Category: Revelation

Today was the Long Lake Long Boat Regatta, or LLLBR for short. LLLBR and me go way back – back in 2008 Dan Murn convinced me and some other of the novice Rochester racers to come, and he convinced the organizer, Brian Mac, to put on a short race for our benefit. First and probably last time I beat Tom Murn in a race.

I don’t know how they do it, but somehow they usually have awesome weather for this race. Yeah, we’ve had some windy ones, but I don’t think we’ve had bad rain or thunderstorms. (Sorry, I probably just jinxed it for next year, haven’t I?) And the leaves are turning and it is just beautiful up here. This morning it was quite cool, almost cold, and as usual I didn’t know what to wear. I showed up with my v-cold long sleeve shirt and v-cold paddling pants. As I prepared the boat it warmed up a tiny bit and first I switched the long sleeve v-cold top for a short sleeve v-cold top (in retrospect, a good move) and then later just before getting in the boat I stripped off my paddling pants exposing my v-heat shorts (in retrospect, not such a good move). You see, a few years ago Jim told me I should be a little bit chilly when paddling into the wind so I don’t overheat when I turn back downwind. Which is great in practice, but I swear we never had anything but headwinds or beam winds for the entire race. Got some following waves, but never actually got a respite from the wind in my face and blowing cold spray onto my legs.

I put my Muvi camera on the front of the boat, since when I’d tried it as a head mount last weekend it had given me a wicked headache plus I hadn’t started it. The FAQ for this camera notes that people had have problems with the waterproof case fogging up, and they provide a bunch of silica gel packets for include in the case to help prevent that. I decided to be safe and put two fresh packets (right out of the foil sealed packets) today, but it didn’t work. As I approached the starting line, I could see the damn thing fogging up, and it never cleared. I’m cursed by movie cameras that hate me. If it wasn’t for all the great feedback I get from my loyal followers I’d give up. (If anybody wants to start a fund to buy me a GoPro Session 5 or two, I’m sure I’d produce much better videos without so many technical issues, hint, hint.) The Countour Roam camera on the back continues to have great battery life, be simple to operate, the only problem is it doesn’t do 1080p at 60fps and I don’t think the video is smooth at 30fps.

Oh, and because all racers like to start their excuse making early, I should mention that I’ve been dealing with terrible allergy symptoms for a couple of weeks. Sneezing, stuffy nose, and a slightly sore throat. Yuck. The only factor I felt like was still in my favor was that although my nose was stuffed, it didn’t seem to be interfering with taking deep breaths through my mouth. So I figured I might be ok, or I might have a terrible coughing fit somewhere out on the course and have to DNF. I was giving even odds, but nobody would take the bet.

So at the start, there were some surprises. Todd and John Hair didn’t show up. Jim was paddling in touring class in a v8 for the challenge. Matt was in a double with some guy who hasn’t been paddling in a Surfski much but who evidently in his first outing last week did the third day of the 90 Miler – so maybe not much time in kayaks, but a way above average paddler. There were only three of us in unlimited class, me, Mike and a guy in a V10 GT who looked like the sort of guy who deserved to be in a GT class boat. I knew if my breathing didn’t fail, I could probably beat Mike, and obviously the GT guy was going to beat us. So really my race was against my own lungs, and if they were good, my goal was to beat Roger. Roger had beaten me in our last showdown in the Adirondaks by riding my stern wake the whole way and then coming around me just as I picked up a weed on my bow. I didn’t want to let that happen again. Actually, I was sort of hoping that I’d beat Mike, but it would be really close. Mike is coming back from injury and down time and he’s getting faster, and I want us to be head to head rivals again.

At the start, Jim was off like a rocket, followed closely by the GT guy. There were a couple a c-4s and a guy in a 18x touring class boat. Suddenly Matt’s double came roaring up the outside and quickly joined Jim. It looked like they dropped GT guy pretty handily. I was on the side wake of one of the c-4s and another c-4 was well off to my right. The  guy in the 18x had a gap on me, and I tried a couple of times to close it but he was holding me off. I found out later his name is Eric (I think) so I’m going to refer to him as Eric for the rest of this blog. In a quick glance back, it looked like Mike was on the stern wake of the same c-4 I was on, and I couldn’t see Roger which was a bit surprising. The other c-4 looked like it was actually a tiny bit faster than the one I was on, so I accelerated a bit and left the first behind with the thought of maybe glomming onto the faster ones wake.

