I'm still catching up from a backlog of updates here on MiceAge, so things
have trickled out to you a little late and "after the fact" lately, for which I
apologize. There's just too much going on!
A couple of weeks ago I took part in the Expedition Everest Challenge, which
is yet another Disney endurance event. I skipped this one last year, due to the
extraordinarily high price to participate. This year, it cost $105 for just this
5K run and its associated events! The price is so high because each participant
is also given a one-day ticket to Disney's Animal Kingdom (DAK) whether you want
it or not, and since I have an annual pass, it's useless to me. The only reason
I participated this year was to secure for myself that medal, since you'll
remember that I'm collecting all the running medals for the year.
It took place on September 21, a day that should in theory see the return of
autumn to Orlando, but in practice on this year, was just plain too hot still.
In the late afternoon, dark clouds began to gather ominously; this would turn
out to be prophetic. But for now, there was no real rain to speak of.
The event takes place at DAK exclusively and does not touch multiple parks
(as many other Disney runs do). It was scheduled to start at 7:30 and end at
midnight; the park closed at 5pm that day (it was a Saturday). I was at DAK
earlier but left after park closing to grab a bite to eat (Disney lost a chance
to make money off me there), and when I returned, the kids races (scheduled to
start at 6:30) were already done. A large staging area had been carved out of
the Butterfly lot (the one "directly out" from Everest), and there was already a
long Start line carved out of chain-link fences (it had been there earlier
today). The obstacle course, which we had also seen earlier in the day, was
erected in the lot "behind" Butterfly, and people were crawling all over it. I
knew the race hadn't started, so I surmised they were simply practicing.
The registration had been earlier that day and the day before, and was held
in a roped-off area at Wide World of Sports. There wasn't too much to do here,
but I appreciated the attempt at a theme for photo locations, and the wall to
scrawl a message on.
"Base Camp" at the Wide World of Sports.
What I liked best about the registration, though, was that everything was
bundled. I showed my ID and waiver form, and was handed an envelope that had
everything in it I would need: race bib, D-tag (which now replaces ChampionChips
for all runs), my free DAK ticket, and my pre-paid pins, if I had ordered any.
Only the T-shirt needed picking up separately. I liked that everything was
sorted into a single envelope, and hope they do this for future events, too. Had
that been the case at a previous event, I would not have forgotten that I had
ordered a pin!
Perhaps they were better organized because there were fewer participants. The
WDW Marathon seems to attract some 24,000 people, but there could not have been
too many more than 4,000 at this one. The highest bib number I could find on the
board (you could look yourself – or anyone – up on the board) was 2065, and
assuming everyone but me was there as a two-person team, that yields about 4,000
players.
I'm not sure why they encouraged team registration. The Disney magician in me
suggests it was to lend a degree of competition, support, and extra layers of
fun to the evening. The cynic in me wonders if this simply generates additional
sales. I did not run with a partner, and only noticed maybe 5-10 other such solo
acts (though I'm sure there must have been more). There was nothing about the
event itself and its activities that needed a partner; the obstacle courses were
easy enough to navigate on my own (and with an expensive camera on my arm, to
boot!)
Like all staging areas, this one was bombarded with loud music in an effort
to get people pumped up and ready. I'm used to running early morning races with
Disney; this was the afternoon so somehow the "pumping up" part worked a little
differently for me. When it's a morning race, this part of the day is cold and
I'm underslept, but still excited for the upcoming race and the music builds on
that. Here, in the late afternoon with the storm clouds gathering, and a partial
day of theme-parking behind me, the energy level was different. It was hard to
get as excited.
There was a photo location set up in the warmup area.
Unfortunately, what energy I had was destined to go out the window just
before the race. We were allowed to join our "wave" 20 minutes before the race,
and the music here was louder than normal and still effective. I was musing that
the wave assignments must have been random; I had bib 20 (the lowest I've ever
had) but this was surely because I signed up early, not because I'm an elite
runner. No one checked the Wave numbers printed on the bibs; someone from Wave
13 could easily have snuck into Wave 1's area.
Back to the energy. It was building by now, but then the on-stage announcers
introduced Nepalese children, who were nervous and had a serious message to give
out, I think about the plight of children such as they. Frankly, they lost me
pretty quickly, and the upbeat momentum drained right out.
