Letting it all hang out

As the popularity of adventure racing grows, deadly accidents become more likely and some racers are calling for better regulations. But would making adventure racing safe destroy the sport?

Then there was a crack from above. A 300-pound boulder had come loose. Most of the racers, including Rusch, were able to scurry out of the way. But the boulder caught her teammate John Jacoby by the ankle and then hit AROC’s Nigel Aylott in the head.

Aylott, 38, died on site, the first adventure racing fatality on US soil. He was not wearing a helmet and had not slept for more than two days. Neither safety precaution was required.

After Aylott’s death, organizers stopped the race and called a meeting of the remaining teams. Team Montrail decided to quit, but 49 teams elected to continue a day later on a shortened course.

“It was tough,” says Ben Nachtrieb, a racer on Team Gerber Legendary Blades. “I think the major driving force was that Nigel would have wanted us to continue. …I know that if I passed away in a race, I would be upset if [race organizers] stopped.” And Nachtrieb seems to speak for the sport in general: Racers want to be safe, but they don’t want the adventure sucked out of their sport. So how do you keep competition pushed to extremes yet prevent future accidents?

More Races, More Danger?
Adventure racing is on the rise: Across the US, tens of thousands of amateurs and pros compete in races each year, according to the United States Adventure Racing Association (USARA). The level of competition ranges from one-day sprint urban races in Oklahoma City that draw weekend warriors to multi-day epic expeditions in which competitors from across the globe duke it out. The number of races in the US ballooned from 35 in 2000 to more than 300 in 2004—and the USARA expects that number to double over the next two years. With this type of growth comes a risk for more deaths and serious injuries.
The death of Nigel Aylott, as well as that of Dominique Robert in the 2003 Raid Gauloises, certainly hasn’t stopped adventure racing, but it has given a few of the sport’s hardcore devotees pause. Some racers are beginning to wonder just how much risk is too much. Adventure racing is still by and large a loosely regulated and ungoverned sport, but, as it moves forward, change may be inevitable.

After the 2004 Primal Quest, Rusch, who has won some of the biggest contests in adventure racing, including the 2003 Raid Gauloises, began to question her commitment to the sport to which she had dedicated eight years of her life. “I spent a few months at home in hermit mode,” Rusch says of the months following the tragedy. “I just had to go over my choices to be in a sport like this.”

Adventure racing isn’t the only outdoor sport to grapple with questions over safety. The death of Mark Heinemann in 2004 put the spotlight on ultrarunning, another relatively ungoverned endurance sport. The day after a 48-hour, 200-plus-mile New Year’s Day race in Arizona, Heinemann was found dead in his hotel room. Doctors ruled that his death was natural, caused by pneumonia related to a bacterial infection, yet the incident brought bad press to a sport already considered dubious by the general public.

Shawn Dietrich, who participated in the 2004 Primal Quest and also works as a race director, sees changes in adventure racing coming from the racers themselves, not from outside. “I think you’re starting to see a banding together of athletes and race directors to take a look at this,” says Dietrich. “We certainly could benefit from a national governing body, just like some other sports.”

It’s not that adventure racing has no standards. Established eight years ago, the USARA functions as a governing body for many races in the US. The association sanctions adventure races and hosts the US national championships. USARA has also established a compliance committee for racers to report unsafe promoters or competitions. But it does not impose strict controls like, say, the International Cycling Union, which governs biking.

But, It’s an Adventure Race
The biggest problem with regulating adventure racing is that the risks are the thing that draw many competitors to the sport. Ian Adamson—who, with victories over the years at Primal Quest, Eco-Challenge and The Raid, has become the ambassador of adventure racing— says, if anything, he’s surprised by the low number of deaths there have been in the sport since it caught on in the late ’80s. “Without risk, there is no adventure, so you might as well run around an indoor track, with no traffic, no weather and continual physiologic assessment by a medical team,” he says.

It’s not that adventure racers have a death wish. They’re just the types who like the thrill of pushing themselves to the edge. According to Marvin Zuckerman, a professor emeritus from the University of Delaware and an expert on sensation seeking, athletes competing in high-risk sports are seeking out a sensation, not necessarily the dangers. Adventure racers will often attribute accidents to a one in a million occurrence and won’t let that risk deter them from their goal.
The attitude of most racers seems to prove Zuckerman right. Calling Aylott’s death a “fluke accident,” Troy Farrar, president of USARA, says he’s unsure what major changes—if any—may result from the Primal Quest incident. “However,” he adds, “we still review and revise our minimum safety standards every year and definitely evaluate how any incidents affect our standards.”

“I don’t think there’s much you could do as a race director to minimize the risk without ruining the sport,” says Adam Chase, who captains Team Salomon USA and competes in ultrarunning events. “It would give racers a false sense of security, instead of taking responsibility for their own actions.”

So what can adventure racers do to keep the adventure in their sport, while better protecting competitors? Heavy regulation may not solve adventure racing’s problems, but some steps could be taken to help manage the sport, says Rusch, who is pushing for better safety guidelines and measures such as allowing some racers to test a course before a competition to judge its safety.

“I want the sport to grow,” says Rusch. “I don’t want to see adventure racing become benign and boring. But I think to be difficult and adventurous, it doesn’t necessarily have to be dangerous.”
Alina McMaster, a teammate of Aylott’s, says she would never return to the Primal Quest competition. “I don’t believe that adventure racing is dangerous, and I believe there’s a real difference between difficult and dangerous,” McMaster told The Canberra Times in December. “I don’t think the race director understands that, and I’m not prepared to put myself at risk.”

Safer Than Bowling
Officials with Primal Quest defend their safety measures. “The unfortunate reality is this was a completely random accident. There’s not a whole lot you can do,” says Gordon Wright, the race’s spokesperson.

Some races have made changes. In response to the deaths of Aylott and Robert, The Raid instituted a mandatory 20-hour sleep rule and kept racers off whitewater in the dark at the world championship in Argentina in November. As for Primal Quest, there’s little Wright sees that could have prevented Aylott’s death.

“That doesn’t mean we haven’t changed,” he said. “Our perception of the danger of adventure racing is heightened because of Nigel’s death. I’m sure it will inform the way we carry out future races.”

When it comes down to it, the dangers of adventure racing are minimal. “If you look at our history, I think adventure racing has been a very safe sport,” says Farrar. “There has been only one death in the United States. There’re probably more people who died at bowling alleys last year.”

But the shadow of Aylott’s death has certainly made Rusch more cautious. This year, she’ll be competing in fewer adventure races and she’ll be more careful in selecting the competitions she does join. She’ll also keep pursuing more changes in her sport. “It’s in a growing phase,” she says. “I know it’s a real challenge, but I hope some changes do come out of this.”

Whatever those changes are, the sport will continue to push competitors to extremes. “I think it’s a risk that we all take when we adventure race,” says Nachtrieb. “You know there’s a chance you may not come home.”