warm bowl of vegetable soup from P&G’s.

This race is about letting young athletes know that sport doesn’t have to end after high school or college, and that you’re never too young or too old to do something monumental. Myron Baker, 75 years old, sprinted to the finish line and became a Survivor for the 14^th time. Larry Krieger, 65, has the most finishes, bringing home his 33^rd SOS title this year. “It’s also the same day he adopted his daughter, so every year it’s a family tradition and reunion, and it can’t not make you emotional,” said Davis.

It’s about a culture of people who love the outdoors, who respect nature, who cultivate a sense of place and a commitment to doing what it takes to get themselves to the starting line – and, if everything falls into place, the finish line. It’s about service to yourself and others and championing the very best that lies in all of us while combating the insecurities and fears that lie in all of us as well. It’s about being vulnerable and trying to do hard things and knowing that it might not be your day or your season, but hoping that it will be someone else’s – because when you’re part of a community, another person’s victory is in some small measure yours as well.

“Yes, it’s the unique format that has people riding up a 1,200-foot hill on a bike to get to their first run, which is up Cardiac Hill, and then having to carry their shoes in their shorts and swim a mile across a lake – just to start!” said Davis. “That draws people to the race. But it’s more than that, because I always ask people what made them come from California or Texas or what makes them come back year after year, and they always say that it’s something about this community: the people, the volunteers, the beauty. Everyone wants you to succeed.” And succeed they did – all 214 people who crossed the line and the ones who went as far as they could. There’s something about this race that is timeless and epic and touches each soul whom it encounters.

Congratulations to all of the Survivors out there, and thank-you to the Davis family – Don, Darlene and Evan – and their band of merry volunteers, race organizers and the various parks, preserves, private landowners and municipalities that work together to put on a race like no other.

To add to the uniqueness of the SOS, signup for next year begins at midnight on Halloween. Also embedded into this culture is the celebration of the overall winners, the age-group podiums and special awards for fastest swim in Awosting and fastest couple or the community award. All of these results can be found at http://results.prtiming.com/results.aspx?CId=17063&RId=6066&EId=1&dt=1.

This year, the top three male finishers were 1) Jacob Baugher 2) Tom Eickelberg and 3) Christopher Solarz. The top 3 women were 1) Rebecca Wassner, 2) Tara McWilliams and 3) Laurel Wassner. Just out of podium contention in fourth place for women and 11^th overall was 20-year-old Lydia Brutvan of New Paltz, and another young gun, 23-year-old Hans Hilson-Schneider, in fifth place for men and seventh overall.

To learn about how to enter the SOS or volunteer, learn about the history and to see a plethora of pictures taken by local photographers, go to www.sostriathlon.com. To learn about the people and the players and the backstories that make this event so rich, tune into The GunksCast at https://thegunkscast.com.