But then I hear this horrible wheezing sound and realize Roger has managed to catch up to me, and now he’s got designs on catching Eric. He and Eric were in the same type of boat, and I believe they both live in the Adirondacks, so I bet there is some sort of rivalry going on there. Fine by me. As Roger went wheezing by, I jumped on his stern wake and graciously allowed him to tow me up to Eric. I wasn’t exactly getting a free ride here – even with the wake, my heart rate was still up over 160, in the “red zone”. But so far my lungs were holding on. We got into a nice conga line, but then we hit some wakes from war canoes in the other direction and some other waves and then the faster c-4 actually barged into the line and forced me off Roger’s wake and suddenly they’ve got three boat lengths on me. Oh oh. I tried to take it in good humor, saying to the c-4 guys “hey, I’m paddlin’ here” like in Midnight Cowboy.

At the turn I turned a bit tighter than them and managed to recover one of those boat lengths, and so I put in a massive effort to close the gap up and get on Roger’s stern wake again. We had a fairly good gap over the c-4s, and Mike was still hanging onto the stern wake of one of them.

I thought after the turn we’d be heading down wind since we’d been going up wind before the turn, but somehow that didn’t work out that way. If anything the headwind was stronger going this way. Eric is a powerful guy and every time the wind picked up, he seemed to put the hammer down – I’m pretty sure it was a deliberate attempt to gap us. We stayed mostly together back under the bridge, and then we hit some waves and we broke up again. I put in a supreme effort to get back on Roger’s stern wake again, but he wasn’t closing on Eric. So I stepped up my game and came around Roger and blasted my way up to Eric’s stern. I realized I was probably towing Roger back to his rival, but that’s not my problem. 

But then we hit some more waves and wind and I started coughing up phlegm. The allergy symptoms had finally started affecting my race. Suddenly I lost Eric’s wake again. But it looked like I’d managed to gap Roger as well. Ok, now it’s a matter of just trying to maintain my pace and not blow up, and maybe I could get back to Eric after the turn when we’re not fighting our way into the wind. Yeah, I’m an optimist. 

There was confusion in my mind about the second turn. The way Brian had described it in the pre-race meeting had left it ambiguous in my mind as to whether we were supposed to go around the island, or just the boat parked in front of the island. Jim and Matt and GT guy and the war canoes had all been so far ahead I couldn’t really tell whether they’d rounded the island or not, but GT guy’s line really looked like he’d circled the island. So I was lined with the shore line ready to go around, and so was Eric, but he actually yelled something to the people on the boat, stopped paddling to listen to their response, and then abruptly turned directly towards them. Ok, I guess we’re not going around the island. Probably just as well, because as it was it looked like the race was going to be longer than advertised. We were expecting a 16 km (10 mile) race, but if my calculations were correct, it was going to be more like 17.5 km.

After the turn, the expected tail wind didn’t happen. It felt like it was a direct beam wind most of the time, with occasional blasts from in front just to make this hard. The waves were from behind but they weren’t giving me any push. My coughing got worse, and Eric continued to pull away. But the two c-4s from earlier came through. Unfortunately Mike wasn’t on their stern wakes any more, but fortunately neither was Roger. Once again, the one I’d been on the side wake of near the beginning came by close enough that I could get on the side wake again, while the other one was a bit ahead but way off to the right side.

The stern paddler on “my” c-4 was nice – she offered me words of encouragement as well as to her own team. The stern in the other c-4 just seemed to be yelling at his paddlers for not working hard enough. I didn’t last long on the side wake, but dropped into her stern wake and got a really nice ride. My heart rate climbed back into the red zone again because it was hard work, but that little bit of help from their stern wake was all it took to get me seeing speeds up near 11 km/hr again. They were slowly and surely catching the other c-4 and it looked like they were bringing me up closer to Eric. I had a little discussion with myself and said that if we did catch Eric, I would not pass him because it would be unfair to beat him using a canoe wake, but I’d be quite happy to glom on to his wake again and finish at the same time as him. As it happened, we didn’t end up catching Eric, so it was a moot point. I was also trying to gasp out some words of encouragement for my tow truck, but I don’t know if they heard me because I was also coughing a fair bit.

