I ran three orienteering races this weekend as part of the Big Blues Ramble orienteering meet outside Chicago, a nationally-ranked A-Meet that attracted backwoods sprinters from around the nation. Collectively, I ran about 20 kilometers of courses, including two long runs and a sprint.
But in orienteering—a sport that puts you in search of hidden flags scattered through a forest, a map and compass your only guides—that 20 kilometers feels twice as long. You jump logs, duck trees, crawl through brush, and claw your way from flag to flag.

The map from Saturday’s 5.9KM course, a 1:10,000 scale view of a preserve near O’Hare Airport in Chicago.
I’m an average orienteer, sometimes squeaking off a top finish in my home state at the local meets. But at this race I was just embarrassing, missing flags, then circling back, getting lost, tripping on logs, and running ragged as the clock ticked on.

The Gear Junkie (me) suited up and ready to go at race start.
Indeed, on Saturday, when I ran a 5.9KM course, the winner finished in about 35 minutes; I took more than an hour and a half. (I did better on the sprint that day, pulling a mid-pack finish with a time of about 20 minutes on the 2KM course.)





