Category: Rant

I want to start putting in some long distance paddles in the Thunderbolt – specifically I wanted to do a couple of 10+ milers early this week before I have to start tapering for the Armond Bassett race on the 10th. I’ve been doing mostly surf ski paddling since Tupper Lake, and that mostly tires out my balance muscles rather than my forward stroke muscles and aerobic system. Tuesday’s practice is another surf ski session, and Wednesday is the time trial, so really that left today and Thursday or Friday.

So I figured what I’d do is get to work early today, and get home early, feed Widget, and then go out for a long paddle at GWC, then come home and walk Widget. And everything was going perfectly according to plan (I even brought along my headlamp in case I took longer than expected) until I got into the boat. I pushed my feet down onto the foot rest, and there was a strange noise and the foot rest gave way. That’s when I had a sudden flash of insight that a few days ago I’d found a wing nut on my driveway. After spending a few minutes trying to figure out if I could rig something in the boat to hold the foot brace in place, and failing that, trying to see if I could paddle without it. No luck. So I packed up and brought the boat back home.

Then I spent at least an hour with the boat upside down on a couple of saw horses, with my head lamp on, trying to squeeze both arms into the front of the boat, trying to thread screws through angled holes by feel, and generally getting frustrated and annoyed. With the boat upside down and my head in the hole, the heat rising off my body got trapped inside the boat, raising the temperature and activating the smell of hundreds of hours of wet swampy feet that have soaked into everything in the kayak over the years.

I finally got it done. I think I got the foot brace in the right holes – I guess I’ll find out on Wednesday. And because I missed the long workout that I wanted to do, I think on Wednesday I might do a lap around the bay before the race.

Today was the Rochester Open Water Challenge. The wind was coming from the south, meaning the bay was a little rough, but the lake looked very smooth. So I decided to paddle the long course, in spite of the misgivings I’ve had for the last couple of weeks. There was a chance that the wind would pick up in between the time the short course started and the long course did, but I figured it would be better to aim high and fall short than to take the safe route. Although I have to admit it looked like the waves were smaller on the lake than on the bay, so I was maybe taking the easy way out by going out on the lake.

The course was different than last year – Ken was hoping to have us run directly into the waves for a bit over two miles, then surf back, and then repeat it. But with shifting winds and no predominate swell, he ended up putting the turn around buoy 2.25 miles straight off shore. I tried not to be freaked out about being that far from shore. After all, there were three safety kayaks out on the course, not to mention the committee boat at the turn.

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At the start, going through the channel, there were immediately three distinct groups – Jason Q was leading, with two guys hot on his tail, including one in a Thunderbolt T-REX, then there was Doug and Mike. I was beside Mike Littlejohn and Stephen Bergash, although they both started to pull away as soon as we got into the lake proper. I didn’t see where the woman in the rowing skiff got ahead of me, but I don’t think she was ahead of me in the channel.

As we went out into the lake, the water could best be described as “lumpy” – there were waves coming from all directions at once. Not very big, but very random – if there was any predominate swell, it was coming from the west, almost directly the direction we’d have been going if we’d taken the original route. It was throwing me off big time. My stroke was falling apart – I was using my arms way too much, and I had to keep interrupting my stroke to brace or just to plant my blade in a wave top. I was trying very hard to push more with my legs, because that seems to help my stability. But I just wasn’t doing well. Not paddling well, not feeling stable or comfortable, and getting further and further from shore. I had to keep telling myself that if I dumped, I could just turn back, and if I finished one lap, I’d still have done more than if I’d done the short course. It was the only way I could keep myself going.

As we got to the committee boat, I was actually catching Stephen B. But he surprised me by going to round a buoy instead of the boat, and got another length or so on me. I quickly got it back, and passed him just as Julia rocketed past us both. We were doing all right, but the chop was getting worse. Julia dumped, and Stephen yelled that he’d take care of her and I should go on ahead. At one point this very strange little group of three waves appeared out of nowhere – it was fairly big, but only about 25 feet wide. I tried to surf them, but I didn’t have the energy to get on them right, and they were too close together. As a matter of fact, the only good surf I got was the last hundred yards or so into the beach. It was almost enough to make me want to turn around and go back out again, but only almost. I’d had enough, and I was ready to quit.

I’ve been beating myself up about the decision to quit ever since, but I was probably right to quit rather than going out again and dumping because I was overtired.

This is the current radar picture. It’s 45 minutes until time for kayak team practice, and the practice schedule for today is “surfing”. Yeah, I don’t think I’m going…