So in the end, Jim won touring class, surprising nobody. GT guy won unlimited, surprising nobody. The c-4 that was towing me beat the guys who’d cut me off way back near the beginning. Eric was powerful and strong and beat me and Roger, coming second in touring class. I’d accomplished everything I’d hoped for at the beginning of the race, beating Roger, beating Mike, and beating seasonal allergies. I’ve got a bit of soreness in the old bronchial tubes as a result, but I also had a great day on a beautiful lake in the sunshine and got to hang out with friends afterwards.

Jim said before race that we should dedicate this day to the memory of Bill Feeney. I think we did him proud.

I reviewed the Motionize a couple of weeks ago, and my summary was “If I were you, I’d hold off buying it until they can work out some of the problems.”. Well, I’m pleased to say the worst of the problems appear to have been fixed, so I’m giving it a tentative “This might be for you”.

So here’s basically what I said, and what has improved:

• I complained about app freeze-ups. I’ve paddled it four times since then without a freeze-up, so they’ve possibly fixed that problem. Update: it froze up again a few days after I wrote this.
• The battery life. I did a 95 minute paddle today and the battery went from 100% to 55%. That’s acceptable battery life versus before when a 90 minute paddle took it from 85% to 5% to a complete shut-down.
• The paddle display is still pretty sensitive to boat tilt. I doubt there is much they can do about that. I only use it on flat water, which helps. Also, when I wrote that review I’d been doing intervals on the canal and when I was going upstream the display was fine but when I turned downstream it was displaying very wonky data. Now it appears that after a 180 degree turn the wonky data corrects itself after 3 or 4 strokes. Better, but still room for improvement.
• My complaint about double tap not starting the workout seems like it might have been my mistake, because it’s worked fine for me since then.
• They put an option on the website to order new sticky mounts. I’ve ordered another one so I can use this device on my V12 as well.

What hasn’t been improved:

• One thing I forgot to mention last time is the heart rate monitor. Fully 1/2 to 3/4 of the time, it doesn’t see my bluetooth heart rate monitor, either in the “Pair Devices” screen or actually during the workout. Other apps and the Settings screen can see it, but Motionize can’t. And then another time it will see it fine. Very frustrating, especially when people are saying “this could replace my Forerunner”. That recalcitrance when it comes to displaying heart rate is an instant disqualification.
• Still no improvement in the information it gives you either during the paddle or in the post-workout summary screen.
• Still no indication of what is sensor data and what is general advice. Obviously “Remember to hydrate” is just general advice, but is “For a better experience, look forward rather than down” general advice, or can they somehow detect that I’m hunching my back? Obviously if they provide all this interesting feedback from a device down near your feet, it’s a pretty good guess that you’re going to be looking down at it rather than counting herons.
• It’s still trying to connect to the ConnectIQ Garmin Store. I should probably contact tech support about that.
• And again, not their fault, but I wish there was some solution to the difficulty seeing the screen in bright sunshine.

I get the same warnings every time I train with it. I try to remember to bring the paddle out before my knees (something I’ve been working on for years). If I were Motionize, I would link this advice to a page with drills you can do to correct the problems as it identifies them. Also it tells me things like meters/stroke and paddle depth, and I don’t know if my numbers are good or bad. Again, it would be useful if Motionize gave some feedback on how I compare to other paddlers in my same general age/fitness/ability levels and gave personalized drills and training.

I was thinking about what would be the best use-case for this device, and I think if I were a kayak coach, what I’d do is buy it, and require everybody I coach to buy a couple of the sticky mounts and a RAM mount, and then I’d just loan it to different people between group works out. I’d use that info to get them doing appropriate drills for whatever deficiencies the Motionize points out. I wonder if there’s an opportunity for something like Sean Rice’s PaddleFit online training to use this to really get to know what you need to work on.

So they had this race last year, I didn’t go, and it was a bit of a mess. Multiple laps around the inside of the harbor in an area that was weedy. It was so bad that racers were stopping to clean off each other’s weeds. Evidently it was a permit problem or something. But this year, they said they had the permit problem licked and planned multiple courses from a nice beach well outside the harbor. The long course was to be 12 miles, and go along the shore to the harbor, enter the harbor and paddle along the inside of the breakwall, then exit the harbor and paddle back along the outside of the breakwall, and then paddle back to the beach. For some odd reason they put the start and finish areas a few hundred meters apart, but no matter. At one point they were talking about having people run along the beach for that few hundred meters, but changed their minds and just had a short finish chute and some great volunteers to catch your boat while you ran for the finish.

