Everglades Challenge, Day 34.

Fine.
​It's Day 2, but it feels like the second month of this unsupported adventure race from St. Petersburg to Key Largo. 

Well that certainly doesn't look great. Where's the wind?

Over the past nine years, this Sunday in March is traditionally the day when I juggle my electronic tracking stuff and hustle myself to Key Largo. Toting a boat-trailer and fresh clothes and such trappings of society as fit in the vehicle, I drive distractedly while my favorite skipper and his communications officer JT slalom down the left side of Florida aboard Spawn. 

I often joke that after checking their SPOT locator from the rest area on Alligator Alley, I have to skedaddle in order to get to Key Largo ahead of my sailors.
​
This year? No skedaddling required.  

​They might, as I type this Sunday night, have another 18 hours to go.

Slowly, slowly are they making their track south. 

So it's a draggy race this year, one might say. 

Draggy but not without drama: what with having some Challengers start half a leg or a leg ahead because of Plan B, and the tracking a bit of a mess –– and with the extra complication of having Spawn's personal locator SPOT suffering some form of hysteria that makes her operational lights flash as if she's working... but lemme tell yah: she ain't working like she flashing.

Anywhahoodle, the Spawnsters seem to be in good spirits.

I am a bit concerned that they might run low on snacks (for once), but since they once fueled half the event on Little Debbie Snackcakes and salted peanuts in a packet, I trust they can fend for themselves.

And didn't TwoBeers pack a fishing line?

As Paula Paddledancer (organizer and all-round-Mamma Bear for the event) pointed out –– the racers are going to have a pretty night of it anyhow. 

The Moon and Paula and me.