Somebody handed KC and I a map and a compass and said the finish line was six hours that way. That was it. That was the whole pitch.

Adventure racing is navigation first and fitness second, which is a polite way of saying you can be in great shape and still spend forty minutes arguing about whether you're on a spur or a reentrant. We've done that. More than once.

No lATTitude. Half of it is honest: there are days we genuinely could not tell you what latitude we're standing on.

The other half is the ATT, in orange, the way it sits on the jersey. Because we are all ATTITUDE. KC especially. We bicker, we fight, we relitigate the last checkpoint, sometimes while having no clue where we actually are.

And then some days it just clicks and we're dead on point. Those are the ones you keep coming back for.

Four of us: KC, Asher, Fern, and me. Different races, different combinations, same argument about which trail we're on.

We don't always get it right. We always finish. It all ends up here: every wrong turn, every checkpoint, every finish. It's Wright.