On race day (today), it turned out this course would be too hard. There were whitecaps coming straight into shore. One of the local paddlers said he sails out of the harbor and the entrance we were going to have to use to get into the harbor was damn near impossible in these conditions in a sail boat. Plus we’d be running along the outer breakwall with waves pushing us directly into it with rebound waves bashing us from the other side.

The organizer made the last minute decision to do a completely different course. Instead of heading north towards the harbor, we’d be heading south west towards a very visible house on a beach and jetty and turning on a buoy, then coming back to the start where there would be a buoy (but just in the return, not on the start), then back to the first buoy, then back to the finish chute at the RedBull tent. The medium course would just go out to the buoy at the house and then direct to the finish, and the short course would have an even closer buoy then back to the finish. The organizer said that according to his map, each leg to the buoy would be about four miles. (Foreshadowing alert: it wasn’t.)

The start was a bit of a mess – he’d said to go out beyond the breakers, and as soon as everybody was out there he’d sound the horn. There was no start line or buoy, because the guy who was placing buoys was still placing the buoys for the short course. So people weren’t lined up in any coherent manner. I was still trying to drain my bucket from the complete fill I’d gotten going out, and my foot strap was twisted around so I couldn’t see my GPS. When I heard the horn, I said to somebody near by “I think that’s the go signal” and took off. The seas were about 30 degrees off directly abeam, which was a relief, but they still made me slow. There were sets of fairly large waves, maybe four feet high, interspersed with smaller ones about one to two feet. At first I seemed to be the only one going, although Todd came through pretty quickly. As I saw a gap in the big stuff, I shakily reacted down to start my GPS, but instead I saw the big red square indicating that I’d stopped it. I guess it had started when I was untangling my foot strap. I quickly started it again.

A bunch of racers came through, including Jim and John. Everybody seemed to be following Todd, who was to my eye was way too far upwind. There was one guy not very far ahead of me in a v12, and he was bracing more than he was paddling even on the intermediate waves. I couldn’t understand why he was ahead of me – he must have gone past when I was fiddling with my GPS. I was on the same line as everybody else trying to catch this guy.

Dan rarely races these days and initially said he was going to do the short race, but he loves these waves so much that he upgraded to the medium race, and he came through pretty quickly. He was also on a very direct line to the buoy. I decided to go direct as well, and abandoned my attempt to pass the guy in the v12. But I was a little disappointed in myself to see Dennis coming through. Dennis is a local triathlete who has been paddling with us a bit, but today he’s in a sea kayak today because he’s not comfortable in his ski yet. And here he is going faster than me. Up ahead I saw a v10 double flip over, and the two of them were so slow remounting that I was able to pass them. There was a sea kayak over with them so I guess they had help if they needed it. There was also a large coast guard boat standing by near the course line.

At the buoy, I had caught up to the guy in the v12. But I knew that if a wave threw us into each other we’d both be practicing our remounts in difficult conditions, so I gave him a real wide berth. My GPS was beeping at 1km intervals, so I know the turn was about at 3km mark, depending on when my GPS started itself.

After the turn, the waves were now about 30 degrees off my stern beam, not conducive to surfing. But in spite of that, I very quickly passed the guy in the v12, and not long after, Dennis in his Seda Glider. One nice thing about a 180 degree turn in a race is you get to see if there is anybody else behind you. There’d been a couple of people at the start who I hadn’t seen pass me and I didn’t see behind me at the turn. I guess some of them abandoned. Can’t say I blame them.

The rest of the way back was pretty uneventful. Like I said, I wasn’t getting much of a ride off the big stuff, although there was a set of smaller waves that were going almost directly in my direction and I got a bit of help from them. Everybody ahead of me was well ahead, barely visible, although I could see Todd leading the main pack well offshore rather than directly to the turn buoy. I stayed on a direct line. That coast guard boat was still standing by just offshore from our line.

After the turn back up, things were a repeat of the first time only much more lonely. But it was still looking like 3km per leg, so at least I knew it wouldn’t last too long. The guy in the v12 was still behind me, but Dennis wasn’t. I guess he decided to do the medium course. I could barely see some of the leaders rounding the buoy way, way ahead of me.

After the buoy, the route back to the finish is only a little bit further downwind than the second leg, so still not much surfing from the big stuff, although there was still that small swell heading in a favorable direction. I was trying to turn off course to get a diagonal ride on the big waves and then turn back towards the finish between the big ones. It didn’t work very well because I couldn’t get going fast enough to really catch them. I ended up far enough offshore that I was able to turn directly down the big ones straight at the finish and catch them that way. I got two actual fast rides. Not enough to make the race fun, but enough to bring it up from “man I suck at this” nearly all the way to “glad I came”. 

