The Two-Thirds Trimorons slept deeply and awoke early. The plan was to be on the road around 0400; there was a slight delay as they realized they’d managed to lock the keys inside the van.
Oops.
Fortunately one of the windows was slightly cracked, and they were able to use the boat hook to retrieve them. They started on their merry way, towards the Crazy Mountains.
Apparently the name is an anglification of a Crow name; Wikipedia gives two slightly different sources:
The name Crazy Mountains is said to be a shortened form of the name “Crazy Woman Mountains” given them, in complement to their original Crow name, after a woman who went insane and lived in them after her family was killed in the westward settlement movement.
The Crow people called the mountains Awaxaawapìa Pìa, roughly translated as “Ominous Mountains”, or even more roughly, “Crazy Mountains”. They were famous to the Crow people for having metaphysical powers and being unpredictable—a place used for vision quests.
The view alongside
In any event, you can see why they call Montana “Big Sky Country”….
The Crazy Mountains are getting closer….
And the Two-Thirds Trimorons are drawing towards Port Townsend….
In Washington State, they have mussel-sniffing dogs! “Finn was certified as a Zebra/Quagga mussel-detection dog in 2022”!
It looks like they’ll be following Route 90 into Seattle, and taking the ferry from there!
Despite spending 30 years crisscrossing the United States as a long-haul trucker, Vlad doesn’t recall having been on route 94. So 2/3 of the Trimorons decided to take the Northern Route to Port Townsend. They didn’t take the Enchanted Highway, but came close enough to have a look at one of its most famous sculptures, “Geese in Flight”.
It turns out that when you’re hauling a collapsible trimaran, you end up with more than just reduced mileage and a fair amount of wind drag. You get bugs. Lots of bugs. Whose short lives, sadly, become still shorter upon contact with the amas…
Bug cemetery
As our intrepid heroes drove into Montana, they encountered something they hadn’t expected…
All watercraft must be inspected!
It turns out that Montana, land of 3,227 lakes, is fiercely protective of its waters. Any boats entering the state must be inspected for the presence of invasive species, which includes mussels, plants, and ummmmm… barnacles!
Montana boat inspection
Apparently, the boat was launched in “high risk” waters. Fortunately for all involved, it had been thoroughly cleaned, dried, and painted since it last touched water. I feel a lot better about having spent a Saturday morning last month scrubbing barnacles off the bottom!
Johna scraping barnacles in April
Of course, Vlad also thoroughly cleaned, scrubbed, and painted the boat afterward! In any event, our hard work did the trick, and the Trimorons were rewarded with this:
Cleared to proceed!
Onward!
Trimorons inform me they’re planning to stop for the night and rest up before tackling the mountains tomorrow.
Nothing much has changed here at Pomestye in a day and a half. The sky’s still cool and overcast, with drizzly-to-rainy patches. The earth smells fresh and the strawberries taste sweet. The birds chirp and the rooster crows.
But in the just under a day-and-a-half since Team Trimorons left, they’ve made it to the Dakota Badlands.
This sounds a lot more exciting than it is, as evidenced by Jeff’s video:
Sailing through the Badlands…
Fortunately, the trip thus far has been uneventful. The next big event (after arriving in Port Townsend) will be Chris’s arrival from the UK. Once the Trimorons are together… watch out, world!
The faraway sound of the “Star Spangled Banner” filters through the air. Somewhere (the base across the river?) someone plays the recording every morning at 0800.
It’s cool, about 60 degrees, and overcast, with drizzle. Earlier in the morning Vlad walked me through the garden, showing me which plants need to get fed, staked, or benignly ignored. I picked my first harvest of strawberries and pineberries (which taste like the Platonic ideal of strawberries, despite being white). The running of Pomestye is now in my hands, ready or not.
Jeff and Vlad woke up early this morning, around five. They ran a few last loads out to the van, did a few last minute checks (who has what in the first aid kit?) followed by a hearty breakfast out on the deck: potatoes, scrambled eggs, and sausage, with not quite enough coffee (but is there ever enough coffee?).
Inspecting the Rig
Then it was time to leave.
We locked Callie inside to keep her from chasing after the van and trailer. They did the requisite checking of the hitch and confirmed the lights worked, taking about 20 minutes.
I told Vlad to keep the windows open but wouldn’t say why.
