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At the back of the pack, where my sister and I (6995) were once again this year, everything was quiet. Competitors were few and weary, and the checkpoints were a thin mixture of volunteers, ground crews, and concessionaires. But the volunteers who remained were not just focused on moving the boat and logging us in and out, they were also sensitive to our personal wellbeing. I thank them so much for their steady aid and their quiet respect. The sparse ground crews became close and shared valuable information and supplies; we must thank our fellow ground crews for their mutual support. As for the concessionaires who stayed open for so long despite so little profit at the tail end of the race, they fed us manna when we needed it most. I’d like to give special thanks to our nephew, Joe, who made our race happen by being our always cheerful, always effective ground crew; to Bill Lanning, who believed in us from the start (and had himself quite a start when we suddenly reappeared on the radar screen); and to Scott, who was both the guardian angel and the mother hen of the back of the pack. Thank you all. Lewis
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