I didn’t want to ride a big wave right into shore and smash up my boat, so I tried to get behind one as I had been taught in Tarifa. It mostly worked except a small breaker caught me – I turned sideways on it and very nearly stayed upright as it broke over me, but I fell over at the last moment. It was shallow enough to stand up so I just started running and dragging the boat. The helpful volunteers came out and took the boat while I did world’s slowest beach run. I crossed the line and two little girls attempted to outdo each other with passing me a ice cold bottle of water, and a mug with two beer tickets and a lunch ticket. That definitely pushed it up into “glad I came” territory.

I heard an amusing story after the race. After the v10 double flipped, one of the paddlers decided he didn’t want to continue but the other one did. So they pulled into the finish and the one who didn’t want to continue swapped out with one of the ski paddlers I’d mentioned who seemed to have dropped out early, and with the substitution they completed the long course. I wonder how they divvied up their two trophies?

Today I paddled the USCA National Championships marathon class in Northfield Massachusetts. I wasn’t originally going to do it, but after DNFing at the Gorge Downwind Championships and then finding out that I’m going to have to have carpal tunnel surgery in October, I figured I needed to do every race I could get my hands on this fall just in case next year is a wash-out.

I found a video online showing the course. It was up and down a river, so it was nice and flat, although a bit shallow and weedy. I could easily have managed it in my V12, but I’m still not convinced I’m any faster in the V12 than in the V10 Sport. Plus I have a very short rudder for the V10 Sport, and I haven’t paddled the V12 since I got back from out west. So I decided to paddle the Sport.

One odd “feature” of this race is that the K1 Unlimited class races on Friday. Most of my races are on weekends, but they’ve got a full calendar on this event, with sprint races on Thursday and other class races on Saturday and Sunday.

Another “feature” is that you have to be a member of USCA. Since I had no reason to join USCA other than this race, that makes this race really expensive for what it is.

Now there are at least two places on the website where it says that if you want to register, you either have to pre-register by mail before July 25th, or you have to register the day before the race before 6pm. Well, I didn’t make the decision to go until after the July 25th deadline, so I resigned myself to coming up early enough on Thursday to register. But then on Facebook, they said: “oh no, it doesn’t say that you can’t register after July 25th, it says if you pre-register by the 25th, you get a discount”. Well, it does say that in one place, but like I said, there are at least two places where it says the registration must be received by the 25th. But no matter – not the first time I’ve seen a race website that was contradictory and wrong. If they’re saying on Facebook that they’ll accept registrations now, I’m throwing one in the mail. And a couple of days later I got a confirmation that they’d received it. So that meant I could leave later on Thursday.

Once I was registered, it was time to book accommodation. The website for the event had a list of place to stay, but most of them were B&Bs or full houses. There was a motel near the event site, but they were full. So I booked another hotel on the list that was really cheap. And after I booked it, Vicki said: “how are their ratings on TripAdvisor”. Oh, I’d never thought to look. And man, I’m glad I did, because all the ratings were one and two stars, with frequent complaints about boarded up windows and trash. According to those ratings, the place had turned into a shit-hole after they’d put up a bunch of homeless people. (No offence to homeless people, but just parking them in a motel in the middle of nowhere is probably not the best solution for them.) Anyway, I quickly booked a much more expensive but more highly rated hotel. Afterward, I realized that as a single guy traveling alone, an AirBnB might have been a better and cheaper idea. Oh well. I heard some bad stories from people at the event about local AirBnBs as well.

Jim was also going to be here, but he’d come up well in advance. He wanted to paddle in the Sea Kayak class tomorrow, so he had to borrow a V8 from somebody, and that somebody didn’t want to go without his V8 for a whole week, so I ended up bring it up yesterday. Not a problem.

So on to the race. The weather forecast yesterday had said there might be thunderstorms in the morning, but when I woke up that had changed to a chance of thunderstorms in the afternoon. So that was a bullet dodged. It was sunny and hot. Too hot. There was a bit of a breeze running up the river. I found out after the race that there was a hydropower pumping station just downstream of the event and when it’s discharging (like it’s going to do on a hot day when everybody is running their air conditioners), it can actually reverse the local flow of the river. That actually explains some of the things I saw out there because my speed was pretty slow while going ostensibly “downriver” and I didn’t think it was only due to the breeze.