Vlad Ready to Go
As Vlad stepped on the gas, I hit “play” on my phone and blasted the USSR National Anthem. The Race to Alaska traditionally starts with that, for unknown reasons (This year, they’ll be playing the Ukrainian national anthem, which seems fitting.)
They both grinned and laughed. Then with a wave and a smile, they disappeared.
It didn’t sound like a big deal. Particularly after we’d just completed the Everglades Challenge (my second time, Vlad’s… ninth? We think.)
Still. 750 miles in the cold waters of the Pacific Northwest is very different from 300 miles in the warm sunshine of the Gulf of Florida. 10-kt currents? 30-foot-wide whirlpools? Two Coast Guard planes covering 700 miles of coastland?
There’s a fantastic documentary that describes the R2Ak, as aficionados call it. We watched it, and it went into my mental file for “maybe someday”.
“Someday” turned out to be June 5, 2023.
Not for me–I’ll get into that later. But earlier this year at the Everglades Challenge, Vlad and I connected with old friend Jeff Williams and new friend Chris Forrest. Vlad and I got to know Jeff as a fellow catamaran sailor in 2020 who gave us a literal helping hand when we had to get Vlad’s inflatable catamaran, 007, to the starting line in a hurry. A Canadian, Jeff is unflappably cheerful. I can’t picture him without a smile on his face.
Jeff Williams
Chris and I spent a couple of nights on the beach at Checkpoint 2 (which sounds way more risqué than it was). As we chatted, we discovered that neither of us were fazed by sleeplessness, barking dogs, or marauding hordes of mosquitos. A Brit, Chris had several solo ECs under his belt already.
Chris Forrest
Chris also turned out to be a world class cyclist (who completed a 700-mile race in under a week). That complemented Jeff’s marathon experience (including the Boston Marathon), both of which are likely to come in handy when the wind dies, as it inevitably will, and they’ll need to pedal their way north.
But I’m getting ahead of myself…
Long story short, Vlad, Chris, and Jeff decided to become Team Trimoron, so named because they plan to sail Vlad’s Corsair F-27 trimaran (not coincidentally the same one that Vlad and I escaped from New York on).
The F-27 Trimaran (at sunset near Solomon’s Island)
The scheme came together over a couple of months, and Team Trimoron hammered out the logistics. First was the challenge of getting the F-27 from Solomons, Maryland to Port Townsend, Washington. (That’s 2,877 miles, thank you Google maps!). Then there was getting her crew members from Maryland, Canada, and the UK to the US Pacific Northwest (PNW).
Then there was all the usual stuff–food, supplies, safety gear. Checking the stove and heater. Making sure the compostable head was fully stocked with cedar chips. Checking the boat for all-around seaworthiness.
That was the easy part.
The tricky part was figuring out some means of propulsion for the boat, other than sails.
The R2AK rule is simple: No motors. When the wind is blowing, a sailboat can sail. But in a dead calm (which happens frequently in the PNW), there has to be some way to move forward. Oars can work, but the F-27 is too big for them to be effective. The clear solution is a pedal drive. Vlad bought two, and mounted them on the F-27s’s amas (the arms that connect the outriggers to the hull).
Pedal drive (child model not included)
With that modification, the F-27 is ready to make the trip (or as ready as she’ll ever be). Vlad and Jeff leave for Port Townsend on Sunday, and if all goes well, they arrive June 1 or 2, and Chris will join them there.
My plan is to monitor the race from afar, and keep everyone apprised of team Trimoron’s efforts. Stay tuned!
Go team Trimoron!
*******
A note to readers: If you’re a regular reader of this blog and have gotten this far, you’re probably wondering a few things. Like maybe: “Who is this Vlad? What is Johna doing in Maryland? Where are the kayaks, and what’s up with the sailboat?”
I started a sort-of answer back in 2021, before getting sidetracked by life.
Vladimir Brezina (RIP)
... kayaked the waters around New York for more than 15 years in his red Feathercraft folding kayak. He was originally from (the former) Czechoslovakia and lived in the U.K. and California before settling down in New York. He was a neuroscientist at the Mount Sinai School of Medicine in New York City. He died in 2016.
Johna Till Johnson
... is a kayaker and technology researcher at Nemertes Research. She's an erstwhile engineer, particle physicist, and science fiction writer. She was born in California and has lived in Italy, Norway, Hawaii, and a few other places. She currently resides in New York City.
Vladimir Brezina (RIP) 
Johna Till Johnson
Wind Against Current 