Jamie Clarke and his wife.
Fortunately, they were followed by a real-life explorer named Jamie Clarke,
someone who had crested the real Mount Everest and would be running with us
tonight. He shared with us what it was like atop this peak (he said the patch of
snow at the top was about the size of your dinner table, no more!) and that was
interesting all over again.
And then, after a quick national anthem, it was time. Very subdued fireworks
greeted the countdown (they could have done this kind of low-level, silent
fireworks at the Disneyland Half Marathon), and we were off.
Only Wave 1 got fireworks, I think.
The course led around the outside of the DAK parking lot, then in through the
main gate (this was Mile 1).
Darkness descended quickly after the race started.
From there, it was out to Africa, then a quick jaunt backstage to run up a
road that bisects the oval-shaped railroad. We passed the Conservation Station
train depot, but on the side you're usually facing away from, and then hit a
turnaround point. I'm not a fan of these "out and back" designs for runs, as it
seems to make the shortest distances feel like longer distances.
Had anyone desired to do so, cheating would have been easy on
this section,
as there was no oversight at all.
Somewhere on the way back we passed Mile 2, right next to the warehouse-like
roundhouse for the trains.
We even saw a train inside.
At the end (start) of that backstage road, we took a left away from Africa,
and popped back onstage next to the Maharaja Jungle Trek walking tour. From here
we ran onstage toward Everest, passed the Nemo Musical, and a quick turn away
from Dinoland back to Discovery Island, and then out to the Oasis again.
Cast Members assemble to cheer the runners,
which is always
appreciated.
Just before we would leave the park, we veered backstage and made our way
along this berm, reveling in the backstage sight of Everest. Around the corner
at the end, we saw the Finish Line for the 5K.
Curiously, there was nothing but water at the finish line. No bananas,
muffins, or Powerade like I'm used to seeing. We were apparently supposed to
keep going forward to the obstacle course. I was aware that there was no race
clock here, and for that matter, the mile markers didn't have race clocks
either. Curious.
And then I realized that our finish line was right next to the start line,
and the start line still had folks in it. I went up and asked some what was
happening. Since I was in Wave 1, I never realized that Wave 2 (and beyond)
weren't released when we were all those minutes ago. I was seeing here Wave
11-13, still waiting for a chance to start. I guess the race-time requirements
are a bit of a sham. I could have walked from Wave 1 and made it back before
Wave 13 was halfway done, and no one would have been the wiser.
There goes Wave 11.
The obstacle course consisted of four stations: waist-high bars to climb
(hoist) yourself over, head-high climbing nets, 25 feet (or so) of balancing
beam, and nets to crawl under, like soldiers in Basic Training.
The nets were absolutely no big deal.
Not only did I not need a partner to navigate anything, I was able to take
pictures from each vantage point easily enough. Granted, I had to really
concentrate on the balance beam to stop for 30 seconds and look sideways with
the camera, but in the end if was no problem.
Taken while on the balancing beam!
We're in the army now!
After the obstacles, we were herded toward a group of volunteers with glowing
pens and "passports" that held our scavenger hunt clues.
It's a nice touch to make the pens light up.
We walked our way back to the Main Entrance and were merged in with the
runners (by now the early parts of Wave 13); we would not part ways until just
before the Tree of Life, when we were encouraged to get off to the side. One of
my quests led toward Camp Minnie-Mickey anyway.
Every team had four quests, each in the form of a puzzle. However, not every
team got the SAME puzzles, so there was some mix-and-match variation. Here were
my four quests:
I could do at least one of them without actually visiting. I had in the past
voiced dislike of the ambiance caused by the prayer cloths in the area, and
readers were quick to inform me that a "no climbing" sign nearby also let
visitors know that the cloths were not mere vandalism or laundry, but religious
in nature and thus quite appropriate to the theme (I have the best readers, and
am constantly in awe of your knowledge!) So as you can imagine, this one stuck
in memory, and I knew right away that the answer was "no climbing," and were are
not allowed to go "up."
The others I'd have to look at, but at this exact moment, I started to rain,
and the rain quickly became a downpour. Panicked, I got out the plastic bag I'd
lugged with me all this time in my fanny pack. I was running with a digital SLR
on my shoulder (well, usually cupped in my hands) on this short race, but a
rainstorm like this was more than a camera can handle. I also took shelter under
a roof near the First Aid center.