The race itself was pretty well organized. There were a lot of paddlers, so even though they used much narrower age categories than, say, Armond Bassett, unlike Armond Bassett there weren’t only 2 or 3 paddlers in every class. There were 16 people in my age category in unlimited K1. We were in the second start wave (which the announcer insisted on calling “heats” rather than “waves”, which is weird), along with young and fast paddlers and the slightly older than them but younger than us category. So about 50 paddlers on the line in our heat. There was a slight delay in the start as they repositioned one of the downstream turning buoys – it looked from our vantage point that they were moving it more off shore to give some room. The Women’s C1s started in the first wave, and we could watch them head down to the turning buoys about a kilometer downstream. We started before most of them had made their turns.

We headed down and things were pretty chaotic at first. Everybody was trying to find their best group to paddle with and still get around the two downstream buoys with a minimum of banging and barging. And considering the size of the field and the narrowness of the space between the buoys and the shore, I think it went off pretty well. As we turned the second buoy and started the long drag upstream (with a breeze at our back so we were in the still hot air), I found myself on the side wake of a guy with a nice looking Stellar surf ski. There was a guy who I’d noticed before the start, thinking “oh, at least I’ll be able to beat him”, and he was on the Stellar guy’s stern wake. So much for first impressions. I think he was in a V10L. The three of us basically maintained that formation most of the way up the river – Stellar guy and I were side-by-side and so I’d try to take a pull for a while and then I’d drop back and just ride for a while. There was another guy just a few boat lengths ahead of us and when I took my pulls I thought about trying to bridge the gap but I just couldn’t do it. I was maxed out, with heart rates in the low 160s. A few boat lengths ahead of that guy was a large pack of kayakers, including Wesley Echols. I really wish I could have gotten up to that pack because that would have been a good ride.

I was kind of shocked to see Jim heading back when I was at about 4km or so. I figured he must have had a mechanical problem, although he said afterward it was actually a problem with his hand or wrist. He’s been having problems with that recently, so I guess even he is finally feeling the effects of age.

On the way up, we had to go through a narrow channel between an island and the shore, and it was shallow and weedy in there. Stellar guy for some reason decided to try to get in tight to the shore, but I could see big mats of weeds there so I stayed in the middle of the channel, and he soon came back out and rejoined me and the V10L guy.

Not long after the island, Wesley started dropping back. He seemed to stop to backpaddle to get some weeds off, then started out not as fast as he had before. He joined up with the Stellar guy (since Wesley is a Stellar rep, I’m not surprised that they knew each other) and I let them paddle side by side while I took Stellar guy’s stern wake, although eventually, I ended up on Wesley’s because it looked like he was going to make a move go get back to that big pack. We’d put in a small gap on V10L guy, although a couple of times he fought his way back up to my stern wake. I still couldn’t recover, it was just too hot and humid. I wanted to get my heart rate into the 150s, which I know is where I need to be if I don’t want to blow up, but the only way I could do that would be to lose Wesley and the other guy’s wakes.

The upstream turn was on a bridge abutment. I think we had a solid gap on V10L guy by then, but Wesley, Stellar guy and I were neck and neck. Turning into the breeze felt really good, although it was slowing us down something fierce. I was now on Wesley’s side wake and even tried to take a few short turns leading him. I didn’t even notice when we lost Stellar guy, but Wesley and I both seemed to notice it at the same time, and he suddenly put the hammer down (or I died a little, not sure which) and he was off. He got a good gap on me and I figured he was gone for good. But at least now I could get my heart rate down out of the 160s.

On the way down, we had to do a loop of the island, repeating our trip up the narrow channel. In a way, this was an enormous drag, but it did add some interesting features to the racing. As I was passing the outlet to the channel on my way down, a group of faster paddlers came out of the channel heading downstream and I managed to jump on the wake of the last of them and ride them for a few minutes. Then it was “drag my way up the channel and emerge back into the downstream for the final section”, but as I was nearing the channel entrance a group of three C1s, the first of the open men C1s, came roaring by. The first guy tried to scrape the other two off on me, and the third one banged his paddle into my boat repeatedly before he dropped off. But in the process, they basically cut me off directing me to the entrance to the channel again, which I did not want to do. I had to stop paddling and let them go by so I could continue downstream. I was annoyed at the time, but hey, it’s all racing, right? That first guy was using good tactics against his two rivals even if it wasn’t good for me.