And the rain rain rain came down, down, down.
The skies opened up big time, and for more than thirty minutes, it came down
unrelentingly. I wondered if the race was canceled for those in Wave 13. I
wondered if they kept the obstacle course open, by now surely impossibly muddy.
Race photographers kept shooting, but from under cover.
Finally, the rain switched to an on/off pattern, so I grudgingly moved out to
do my tasks, knowing I'd get wet anyway now. I might as well have gone on in the
downpour. The answers to the quests were:
"Sand"which (in Goofy's lunch basket)
"Check" in at the restaurant
No Climbing
"Den" (the rest is a jumbled up version of the sign, which says
Legend of the Forbidden Mountain)
Then I made my way to Dino-Rama, which was the Quest end, only to discover
the entire event *did* have a Finish Line after all, with muffins and bananas
and Powerade. It was raining, and I took the proffered medal and plopped it
right into my plastic bag. I didn't want it to get wet. This later turned out to
be a mistake; the lettering on the ribbon was wet from being exposed already,
and the action in the bag made it rub off. My desired, delightful medal was
(just very slightly) ruined.
Soggy but victorious, racers get their medals.
But all was not lost. It turned out that a few days later, Disney sent
everyone an email explaining that the weather caused an early closure of the
course, and anyone who didn't receive a medal was to email them a request for
the medal. Ditto for anyone needing a replacement lanyard. I quickly sent in my
request for a new lanyard, and assuming they follow up with a free replacement,
they are to be commended for their quick, responsible, and customer-friendly
action.
Oddly, no one asked about my passport at the finish line. I still don't know
if this was because of the rain, or if that's the way it is. Could I have
skipped the puzzles and just come to the race finale, right when it began
raining? I felt slightly cheated, without being able to say why. It probably was
due to the rain.
The post-race party and bag pickup. Note the rain still
falling in the colored spotlights.
Speaking of feeling cheated, I felt sorry for the people who paid money to be
at the after party. Dino-Rama was slated to be open, as was Dinosaur and
Expedition Everest. Well, the rain and lightning made everything but Dinosaur
stay tightly closed, at least until 10:30 (which is when I finally left). Those
poor folks paid $30 to be here and ride rides, but didn't get much for their
money. I suppose I was partly cheated out benefit too. My expensive ticket came
with the promise to ride Everest at night, but I never got the chance. I know,
the event was listed as "rain or shine" and the weather cannot fairly be
Disney's fault. That doesn't change the fact that I didn't really get the
experiences that were listed when I bought my ticket. I wonder if the folks who
paid $30 also got emailed with an offer of a refund.
The after party led up to Discovery Island, and I saw that the stretch of
land from Tough to be a Bug was open, with no cones and no Cast Member saying it
was closed. So I wandered over to the entrance of Asia, which did have cones
across it. Could I cross these cones? This was part of the after-party area
(Everest was supposed to be open), so I went across and took a photo of Everest
from across the water. Then I returned here to those cones in Asia, hoping to
exit the park. "No," said a pleasant but firm (if not fully fluent) Cast Member
who wasn't here before but was here now, "you can't go this way."
Long story short, I had to go all the way back around to Dinoland and then
over to Discovery Island in order to leave. I cannot, for the life of me,
understand that line of reasoning. I couldn't see a security reason to not let
people leave this way. It left me angry, and it crossed my mind to simply go
across the Finish Line again and claim another medal, as if to teach Disney a
lesson. That would only punish a late finisher of the event, though, and I'm not
that dishonest a person anyway, so I just left the required way, grumbling
internally.
Everest was very excitingly lit up. I was really looking
forward to riding this at
night (it was one of the reasons I was willing to sign
up), but it was not to be.
I did like the chance to play in a sanctioned scavenger hunt at a WDW park –
they should do more of those. But I didn't like the non-valuing (the ignoring)
of the quests, the course was only so-so, the nighttime rides were not to be
had, and the cost to participate was sky-high due to that ridiculous extra
ticket. Would I participate again? Probably not in a rush. Maybe if they found a
way to charge something nominal, like $30, and get rid of the park ticket
requirement, then I might come back and sample the event again. But never again
at these prices. I might have had a different answer if I actually needed that
DAK admission ticket, but I can only respond to my own situation.
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