By the time we were in the last part heading downriver, it was shockingly sow – I was working as hard as I ever do and only managing speeds in the high 9s, low 10s. In still water and still air, even as fatigued as I was, I should have been doing mid to high 10s. One time I looked at my heart rate and it was down in the 140s, which seemed crazy low. Wesley was having real problems. I don’t know if he was cramping up or having balance issues, but every time I looked in his direction he seemed to be bracing. I was slowly catching him back up, and as I put in more effort my heart rate was back in the high 150s where I expected it to be. I hit the first of the yellow buoys, which I’d measured before the race as being 750 meters from the finish and I was about 2 boat lengths behind Wesley and closing fast when he suddenly turned his boat slightly and looked back and saw me, and he put in a big burst of speed. I had no finish sprint in me and I finished a few lengths behind him.

After clearing the finish line, I joined a bunch of other surf ski paddlers who were jumping out of their boats and swimming to cool off. What a great relief that was!

After the race, I was standing near my boat when one of the safety officials came over and yelled at me for having a Mocke PFD. According to him, USCA rules require US Coast Guard Approved PFDs only. Never mind that Mocke vests are ISO standard approved, and accepted by every canoe and kayak and surf ski organization in the world, and never mind that this river was so shallow and still that in the unlikely event that I somehow got separated from my boat I could have walked to shore, he said “I don’t know anything about what ISO means, just that it’s not American” or something like that, and he also said “Don’t you dare come back here without a Coast Guard approved vest”. It annoys the piss out of me that I can wear a Mocke PFD in the hairiest ocean races and through Swell City on the Gorge – places where I might legitimately have to make a remount or two, but here in flatsville I have to carry any old piece of shit that has a USCG approval sticker on it.

Now I found a web page that says that the USCA does allow the Mocke, Vaikobi, and other ISO approved PFDs, but only if they’re worn, not if they’re on the boat. (And this isn’t on the USCA page, so it’s possible this is just a proposed change that never got applied.) But it was too damn hot to wear it. One guy I talked to afterward said he’s going to take an old USCG approved PFD, unstitch it, take out half the floatation, stitch it back up, and use that as his (in the boat) PFD. I don’t recommend that. At some races in Australia, I’ve heard they have a very simple test – they attach a 5kg weight to your PFD and throw it in the water. If it floats, it’s a 50 Newton PFD and so, therefore, legal. (5kg of mass exerts approximately 50 Newtons of downward force in standard earth gravity.)

So after that bit of annoyance, the next part was even more annoying. When I picked up my race number this morning, they were out of goodie bags and shirts. So I had to wait for registration to re-open. And that wasn’t supposed to happen until after results were up. So I waited for the results to come up. And waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, at 4pm, 5 hours after I finished, they said “we still don’t have results, but we’re going to give the first, second and third place prizes now”. I knew I wasn’t getting any of them, so I took a chance and wandered over to registration and sure enough they were open and giving out goodie bags. If I’d known, I could have gone back to my hotel, had a shower, had a nap, and still returned in time for them to not have results up.

So anyway, this was a pretty good event, right up until the finish. The venue wasn’t perfect, I would have preferred deeper water and fewer weeds. But the start was well organized, the course was interesting, the loop around the island was an interesting wrinkle, and everything was well marked and clear. The onshore area was shaded and very pleasant, and they had good PA and there were some good food trucks. They even had adequate parking, although some people had to park a ways away. It was just too bad that they screwed up so badly on the results, and that their safety guy was such a jerkwad about the PFD issue.

Update: The USCA magazine has a write-up of the race from a racer’s point of view. Reading it, it’s obvious it was the guy I referred to above as “Stellar Guy”, but a photo credit in the article identifies him as Steve Horney. Here’s what he wrote:

I latched on to one racer who was making good time, then about halfway up the river we switched places and he drafted me until we caught up with Wesley Echols (who appeared to be having a tough time of it in the heat). We all ran together to the bridge where after making the turn and beginning the trip back I opted to suck down an energy gel pack. Somehow the energy transferred to Wesley and the other guy; they took off like a shot, and I was no more energized than I was before.

I guess that explains where he vanished to after the turn, but it’s interesting how he thought we were only traded leads once and I thought we were trading more often than that.